The square fell silent.
The villagers stared in shock, unable to believe the priest's words.
Malrik's gray eyes glinted like steel.
"That was no holy miracle," he said. "That was heresy."
The cheering died instantly.
"H-Heresy?"
"But Lord Ark saved Old Man Jiro!"
"And the puppy!"
"Surely that's the will of the gods?"
Malrik slammed the butt of his staff into the ground. The sound cracked through the square like thunder.
"Silence! Do you fools not understand? Life and death are the domain of the gods alone. To take it into mortal hands… is a sin."
---
I stood frozen, fists clenched.
Sin?
How could saving someone's life be a sin?
But the looks of fear creeping into the villagers' faces twisted my gut.
Just yesterday, they praised me as a savior. Now, doubt flickered in their eyes.
Narsh stepped in front of me, her glare sharp enough to cut glass.
"Listen here, old man. Ark didn't take lives—he saved them. You call that heresy? Then your gods are full of sh*t."
The crowd gasped.
Malrik's eyes narrowed. "Careful, girl. Blasphemy has a price."
Narsh spat on the ground. "So does threatening my friend."
---
[Author's Note: Narsh is about three insults away from getting smote by lightning.]
---
Malrik ignored her and turned back to me.
"Boy. Ark, was it? You must come with me to the capital."
My stomach sank. "Come… with you?"
"Yes. The Church will determine the source of your power. Whether it is divine… or cursed. Until then, you are forbidden from using it again."
The villagers erupted in protest.
"No! Lord Ark is our savior!"
"You can't take him!"
"He is the Muscle God!"
Malrik raised his hand, and the shouting died instantly.
The weight of his authority crushed the square into silence.
---
I swallowed hard.
I wanted to scream. To flex. To tell him to shove his staff where the sun doesn't shine.
But… deep down, I was afraid.
What if he was right?
What if my power wasn't a blessing?
What if every life I saved… cost something else?
Narsh grabbed my arm, whispering fiercely.
"Don't you dare go with him, Ark. He'll use you, lock you up, or worse. You're not their weapon."
Her words burned into me.
But Malrik's eyes, sharp and unyielding, pinned me like chains.
"Choose, boy. Come willingly… or be dragged."
---
The crowd held its breath.
My father—the village head—finally stood, voice trembling.
"P-please, Priest… Ark is just a child. Surely the Church can wait—"
"Silence," Malrik snapped. "This is beyond your authority."
My father fell quiet, fists shaking, helpless.
And me?
I looked down at my hands.
The hands that had healed.
The hands that had punched fire.
The hands that might not even be my own anymore.
Was this power a gift?
Or a curse?
---
For the first time since I began training, since I swore muscles could overcome anything—
I wasn't sure if strength alone could save me.
---
[Author's Note: And thus begins Ark's very uncomfortable road trip.]
---