Rise of the Rejected Deity from Chaos

Seiya stood so unbothered in the middle of the carnage he had wrought. Not a single ounce of pity or regret could be detected on him.

His entire form was soaked in fresh red, his staff covered in dripping crimson. The earth beneath him was a pool of blood that turned the ground soft, and a waste of human remains.

Neither the trembling villagers could dare let out a cough, nor the commander that was still in stunned silence from the brutal occurrences that has been ingrained in his mind.

What now was to be done?

Casually, Seiya turned his head toward the commander who has remained still on the same spot for minutes now.

"Are we done here?" He asked, his voice devoid of emotions. He was so casual with the commander like he hadn't just slaughtered his men like they were some sort of worthless animals.

The commander couldn't even comprehend Seiya's question, he didn't have the slightest strength or interest to even try to comprehend it.

As weird as it did seem like Seiya was asking whether they were done regarding the commotion, he wasn't.

He was simply asking if the work they had come to the village for was done. He wanted to leave.

The commander, however, was in no state to comprehend even the littlest of things at the moment. The word shock couldn't even begin to explain the feelings welling up inside him.

After a delayed moment of no response to Seiya, the commander finally took a step forward. Then another, and another, till he started walking toward Seiya—his steps sluggishly slow as if he lacked energy.

When he reached Seiya, he stopped just beside him, his head hanging low like a person reflecting on himself. His eyes that stared down at nothing, were dull, but filled with pain he couldn't chug down.

"Seiya," he called in a whispery tone, his breath warm against his lips. "I could probably go insane right now and decide to fight you with every ounce of my strength—even if it means death for me," he said, his lips twitching just a bit, playing a faint, melancholic smile across his face.

"But that would change nothing. If anything, I'd only be adding another body to the pile, for I know all too well that failure is inevitable."

Seiya stared blankly at the man looking dull, and wrapped in a shroud of sadness—oozing melancholy. He didn't say a word, he didn't see the necessity of answering the man.

After all, if the man wasn't serving a purpose, as a means to get him his ID, he would've long since killed him.

"Defeating you right now seems an impossible feat," the man continued, his tone weary and quiet, almost like there was no soul inside him.

"You seem like the main character amidst all this chaos. One sheltered from all the ruins, holding in his hand the very power to decide fates."

Now, although Seiya couldn't care less about the man's nonstop gibberish, this somehow rubbed him the wrong way.

Main character? Sheltered? The power to decide fate? Even with his memory an unstable roller coaster, it couldn't be denied that he had always had to fight! That he had always gotten everything through the hardest ways there was.

"What nonsense is coming out of you right now?" Seiya finally spoke, his tone dripping with edge.

The commander's head snapped up, a bit surprised that Seiya responded to him. And that too, in such a harsh way.

He's seen Seiya as one able to control his emotions, always suppressing his anger, and even when he acts in anger, he keeps calm.

But has he hit a nerve? Why? Was what he said wrong in any way?

"I do not know why you people think it's okay to conclude on someone's life when you know nothing about them," he said, making the commander rethink his words.

"Sheltered you say? For all I know I've always had to fight for everything I wanted. What power to decide everyone's fate do I have when I always fight to make things go the way I want? Whatever I get, whatever I make, all was done by the strength of my hands. Strength that I alone acquired. So, exactly what main character am I?" He asked, gaze fixed straight at the commander, waiting for an answer.

Seiya's protest against the conclusion drawn about him found a place within the commander's thoughts, stirring a quiet reevaluation. A while ago, he was only filled with regrets and pains from losing his men, no space for anything else.

But now, Seiya's response had created a space for itself within him. The commander couldn't deny that the situation he's been faced with has messed up his thinking faculty.

Because there was no way anyone who looked at Seiya would say he was sheltered in any way, or that he had the power to decide fates.

Seiya was no main character, whatever he's had till date had all been gotten with his own sheer strength. He's had to fight for it. He didn't have it any easier than any of them.

From his appearance alone, his sufferings scream. Even if the depths of what he has endured cannot be discerned from his appearance alone, it can still be sensed.

He was just relentless. Just one of the other unlucky humans whom life had given lemons but made something out of it.

Who is he to conclude anything about such a person? Who is he to decide what the young boy was? No one!

After a moment of going through things in his mind and reflecting on himself, another faint smile graced the commander's lips.

"I apologize," he spoke softly. "I have spoken out of turn."

Seiya didn't respond. Though he felt irritated that people judge others with little to nothing they know of that person, he kept silent. As long as the commander has recognized his mistakes, it's okay.

Dwelling on unnecessary things would only expend energy, and that was something Seiya never does.

The commander's head dipped once again, his voice still quiet as he spoke in a whisper.

"Still, you should've shown mercy."

Seiya regarded him with evident disbelief, exasperated at his words.

Although Seiya saw no need to respond to him, there was something that unsettled him regarding them. And he needed to voice it out.

"Why do you all stress me so much though?" He asked, his tone genuine and seeking for an answer.

In the midst of such dreadful chaos, his question came off so silly that the commander didn't know whether to laugh.

"Oh, we do?" The commander responded, chuckling softly.

"It was hard to sleep when I came. These pests of yours allow me no peace. They carelessly approach me like I'm their acquaintance—charging so foolishly at me without gauging my strength first. They act stupid."

The commander's gentle laughter drifted softly through the village. It had the villagers staring awkwardly—puzzled that he could still find something funny even with all that's happened.

"They for sure are stupid," the commander affirmed, steadying his breaths from laughing too much.

"But then again, Seiya," he began, his tone now serious. "You had told us all you weren't the one who killed the girl. But now, one of the villagers who were present when it happened is saying otherwise. Who should we believe?"

Seiya's face turned rigid instantly, dark with rising anger.

Before the moment could stretch, the commander continued.

"Will you be merciful enough to permit I resurrect them?" The commander asked, referring to his fallen comrades.

"Please," he added when Seiya delayed in responding.

"It isn't like rewinding time like we were doing before. Everything that's happened will stay with them, so they won't carelessly approach you anymore."

"Then do," Seiya responded.