The Mage Who Devours Disasters - Chapter 65

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 65.
The Banquet of Gods.
A day when the highest-ranking deities gather in one place.
The grandest, most magnificent, and most prestigious event in all of Asgard.
Yet Heimdall, the God of Tempests, had never held much interest in the banquet.
It bored him.
The banquet was merely a shallow stage for self-aggrandizement.
Parading newly acquired capable Apostle Deities as trophies.
Exaggerating and boasting about accomplishments one had achieved.
A pointless affair where deities flaunted the size of their factions and the loyalty of their subordinates.
So Heimdall always abstained.
On the rare occasions he did attend, he would sit off to one side, nursing Nectar before departing early.
The deities’ affected laughter and political maneuvering clashed with the raw essence of the tempest.
But.
This banquet was different.
For the first time in millennia, my heart thundered with weight.
There was only one reason.
‘Rag.’
The one at the center of the hottest gossip in the Tower of Gods right now.
That absurd creature who started with zero aptitude for calamity, then shot up to Floor 55 in a single breath.
The bizarre monster who shattered common sense and mocked providence itself.
Had become my Apostle Deity.
I intended to formally announce it before everyone at this banquet.
That Rag had become my complete Apostle Deity.
I would solidify that relationship before all creation.
Simultaneously, it was a warning of sorts.
-I cherish this one, so do not think to touch him carelessly.
The justification was abundant.
The war with Cryos.
Rag had achieved an overwhelming victory against Skadi’s Apostle Deity.
‘That wretched woman Skadi’s twisted face will be worth seeing.’
The Winter Queen, who had tasted the bitterness of defeat.
Merely imagining her crumpled expression made my lips curl upward involuntarily.
Walking among those arrogant ones with my Apostle Deity, Rag, at my side.
The thought alone was exhilarating and satisfying.
So I descended to Floor 55 in good spirits.
I came personally to bring him to the banquet.
I descended upon the Training Ground with a tremendous gale, opening my mouth with majestic authority.
-My Apostle Deity, Rag, listen. You must prepare for the Banquet of Gods, so….
But.
Heimdall couldn’t finish his sentence.
His mouth hung half-open, frozen in place.
His gaze had locked onto a single point and refused to budge.
“…Kwon Cheonsa?”
Heimdall stared at the blade in Rag’s hand with a dumbfounded expression.
A holy sword that had just completed its evolution, spewing forth pillars of light.
It was Abriel.
Heimdall’s eyes trembled uncontrollably.
‘This can’t be real.’
The evolution of a holy sword was no ordinary occurrence.
An Archangel.
Originally, an Archangel served as a kind of seal or the role of a holy sword.
It was used to select the virtuous and lend them power, or to suppress malevolent beings like the Mad Deity.
By itself alone, it was a divine treasure that even lesser deities dared not gaze upon.
But.
From Kwon Cheonsa onward, the nature changed entirely.
An entity corresponding to the seventh rank among the nine celestial hierarchies of angels.
A guardian of the world’s rulers, a symbol of power that enforces grand justice.
This was a spiritual treasure that even higher-ranking deities could not easily possess.
It could not be created by mere desire, nor obtained by pouring Nectar into it.
The conditions for evolution were extraordinarily stringent.
Evolution into Kwon Cheonsa required two conditions to be perfectly fulfilled.
First, to slay great evil.
Second, to be truly ‘virtuous.’
Great evil. One must cut down beings possessed of formidable malevolent power.
And repeatedly. Countless times.
Even ordinary lower and middle-ranked deities could not endure this process.
What then of the second condition?
True virtue was synonymous with being ‘spotlessly pure.’
It meant being supremely noble and exalted.
‘Rag, that monster is truly virtuous?’
…He had always shown more than I could imagine.
But no matter how I thought about it, he seemed far removed from virtue.
Yet the holy sword had evolved.
Archangel Abriel had genuinely acknowledged that ferocious, inscrutable monster as ‘truly virtuous.’
Heimdall wiped his face with his broad palm.
He had come down with dignity after all his mental preparation, yet this creature shattered his common sense to dust every time they met.
But.
A bizarre smile began to spread across Heimdall’s lips.
* * *
“Hahahaha!”
Heimdall burst into uncontrollable laughter.
‘What is this guy doing?’
Had he suddenly lost his mind?
I cautiously took a step back.
Turan, still gripping his greatsword, flinched as if to block my path.
But Heimdall paid no heed.
He strode forward with great strides.
And then.
Whoosh!
“…?!”
The massive man suddenly pulled me into an embrace.
His grip was so powerful it nearly suffocated me.
“You truly are my Apostle Deity!”
Heimdall thundered, pounding my back with unbridled joy.
My bones felt like they would shatter.
“Promotion to Kwon Cheonsa! Extraordinary, Rag! Absolutely extraordinary!”
His voice trembled with uncontainable delight.
His eyes seemed fixed only on Abriel, whom I held in my hand.
I forcibly pushed Heimdall away.
“I can’t breathe.”
“Krahaha! Magnificent! You’ve made me proud once again!”
His reaction was utterly incomprehensible.
Was the evolution of a single holy blade truly cause for such elation?
I rubbed my chin, studying him carefully.
“By the way, what have you been talking about this whole time?”
“Hmm?”
“You mentioned the Divine Banquet—what exactly is that?”
At my question, Heimdall’s laughter subsided.
Yet a trace of merriment still lingered in his eyes.
He cleared his throat and assumed an air of solemnity.
“Ah, yes. You’re still unfamiliar with the workings of the Tower of Gods.”
Heimdall clasped his hands behind his back.
“The Divine Banquet is a festival where the most influential Deities of Asgard gather.”
A festival.
If they were influential Deities, they would be at least high-ranking or supreme rulers.
“Simply put, it’s where the Tower’s power brokers convene to flaunt their strength and forge connections.”
“Flaunt?”
“Indeed. A place where everyone is eager to exaggerate and boast of their accomplishments.”
He cast a glance at Abriel in my hand.
“Ordinarily, I have no interest in such trivial gatherings. But this time, circumstances are different, are they not?”
A grin spread wide.
Heimdall’s lips stretched into a predatory smile.
“Since you’ve become my Apostle Deity, I intend to bring you to that gathering officially and proclaim it to all.”
A mischievous glint danced in his eyes.
“And Kwon Cheonsa’s blade, no less. Ha, I’m already thrilled at the thought of seeing the eyes of Skadi and the others bulge from their sockets.”
He was eager to show me off.
I stifled a laugh internally.
But outwardly, I furrowed my brow.
“If it’s the Divine Banquet, what should I prepare?”
“Prepare?”
Heimdall waved his hand dismissively.
“Nothing is necessary. I, Heimdall, have already prepared everything for the Divine Banquet flawlessly.”
He declared with arrogant certainty.
“You need only bring yourself. Come and stand beside me.”
“Must I truly go?”
At my question, Heimdall’s expression grew serious.
He nodded solemnly.
“You must go without fail.”
He continued in an unwavering tone.
“This is no ordinary festival. You are shaking the very history of the Tower. You’ve ascended too quickly, too high.”
“….”
“The Tower is filled with those who envy and suspect you. Even if they don’t harm you directly… for instance, there will be those who try to use Abdulla to obstruct you.”
Investigation Team Commander Abdulla.
The man who recently suspected me—or rather, the Mad Deity—as the culprit in the serial murders of lesser deities, and who had sought to strangle me.
“If you do not appear at this Divine Banquet, the voices of those who slander and doubt you will only grow louder.”
Heimdall gripped my shoulder forcefully once more.
“But if you stand confidently beside me and prove yourself to be my complete Apostle Deity…”
His gaze sharpened with intensity.
“Not a single soul will dare bark at you.”
Indeed.
I understood.
This was a gathering I could not afford to miss.
In a sense, it was Heimdall’s political stratagem to protect me.
By sheltering me beneath his authority, he would shield me from the countless checks and suspicions of the Tower.
Of course, beneath that lay a shallow vanity—using me to elevate his own status.
‘Not a bad proposition.’
I was curious as well.
The Divine Banquet.
A gathering where only the highest-tier deities and above convene.
Who are the true rulers of this Asgard, the masterminds behind those who destroyed our world?
This was a golden opportunity to directly confirm their faces for the first time.
After all, you must know your enemy before you can strike them down.
‘It could be dangerous.’
I’d be walking straight into the enemy’s lair.
What if my identity was exposed, or I faced an unexpected attack?
‘…So what.’
If a one-in-a-million situation arose.
If I found myself facing death, surrounded by the Deities in the worst-case scenario.
If I was driven into a corner where even Heimdall couldn’t intervene.
‘Then I’ll just summon Adun.’
Summoning Adun would be the end of it.
The very body of the Void Watcher itself.
Even the highest-tier Deities wouldn’t dare recklessly challenge that.
I nodded.
“Understood.”
Heimdall’s face broke into a satisfied smile.
“Good. Then come back at this time tomorrow. Make your preparations by then.”
Whoooosh!
With a violent gust of wind, Heimdall vanished into the void.
Silence descended once more where he had stood.
“M-Master.”
Seria approached from behind, where she’d been watching.
Her face was filled with concern.
“Are you truly going? It could be dangerous.”
Turan also spoke up in a heavy voice, leaning on his greatsword.
“My lord. Allow us to accompany you as your guard. We will at least protect the courtyard before the Banquet Hall.”
“Not necessary.”
I refused firmly.
“You must guard Floor 55. Even more thoroughly in my absence.”
This was my first appearance as an Apostle Deity.
If I showed weakness or dragged along an entourage of guards, they would only look down on me.
I had to go alone.
I stroked my chin thoughtfully.
Tomorrow’s Banquet of Gods.
I had a hunch that I might just see a very familiar face there.
‘Yamamoto.’
I drew upon the protection of my true form and drank Nectar like water.
He was undoubtedly a Deity who wielded practical dominion over the Tower.
The Banquet of Gods was said to be where the most influential Deities gathered.
There was a possibility that he too would be attending the Banquet of Gods.
No—he would certainly be there.
Beyond that, I might also glean crucial information regarding Earth and avatars.
…I could not afford to let this golden opportunity slip away.
* * *
The next day.
The moment I stepped into the Garden of Gods, where the Banquet of Gods was being held, following Heimdall.
“Hmm.”
“Is that the rumored Rag?”
“The Apostle Deity of Heimdall, they say.”
…Every Deity in the hall turned their attention toward me.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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