UNMEI: Pantheon's Game-Chapter 99: The Gods Are Watching

Dune walked back to the inn, his steps slow and measured. As he entered the dimly lit common area of the inn, funny sight greeted him, Ned, slumped over a table, his face half-buried in his crossed arms, drooling in his sleep. The scattered bottles around him made it painfully clear he had drunk himself into oblivion.

Dune let out a quiet chuckle. "Idiot."

Shaking his head, he moved toward his brother, hoisting him onto his back with ease. Ned let out a groggy murmur but didn't wake.

Carefully, Dune carried him up the creaky wooden stairs and into their shared room. He laid Ned onto the bed with little effort before sitting on his own, exhaling as he ran a hand through his hair. His thoughts drifted.

"I wonder... What is Nely doing right now? Is she okay?"

He still couldn't fully grasp everything he had done during the trial, everything he had lost and gained. He had changed.

"I've changed. I'm new. And I want to save even more of those who are important to me... become stronger... bring the gods down." freёwebnoѵel.com

That final thought echoed in his mind as exhaustion finally pulled him into sleep.

Dune was jolted awake by a loud, irritated voice.

"Wake up! We're late!"

His eyes shot open to see Ned standing over him, fully dressed, looking far more awake than he should have been after drinking himself unconscious. Atlas stood nearby, rubbing his temples like his head was splitting in two.

Dune groaned, pushing himself up. "Damn it." In his rush to get dressed, he tried pulling his pants on too quickly and promptly lost his balance, crashing onto the wooden floor with a heavy thud.

"Ouch..." he muttered.

Ned snickered and tossed a shirt at him.

"Hurry up."

Dune rolled his eyes but quickly dressed. Moments later, the three of them stepped out into the cold morning air. The sun had barely risen, its golden light breaking through the thick clouds. The streets were already bustling, filled with students heading toward the academy gates.

"Ugh... my head is killing me," Atlas muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Same here," Ned grumbled.

Dune, on the other hand, felt far better than the two. He had never been much of a drinker.

As they walked, the towering gates of Bloodrose Academy loomed before them.

The second test was about to begin.

Stepping through the academy gates, Dune immediately noticed something strange. The usual energy that came with tests was missing. There were no roaring crowds, no eager spectators, no grand battle arenas. Instead, only a handful of students stood in the massive courtyard, along with a few nobles and academy officials.

"I guess this test isn't as entertaining as the others," Dune thought, scanning the scene.

This wasn't a trial of combat. There were no flashy duels, no grand displays of strength. Instead, the students stood in silent anticipation as names were called one by one, and each person entered a chamber alone.

Dune's brows furrowed. Before he could think too much about it, the first name was announced.

"Ned."

Ned's eyes widened. "Alright... guess I'm up first." He stretched his shoulders before stepping forward and disappearing through the massive wooden doors of the chamber.

Minutes passed.

Then, Ned returned.

His face was pale. Lifeless.

Dune frowned, stepping toward him. "What happened?"

Ned clenched his fists, frustration rolling off him in waves. "I probably failed. Damn it! They weren't impressed with my ability. I know if they saw my Sky Serpent, they would've been speechless... but no, damn it, I had to be Zeten."

Dune and Atlas couldn't help but laugh despite the tension.

More students were called in one by one. Some returned with relief, others with shaken expressions. Then, finally...

"Atlas."

Atlas exhaled sharply, adjusting his coat before stepping forward.

When he came back, his face was unreadable.

"How was it?" Dune and Ned asked in unison.

Atlas glanced behind him before speaking, his voice calm but firm. "They know."

Dune's breath caught in his throat. His pulse quickened. "What?"

"They know who we are," Atlas repeated, his expression unreadable.

Dune's eyes widened. "No way... how?" His fists tightened. "Damn it. Of course, they know. But how did they find out? And why aren't they taking action?"

A memory resurfaced, Bethel's words.

"Could it be because of the blessing?"

Before he could think any further, his name was called.

"Dune."

The weight of the moment settled on his shoulders. He took a deep breath, his heart pounding as he walked forward. Students whispered behind him, their eyes fixed on his back.

"They won't kill me in there... will they?"

His footsteps echoed as he passed through a massive gate, entering a grand chamber. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings, depicting battles of old, gods warring against mortals. At the far end stood a raised platform, where eight imposing figures sat in high-backed seats.

Dune's eyes locked onto the most familiar face among them, King Aramir. His presence was impossible to ignore, his piercing gaze fixed directly on Dune.

Beside him sat Magma, Damion and James Murderthrone, Cassius, Ramires and two others Dune didn't recognize.

One seat remained empty.

Dune swallowed hard. It was time.

He stepped onto the platform, inhaled deeply, and prepared for whatever came next.