"The sovereign of The End and destruction, the incarnation of the Creator's dark will, the immortal presence on the abyssal side!
"Your humble, devoted servant Fursa Medici has painstakingly prepared a gift for You!
"I beseech You, supreme and omnipotent One, to cast but a glance upon us and grant Your loyal servant but the slightest response!"
Pale dawn light streamed through the stained-glass windows of the ancient chapel, falling across the weathered altar. When Dusk opened his eyes, he was stunned to find in his arms a stunning girl, clad only in a half-transparent veil that left much of her lithe form exposed.
She appeared some seventeen or eighteen years old, her features delicate and refined, eyes bright, lips glistening ruby red—truly a vision of youthful beauty. Under the soft morning rays, her flawless figure was laid nearly bare.
Wide-eyed, she stared at him, her cheeks flushing with excitement. "Praise be to The End… The descent ritual has succeeded… Our Lord has truly arrived…" she whispered breathlessly.
"Where… am I? How did I get here?" Dusk mumbled, bewildered, cradling the fragile girl.
Moments before, he had been investigating a freshly unearthed Mysterious Parchment in an ancient ruin. The instant he opened it, his vision blurred—and then he found himself here.
He seemed to have… somehow traveled to a completely alien world, into a younger body. A plot straight from an online novel was unfolding in his own life. Even Dusk's normally unflappable mind reeled at the realization.
"Supreme Lord of the End! I knew You would not forsake us!"
A hoarse, fervent voice crackled from beside the altar, snapping Dusk's thoughts back. He glanced over to see a gaunt head protruding from beneath a black cloak. Bloodshot eyes clung to the altar's edge as the old man choked out, "Great Lord of the End, Your humble, insignificant, devoted servant Fursa Medici has awaited Your arrival at last!"
"Lord of the End?"
It took Dusk a moment to register that the man was addressing him. Recalling the girl's words, he realized these two had mistaken him for the god they had summoned.
Dusk could only shake his head in wry amusement. He had been a staunch materialist in his previous life—believing only in truth and fists. Of course, that was before a transcendent event turned his world upside down.
This misunderstanding, he decided, might yet work to his advantage. A quick glance around the modest five-hundred-square-foot chapel revealed hundreds of black-hooded corpses seated in tight rows, a grim, unbroken sea of death. The blood-soaked altar and these fanatical dead made one thing clear: these worshippers served no benevolent deity.
If those two were to learn that he was not the "Lord of the End" at all, but a mere thief who had hijacked their ritual, Dusk was certain his fate would be grim.
So, after a moment's deliberation, he decided to play along—at least long enough to save his own skin. After all, he had no desire to end up as one of those rotting corpses.
"Loyal servant, I have heard your prayers. Speak your wish," Dusk said, his face impassive. "Money, riches, power—so long as you offer me a sacrifice that satisfies, I shall grant it."
Of course, the condition of "satisfaction" was entirely his to define.
"Praise be to The End! Praise to our Merciful Lord!" Fursa the cultist exclaimed, without the slightest doubt in Dusk's identity. A fierce light ignited in his sunken eyes at Dusk's words.
Dropping to his knees, he cried, "My Lord, your reply and descent are our greatest blessing! As your devout followers, how could we dare demand more? I will summon the other high priests of our Cult at once—when they learn that you have truly descended, they will surely be overjoyed!"
With that, Fursa gave a knowing glance at the barely clad beauty beside Dusk. "Nara, Holy Maiden, I leave her in your care. Remember, you must tend to our Lord faithfully—or you know well the penalty for defying our sacred law!"
Nara, the girl, only smiled lightly and pressed her soft body against Dusk. With a hint of playful warmth in her eyes, she murmured, "Fursa, Bishop, rest assured. I will care for our Lord with my very life. It is my honor to serve him."
Sensing her fragrant breath and gentle touch, Dusk frowned ever so slightly, tamping down the sudden restlessness in his chest. He said nothing more.
"In that case, please, my Lord and Holy Maiden, take your rest," Fursa said, visibly relaxing. With a gracious bow, he withdrew from the chapel—and thoughtfully closed the heavy wooden doors behind him.
The doors thudded shut, and in the next instant Dusk felt Nara press closer. Her eyes glowed like spring waters, her cheeks tinted rose. Leaning in to his ear, she whispered in a voice like silk, "My Lord, allow Nara to serve you well…"
As she spoke, her slender, ivory hand slipped beneath the pale-blue folds of his robe, her entire body draping itself across his. Through the thin veil of her gown, Dusk could feel the soft curve of her breasts brushing tantalizingly against him—a jolt of sensation that made his heart skip.
But Dusk recovered quickly. With a firm grip, he caught Nara's delicate hand in his own—preparing to steer the situation before it spiraled any further.
"If you're so earnest in your desire to serve me," his fingers loosened the sash of his silk robe with deliberate slowness, "I shall grant your wish." The cascading fabric revealed pale skin glowing in candlelight as he looked down at the flustered girl. "Kneel. Open your mouth."
Nara's breath hitched. Before her muddled thoughts could coalesce, a calloused palm clamped over her crown. The merciless downward pressure came without warning.
"Mmph—!" Golden strands whipped through air as her head jerked forward. Sapphire eyes widened above trembling lips that fought to contain another whimper.
At twenty-nine, Dusk had been the youngest archaeology professor in Ivy League history - no wide-eyed novice trembling before life's complexities. Women offering themselves weren't met with false modesty nor refusal.
Besides, when impersonating a Malevolent Deity, commitment was paramount. Had an actual goddess stood before him instead of this cult's Holy Maiden, he'd still demand the same submission.
The girl's upward glance held reproach for his roughness, yet her dilated pupils betrayed thrilling anticipation. In this godforsaken era where deities remained silent for centuries, servicing an Endbringer wasn't humiliation - it was rapture bordering on sacrilege.
As Nara tucked stray golden locks behind ear-shell pink ears, her inexperienced motions along his length proved clumsy yet fervent.
Dusk exhaled sharply at the enveloping warmth. The tension coiling his spine since transmigrating into this death cult's altar room eased marginally. Surviving required perfect pantomime of divine arrogance... but perhaps escape remained possible.
His fingers absently carded through her silk-soft hair while calculating exit strategies. That's when peripheral vision caught the writhing darkness upon his pectoral.
The black sigil pulsed like living shadow - ancient glyphs squirming like tadpoles in obsidian ink, forming a grotesque mandala of intersecting crosses. Each character flickered between luminescence and void, hauntingly animate.
"This is… the ancient script on the Parchment?!"
A storm of shock and wonder roiled in Dusk's mind.
He had thought the mysterious Parchment had vanished—he never expected it to appear on his own body!
What was this thing? Why had it manifested on him? Was his sudden arrival here caused by it…?
Doubts swirled through Dusk's thoughts, yet there was not a single clue; the sense of losing control in the face of the unknown left him uneasy.
"My Lord… what's wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable?" Nara, sensing Dusk's odd behavior, lifted her head, worry in her eyes.
"…Nothing's wrong. Continue," Dusk said, pressing her head back in place, though his gaze was fixed on the space before him.
Just a moment ago, as his fingertip brushed those ancient characters on his chest…
A yellowed Parchment, emanating an aura of antiquity, had slowly materialized in the air before him.
It was the very Parchment he had handled just before arriving in this world!
Only now, compared to before, its surface bore no writing—just a blank expanse.
Under Dusk's wary scrutiny, the blank Parchment in midair unfurled.
Twisted, blood-red letters began to form, as if someone were writing with an invisible pen.
[To the soul from another world, do not wander in confusion, do not fear; I come in goodwill, wishing only to make a bargain with you.]
[I know nearly every secret in this world, including ancient treasures and the heritage of the gods.]
[If you can obtain what I desire, or help me with certain tasks, I will share all this knowledge with you, guiding you step by step to the divine throne and making you the true Lord of the End!]
[As this is our first meeting, to show my sincerity and goodwill, I will for free reveal one piece of information about a Tiered Sealing Relic—only once.]
[Location: North of Talros Town – Water Spirit Lake]
[From a soul of another world, may our cooperation be prosperous—Raymond]