If you notice any errors, please feel free to give me constructive feedback. English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes, please mention them in the comment section at the end of the chapter. I do not own Overlord. All property rights belong to their respective creators. Let's begin the story!
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Chapter-33
Abelion Hills,
New World;
Overlord Verse;
Staring at the giant pair of doors, Percus remained rooted in place, uneasy about the entity responsible for them.
When he suddenly heard a burst of laughter from the side, he turned skeptically, wondering what could have caused it.
While everyone else remained wary of the massive doors—barely hidden, obscured only by a giant tree on the other side of the river—Alexiar burst out laughing, confounding the group.
"As expected of the world," he muttered loudly before advancing toward the doors.
His words raised doubts among the others, but as the strongest among them and their leader, they followed—though some kept their distance.
To Percus, it felt like one overwhelming event after another, and he couldn't help but question the sanity of their leader after everything that had happened since their encounter with the Elf King.
Trailing behind the others, Percus moved forward with the group toward the doors.
Flying across the river, they soon arrived before the towering golden gates—Alexiar at the front, Percus at the back.
As Alexiar stepped forward and attempted to push open the doors, they swung open on their own, with no intervention from those present, startling the group.
Before them stretched a vast expanse of never-ending darkness, with distant star clusters gleaming like lanterns scattered through a void.
The door created an illusion—one that made it seem as though it held the stars and heavens within. To Alexiar, it looked like a bridge to the skies that had always remained just out of reach—now promising power, feeding the delusion born from his first defeat at the hands of Decem.
"As expected of my great-grandfather, to grant me this opportunity," he spoke aloud, spreading his arms wide as if to claim the jewels that dotted the skies.
The door had appeared at the very moment of his dilemma—when he had questioned his existence and begged the God-King for guidance, to show him the path to have his vengeance against Decem for dishonoring his family.
His great-grandfather, who had once slain gods and Dragon Lords alike.
The appearance of the door had become his final thread tethering him to reality after his first crushing defeat—when all hope of vengeance against that lowly elf had seemed lost. Like Decem, Alexiar had grown up believing that humans were the chosen race and that all others were beneath them.
Alexiar raised his arm, silencing the murmurs among the group, and declared,
"My loyal followers and comrades, my great-grandfather, King Elsion, has not forsaken us—even after returning to his divine abode. He has now opened the doors to his divine realm, to welcome his chosen warriors."
His words stirred quiet doubt among the group, but none dared voice their concerns. To them, the spectacle before them was a miracle of the gods.
The very thought of danger had been cast aside, drowned beneath the still silence and the breathtaking beauty of the cosmos unfolding through the open doors. Paired with lack of any enemies emerging from the door, prompted them to reconsider their options.
After all, who other than the gods themselves could have enacted a structure as grandiose as the door? As for Decem—he was strong, yes—but still far beneath the gods, and thus they dismissed other possible explanations.
Traveling alongside Alexiar, and with most of them trained by the descendant family of King Elsion, they had grown up on tales of the God-King who had slain mighty dragons and gods to liberate humanity.
To magic casters, the Eight God-Kings were a step above the gods who had fallen in battle against the Eight Greed Kings—for it had been the Eight who introduced magic to the weak, creating a path for humans to defend themselves.
With the barely disguised divine radiance the door emitted, Alexiar's speech finally made sense to them.
Nodding in agreement, they raised their weapons high and marched alongside him, each filled with urgency to claim the divine weapons and blessings of King Elsion.
But Percus stood at the rear, unable to match their zeal.
He was still a relatively new member, and unlike the others, was not a fanatic. After the sobering reality of their encounter with the Elf King, he had grown more cautious.
More importantly, unlike the rest, he had felt the initial pulse of magic. It was chaotic and primal—sending chills down his spine.
Percus had once visited the abode of the Eight Greed Kings, under the guise of a traveler, to gather information for Alexiar. He had been there—and he had felt the magic of that ancient city. He was certain of it.
Though he possessed no concrete proof for his suspicion, his instincts screamed at him.
The magic responsible for the miracle of the door felt eerily similar to the presence he had sensed from the Dragon Lord who had laid claim to Eryuentiu—from a distance.
Born with a rare sensitivity to magic and energy, and gifted with a talent for learning spells, Percus trusted his senses.
And what he had felt from the Dragon Lord residing in the city, from the outer rim of that city felt similar to what he now felt here. Though, the power of the Dragon Lord felt quite inferior to the magic he witnessed.
Though the power and intensity were beyond comparison. 'If the magic of that Platinum Dragon Lord had been akin to a grain of sand,' Percus mused, 'then the magic that brought forth this door is vaster than the world itself.'
It was far more chaotic and primordial—as if it held the very might to deny the existence of everything within this region.
Percus remained rooted in place, lost in thought, when Serius—who had been the last among the men to leave—turned back one final time.
"Come on," he urged. "Let's not miss the reward for our effort and loyalty." And then he, too, disappeared through the doors.
Percus now stood alone in the silent tranquility of the night, deep within the forest, as no sound passed through the golden gateway. Still unmoving, he stared at the doorway, fear settling in his bones—fear not of monsters or armies, but of the thing or being that had created such a divine construct.
Percus was relieved, in part, that no enemies had poured through to assail them. Yet even in their absence, uncertainty gripped him.
Percus had not voiced his doubts earlier—afraid of being branded a heretic or traitor. So he had remained quiet, watching as the others gave themselves willingly to what they believed was divine providence.
Percus desired to peer into the abyss of magic, to climb the rungs of arcane mastery and witness the heights only legends had seen… but not at the cost of his life.
Not if the price was blindly stepping into a miracle that he felt reeked of something older, darker, and far more dangerous than even the gods he revered.
When he didn't hear any sound from those who had entered the door, he walked up to it—his steps fearful of the doom that could have befallen his comrades. With the silence of the surroundings and no other living being in sight, his mind went into overdrive, imagining disastrous scenarios. His fear fed him possibilities, each more catastrophic than the last, where his comrades might have met their end.
Standing before the door, he gazed at the never-ending cosmos within—glittering with stars and celestial creations. He truly felt insignificant standing there, and when he looked around, taking his eyes off the door, he found himself all alone in the forest.
'This door is definitely trouble, and it would be stupid of me to sacrifice my life at this point.' He mused, staring at the doorframe and the runes that lined it. 'Whether it's the Eight Greed Kings or the Six Great Gods, they're all the same. As long as I can get stronger, it shouldn't matter who I follow.'
"Hmm." He rested his hand on the doorframe, feeling the intricate designs and the otherworldly material used to build it. Then he shook his head, having decided to risk his chances—and cast a summoning spell.
Unlike them, he wasn't a fanatic and didn't have the luxury of considering the chances of offending the being beyond the door. It was a life-or-death situation anyway for him. He could have escaped, but the idea of abandoning his comrades left a bitter taste in his mouth after everything they had done for him. 'Though prideful and egotistical, they still care for me and helped me learn magic. This is the least I can do for them,' he mused.
"Archangel Flame, advance through the door and relay the situation to me," he commanded the angel. 'Hopefully the god on the other side doesn't take offense to this action of mine and forgives me for being a puny human. But I wonder if this angel serves the same god responsible for this gate, considering how close I summoned it to the door,' he mused, watching the angel enter.
'Hmm!' He stood frozen as he noticed the connection vanish. As soon as the angel crossed the threshold, he felt the bond sever—or rather, it felt as if the angel had been erased from existence. The moment he realized it, he cast
"What if... they're still alive?" he muttered under his breath trying to be optimistic, eyeing the door from afar. "What if the situation on the other side isn't completely hopeless... and is just isolated from the outside, with it being the domain of a god?" Linking the working of the Gods domain similar to wards used to block teleportation or other type of space magic.
Percus stood eyeing the door, torn between the decision to enter or retreat. He had a feeling that the power beyond the door far surpassed that of the Dragon Lords, the Eight Greed Kings, or even the Six Great Gods. He had no evidence to support his theory, but his gut—shaped by sensing the auras and energies of many powerful beings he met—told a different story. 'Even the Six Great Gods and the Eight Greed Kings fell before this world, so the allure of a power that could potentially grant unimaginable strength is... appealing. I just have a hunch… a strong gut feeling,' he mused.
"Whatever it was that created this door, and the magic that brought it forth, possesses the power to grant any wish—true, boundless power. Not even the Eight Greed Kings or the Six Great Gods were shown capable of such a feat," he muttered, staring hard at the door, unable to make up his mind.
"Maybe it's my supposed talent that's whispering to me about the magic responsible for this door and to dive inside… and yet…"
Percus raised his foot to step forward but couldn't gather the courage, and instead took a step back. "The Omnipotent God, the creator of the world?" he muttered, recalling the tales his village chief used to speak about. 'In the East, there's a tribe of humans who worship a God said to be present everywhere and all-knowing. Though, most of them were killed off by the beastmen, if I remember correctly. They used to sacrifice living beings every full moon… if I remember it right.'
Percus pondered the possible relation between the door and the extinct tribe. 'Didn't they used to throw their sacrifices into a cave where a door supposedly led to the abode of their God?' He wondered, trying to make sense of the situation. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he wished it was just his paranoia. 'I am too weak to be invading the domain of a god,' he mused—only to be snapped out of his thoughts when the golden door closed on its own.
Despite the abyss of magic he had so desperately longed for, now possibly lying just beyond his reach—brought forth by a phenomenon only possible through divine means—he still feared taking a step forward, fearing it would be his end. Mourning his comrades, he cast
"I need more power." He muttered, silently cursing his powerlessness and cowardice to follow his comrades.
Percus took one last look at the closed doors before flying off toward the east of the Abelion Hills, toward the Empire adjacent to the Theocracy. With his history with Theocracy, he steered cleared of them. On his journey, hiding from the prominent forces, the desire to gain power and study the door remained a wistful dream. He failed to find the door again, except for the Griff—a beastman species with the characteristics of both eagle and man. With Dark Dwarves aiding them, he had been chased out of the forest before he could spot the door.
Even after numerous attempts over decades, he failed to find the door again, despite fooling the Griff and the Dark Dwarves. Yet on his journey, he inspired many young magic casters. One particularly promising mage remained memorable to him—a young, talented mage from Belmous Village.
Percus's life had remained stagnant since the day he encountered the door. He eventually grew old and fell battling a Demon God, before he lost all his belongings to the Demon God. Even in his final moments, he regretted not entering the door, which he had long speculated was the abode of an all-powerful God capable of granting any wish, to those who served him.
"Hmm." Sighing for the umpteenth time as she gazed at the book, a short undead woman shook her head and closed it.
******
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**The End**
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