The plane touched down at Tokyo International Airport. Passengers slowly filed out, and Morvathos did the same.
He walked beside the white-haired woman. The other mortals around them didn't see him, but she clearly did, casting him sharp, questioning glances. Morvathos, however, ignored her, too distracted by the strange new surroundings.
This was his first time stepping into an airport. He looked around like a country pumpkin, wide-eyed at the mortal structures and systems.
It felt strange—and somewhere deep within, it stung his pride. He was the God of Death, a member of a top-tier divine race, yet here he was, gawking at mortal architecture like a child. Still, he couldn't do anything about it.
He had only been born into this form for a single day. So, he shamelessly looked around while following the woman.
She headed to the reception area to handle some paperwork. Morvathos lingered near the gate, leaning against the wall beside a guard.
The man was short, pot-bellied, and half-asleep, resembling a lazy pig. Morvathos gave him a brief glance before ignoring him completely.
Once the woman finished, she exited the airport. Outside, a vintage black luxury car was waiting. She slipped inside.
Morvathos followed, passing through the door as if it weren't there—but curiously, she kept the door open for a moment, as if inviting him in.
They rode in silence. The driver focused on the road, and the woman gazed out her window. Morvathos did the same. Tokyo stretched before him—once the city where he had lived out his final days as a beaten-down corporate slave.
But now, he saw it with new eyes. He was no longer an office drone; he was Morvathos Renavyr Oathgrave, the God of Death, the King of Hell. Pride swelled in his chest as he watched mortals bustling about, oblivious to the one who had ascended beyond them.
Before long, the car arrived at a five-star hotel. The woman stepped out. The driver left without a word. She entered the lobby, checked in, and rode the elevator to the third floor. Morvathos followed her every step, phasing through walls and doors without hesitation.
By the time she unlocked her room, he was already sitting at the round table inside, leaning back in a chair as if he owned the place.
The woman walked in with a frown. She shut the door with a sharp click, tossed her bag on the bed, and sat across from him. Her mask came off as she fixed him with a cold, stern gaze.
"Who are you?"
She demanded.
Morvathos looked at her directly. As expected, her beauty was striking—white hair like moonlight, piercing blue eyes, skin pale and flawless like porcelain. Any man would have been speechless before her. But not him. He only smiled faintly.
"Well, I don't think you'll believe me, but… I am God."
He said. Her frown deepened. Clearly, she didn't believe him. He chuckled.
"Enough nonsense, Tell me who you are, or I'll have to use force."
She snapped.
Morvathos shook his head.
"What I said is true. But since you don't believe me, let's make it simple. I'll perform a ritual—the Truth Exchange Ritual. Overseen by Divine Law itself."
Her brows furrowed. She had never heard of such a thing. In her eyes, the man before her was just another exorcist.
A lunatic one at that—rare, dangerous types who wandered the world without backing, doing strange things on a whim. Her father had warned her about them: don't provoke them. They were usually frighteningly powerful.
So, though she remained wary, she nodded.
Morvathos's faint smile widened.
"Good. The rules are simple. You ask me a question, I'll answer truthfully. Then I'll ask you one, and you must answer truthfully. But there is no rule on saying that we can only ask one question at a time. Think of this as an conversation where you only speak truth. A fair exchange. Do we have a deal?"
She hesitated, then nodded again.
Satisfied, Morvathos leaned forward.
"Since we've reached an agreement, let's start with introductions. My name is Morvathos Renavyr Oathgrave. Nice to meet you."
He held her gaze.
"What's your name?"
"Selene Ardyn Valecrest,"
She said sharply.
"Alright, before we start, let's order some snacks. It's morning, and I'm craving something. You do too, right?"
Selene couldn't keep her vigilance forever. Deep down, she felt this man wasn't a threat. Her instincts — which had never failed her — told her that the figure sitting across from her would not harm her.
From the first moment she saw him, she hadn't felt danger, but a gnawing curiosity instead. Even now, though she wore the mask of caution, true hostility wouldn't rise in her chest.
She shook her head, reached for the phone, and dialed the hotel staff. Her voice was calm as she ordered tea and some light sweets.
Morvathos, however, requested green tea and chicken momo. Selene frowned at the strange pairing, but she repeated it to the staff.
"Madam, did you mean dumplings, not chicken momo?"
The voice asked.
"No, it is chicken momo, not dumplings,"
The corrected flatly.
"All right, madam. Anything else you need?"
"No. Please bring them as soon as you can."
"Will do. Have a nice day."
The line clicked dead. Selene set the phone down and turned her gaze back to the man across from her.
"Before we begin, let me explain how this ritual actually works. It is overseen by the Divine Laws themselves. They will judge the truth of each answer and carve the verdict into your mind. Words like true or correct will surface within you, undeniable and absolute. That way, you will know."
Morvathos said his voice was calm, but the weight in it made the air feel heavier.
"Now, let's begin."
Selene wanted to scoff, yet she couldn't. She had no choice but to follow along, and curiosity gnawed at her.
How could he hide from normal eyes, pass through walls, and sit before her like a shadow that obeyed no rules of the world? If there was a way, she would like to learn from him.
Morvathos closed his eyes. His right hand rose to his chest, curling into a fist. Slowly, an intricate seal burned into existence across the back of his hand.
Its glow was faint but sharp, like a brand carved from the void itself. Selene's eyes widened despite herself — the seal was beautiful, but unnerving.
Then he spoke, voice steady and resonant:
"I, Morvathos Renavyr Oathgrave, call upon the Divine Laws to oversee this Truth Exchange between me and Selene Ardyn Valecrest."
When his eyes opened, the world itself seemed to shift. The air grew heavy, crushing against Selene's chest. A suffocating pressure pressed down on her soul. Her breath hitched — it was no illusion. She was pinned beneath a weight she had never felt before.
"Alright,"
Morvathos said, calm as stone.
"Since the arrangement is complete, let's get to the point. I have three questions. After that, you may ask me as many as you wish — until the snacks arrive. Agreed?"
Selene's body was stiff, her hands trembling against her lap. Never, in all her life, had she encountered a ritual like this. The exorcist society had countless rites, but none carried this quiet, crushing oppression.
And yet, she nodded.