SPLASSSSSH
The sound of water splashing down on the glass-tiled floor echoed through the shower room, where stood none other than Ryuk.
His hair clung to the back of his neck as the water hit his shoulders relentlessly, as if it had been waiting all day to fall.
It was cold, but it was just as he wanted it—as he felt the hot sensation in his chest and the burning rush in his veins slowly begin to cool.
Dark, dried blood on his body rained down, covering the shower space with a nauseating iron-rich scent.
But it was soon all drained into the outlet as the perfusion feature was activated, filling the room with an honest, floral aroma that made him feel as if he were walking in a garden.
It was a heavenly sensation.
The sensation a knight feels after a long battle, and finally, a rest amongst the green grass.
"Haaaaa."
Foggy white breath escaped Ryuk’s lips as his eyes slowly opened, sending out sharp streaks of starlight-blue that danced across the entire room before settling on the golden panel in front of him.
[Congratulations on reaching the Peak of the Ascension Stage.]
’I was hoping to reach Dominion, but to craft those runes on the veins... I feel like it would take another 60 hours.’
’It’ll be worth it, once I find the time to continue—but only after the commemoration,’ he silently thought as he flicked his finger, causing the shower to stop.
One side of the wall slid open, revealing a neatly folded towel.
Slightly warm, and Ryuk dried off with it before fully stepping out of the room.
The house contained everything and came with everything.
Its food, its area of perfume, its watches, and its clothes—mostly official suits capable of aligning with its wearer’s form.
And it didn’t take long before Ryuk appeared before the dressing room.
Combing. Creaming. Getting dressed.
It all took just about thirty minutes, and he gave one last look in the mirror before stepping out of the room and taking the stairs down.
STEP
STEP
STEP
The sound of footsteps echoed as Ryuk descended toward the lower floor, only for many sounds to echo again as he glanced toward the living room and saw Antares sitting comfortably, a bag of popcorn in hand, while the wall-sized TV flashed with bright images.
It was the news—and surprisingly, it had something to do with recently recorded footage of him fighting the Knulls, accompanied by a tip suggesting he could appear at the upcoming "Ashfall Ceremony" scheduled for the following day.
"Didn’t know you were quite the local hero in town."
"And by the way, not many seem to know you, yet they address your strength as that of a god. I can imagine you’ve been keeping quite the low profile," Antares said as he turned his head behind him with a grin, but blinked as he looked at Ryuk.
It was like looking at a completely transformed figure compared to his previously half-dead state.
For one, he was dressed—not overly formal but far from casual.
A long-sleeved, high-collared white shirt—smooth and fitting to his quite masculine frame—with subtle golden lining along the collarbone and wrists.
Slim, matte-white pants with smooth seams and tailored stitching shaped like modern dress pants, and sleek grip-soled white shoes that emitted a faint sound when walking.
The clothes seemed to have been made from soft tech-fabric—simple, but sharp.
On his hands, he carried a sleeveless long white coat that seemed to be a matching outer layer, though he wasn’t yet wearing it.
It collated perfectly and centered him, making him resemble a member of royalty, without donning overly lavish clothing.
The refined and charismatic aura was still undeniable.
"I’m no local hero. I just returned to find my world losing a war, and I decided to join."
"The ’Hero’ and all that—that’s propaganda from the media. And maybe, the people’s hope for a savior, I think," he replied as Antares shrugged.
"Well, you could’ve arrived and just taken a fresh breath and sipped wine—instead of going to war. That alone makes you a hero, whether you like it or not."
"So... you’re dressing up for the ’Ashfall Ceremony,’ I assume?" he asked, and Ryuk nodded.
"Yes. And I guess quite the eyes will be on me, with the news being on TV," he muttered with furrowed brows as Antares rose to his feet.
"It’s fine. I think you’ll do good, just with the attire—even if you remain quiet all through."
"So, we’re leaving now?" he asked, ready to go, but then watched as Ryuk raised an eyebrow at him.
"What? I thought that was the place where you’d link me up with the head of the Forge Organization."
"It is, of course. But—um—you’re not wearing a shirt, and your trousers are worn out, dirtied with war marks..."
"You look quite... brutish," he said as Antares snorted.
"Brutish? Of course, I’m brutish. I’m a Barbarian. Brutishness is in the blood. You keep up your fancy young man style, and I’ll keep mine."
Ryuk scoffed.
"My fancy young master style? You think I fuck with these types of clothes? My best attire is a simple white shirt and trousers. Makes it easier to move and end battles quickly."
"These shoes and suits—they’re not me. But I must appear in them."
"And why? Who would hold you if you didn’t wear them?"
"It’s not about being held. It’s about paying respect. Everyone will be dressed like this—officially."
"It’s a commemoration, a day to honor those who died in the war. It’s disrespectful for anyone to come in with seemingly no care for their image."
"Like a prospect who disregards the weight of what is ongoing," Ryuk said as he walked past Antares, heading toward the exit.
"You have thirty minutes. Take a bath. There are thousands of clothes like mine upstairs."
"Get into something official, and we’ll be on our way."
"You’ll be getting those new gauntlets and an axe in no time."
"But you won’t if you appear like a barbarian in front of a man who runs a multi-billion-Star Coin company."
He said, exiting the living room as Antares’ brows furrowed further before he eventually sighed and muttered:
"Anything for a Forge..."