Chapter 6: The Inheritance Dungeon (IV)

“Kh—!”

Gray’s eyes snapped open as his lungs filled sharply with air.

His entire body jolted, twitching like it had just been jolted back to life. He sat up instantly, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest.

“What the… where…?”

His arms, once crushed and shattered, moved freely.

Even the deep gash on his ribs was completely gone.

His legs, which had been snapped like sticks in the final trial, now pressed against silken sheets…, not stone, not blood-soaked marble…

“Sheets?”

His eyes slowly scanned the room.

It was… a bedroom

Black lace curtains swayed gently from an unseen wind.

Thick obsidian pillars held up a towering ceiling, where strange red vines coiled like veins across the marble. A large vanity with golden roses carved into its frame sat nearby, along with elegant Gothic furniture.

And then… the scent hit him.

Jasmine and blood.

He cursed, pushing himself out of bed quickly.

“Where the fuck…?”

He nearly stumbled, his legs still felt strange, and immediately scanned the walls for a way out.

And there it was: a tall, dark-wood door on the far end of the chamber, marked with strange symbols faintly glowing crimson.

“Tsk… a bedroom? Whose fucking idea of a joke is this?”

He strode toward the door and reached for the handle, until…

“Leaving so soon~?”

The voice coiled around him like silk. It sounded too soft and delicate, making the hairs on his arms stand up directly.

He froze for a moment before slowly turning around, as his hand moved to his rapier.

And the first thing he saw…

Were her eyes.

Two glowing white orbs that seemed to stretch beyond the physical.

They didn’t shine like moonlight… they burned like stars.

And as he tried to avoid their gaze, his vision slid lower and caught the rest of her.

“W-who… are you?” he muttered, already drawing his rapier and pointing it at her.

The woman, if she could be called that, stood barefoot on black marble.

Her form was… completely surreal… divine if one could say.

Long silvery-white hair curled down her back in gentle waves, draping over her bare shoulders and barely covering her impossibly massive breasts, each one straining beneath a thin web of dark lace, hugging her like it was painted on.

Her waist was thin. Sinfully so, almost unnatural, snake-like in its delicate curves. Her hips flared beautifully from it, drawing an hourglass shape that felt engineered to tempt.

A sheer slit down her gown revealed a single, endlessly long leg. Pale, smooth, and sculpted to perfection. Her nails were painted black, sharp and shining, and every motion she made felt like a slow seduction.

Red lips curled into a charming, mischievous smile.

“Mhm~ you’re in my inheritance dungeon, but you don’t know who I am?” she giggled softly, brushing a lock of her hair behind one ear as she reached for a porcelain teacup.

Her voice was velvet dipped in wine, souding like a cure in a snake’s den,

She sipped daintily, her lips wet with tea before licking them slowly with the tip of her tongue.

“Come join me~” she purred, motioning with one finger toward the small tea table beside her, set for two.

Gray didn’t move as he kept his weapon raised.

But after a long pause…

He cautiously stepped closer until he stood before the table.

There were exactly two teacups with fresh steam rising from both.

Plates of soft pastries, a silver tray with honey and lemon slices, and a black-glass teapot carved with roses and thorns.

It was like a noble’s tea party.

But here?

’…How is she manifesting like this? A god’s power is immense… way too dense to appear physically in the mortal realm unless…’

His black eyes narrowed.

’…She’s severely weakened.’

He sat down, but never let go of his sword.

She poured his tea gracefully, her long fingers brushing the teapot with ritual-like grace. Then her eyes lifted to meet his again, calm, composed, dangerous.

“So cautious~” she murmured, “Even after I healed you.”

Gray gritted his teeth.

“…What is this for?”

She smiled wider.

“I just wanted to have a small talk with you…”

Gray frowned at her words and didn’t touch the teacup at all.

He leaned back in the velvet chair, his rapier resting across his lap like a sleeping viper, his black eyes locked onto her every motion.

The goddess tilted her head, her silver hair falling over one shoulder. Her glowing white eyes shimmered in the dark like moons behind mist.

“Not thirsty?” she asked, her voice still silken.

Gray’s response was dry.

“What’s in it?”

She blinked innocently.

“Honey. Jasmine. A drop of celestial nectar.”

“…and?”

Her lips twitched.

“A little dreamleaf. To ease the pain.”

Gray chuckled bitterly.

“Ah. So you do drug your guests.”

He slid the teacup aside, letting it clink softly on the edge of the silver tray.

“I didn’t come here to be tucked into a velvet dream. I came to take your power.”

The goddess leaned back slightly, her smile softening, not fading, but dimming, like the candle of her amusement had flickered.

“But you didn’t pass, Gray,” she said gently.

“You failed the final trial.”

Her voice was calm, not mocking, almost motherly. But it grated against his ears like nails through silk.

“After all… You weren’t meant to inherit anything from me.”

Gray’s jaw clenched, his anger clearly rising.

“Right. I wasn’t meant to survive either, huh?”

She said nothing.

“I wasn’t meant to fight back when they threw me out,” he continued coldly. “Wasn’t meant to outsmart your little death puzzles. Or kill those guards. Or escape the collapsing chamber. Or drag myself, bleeding and half-dead, through every fucked-up illusion you threw at me.”

His hand slammed the table.

CLACK.

The teacup jumped.

The goddess didn’t flinch.

But her eyes narrowed slightly.

Gray leaned forward, eyes dark as oil and just as volatile.

“You didn’t save me because I deserved it. You saved me because I made this fun for you.”

“You watched me crawl. Struggle. Fail.”

“And now you sit here, sipping tea with me like I’m some amusing little mortal to be pitied?”

“No.”

His voice dropped.

“I don’t want your pity.”

“I want power… YOUR FUCKING POWER!!!”

Her smile faded completely now.

“I healed you because I admired your tenacity,” she said softly. “That doesn’t make you worthy. It makes you dangerous.”

Upon hearing those words, Gray…

He grinned, the same devilish smirk he had on his face when he thought of killing his step sisters, and finally taking revenge.

“Exactly.”

He stood up, and almost immediately, he lunged towards her.

Fwip!

She didn’t even have time to react.

His hand shot forward and grabbed her wrist tightly, too tightly for a mortal to touch a goddess.

Her expression shattered.

“H-Huh…?”

Her divine glow flickered, dimming slightly.

“You’re weak,” he hissed.

“I noticed it the moment I woke up. You’re manifesting fully in the mortal plane… in a bedchamber… you’re struggling to even maintain this realm, aren’t you?”

Her lips parted, but no words came.

So, he continued.

“You must be starving…” he laughed loudly.

“No champions. No heirs. No victories. Just a dusty old temple with illusions and pretty lights and no fucking legacy.”

He paused slighly…

“And yet…”

He brushed his hair back, his fingers practically digging into his own skull as his black eyes hollowly stared into hers.

“You’re still trying to act like you’re above me?”

THWACK—!!

In one savage motion, Gray flung her across the room like a doll.

The wind left her chest in a soft gasp as her body hit the bed, the same one he woke up in, bouncing slightly on the soft, silken sheets.

Her white hair splayed around her like a glowing halo.

Her thin gown slid up her thighs, revealing her smooth pale legs, flawless and glowing faintly in the moonlight pouring through the curtains.

She lay there, dazed, startled, her eyes wide, not in pain, but in complete shock.

She hadn’t expected that, not from a human like him.

“Aah…”

Gray stood frozen for half a second as he took a look at her.

“…Shit.”

His eyes dipped just once.

Her long legs were tangled in the sheets, the elegant curve of her hips, the soft rise and fall of her chest, and her lips slightly parted in breathless surprise.

His cheeks flared red.

“What the hell…”

He quickly looked away, clicking his tongue.

“Fucking annoying goddess…”

But the image of her lying there, vulnerable and glowing on the bed, caused him to frown once again, making him clench his teeth.

And at that moment, she slowly pushed herself upright, her hand pressing into the sheets, with an unreadable expression.

“You’re… the first mortal to ever touch me like that,” she whispered.

Gray looked back at her, face still flushed, but his eyes were ice cold.

“Get used to it.”

He stepped forward.

And as soon as he did that, she saw her face twitching. Her hands were trembling, but she was trying to hide it.

“Now… Talk.”

Gray uttered coldly, but she didn’t answer.

So, he took a step forward.

Then another.

“I said… fucking talk.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come fast enough.

SMACK—!!

His hand slammed into the wall beside her, splintering the wood and making the entire bedframe jolt with the impact.

“Ah…!”

She flinched immediately, her lips parting in a quiet gasp.

“I’m not fucking playing around,” Gray snarled.

His voice was raw, tearing from the back of his throat.

“I crawled through your fucked-up little dungeon. I almost died in it. I lost, and you still showed up. Why?”

She remained silent.

So he grabbed her wrist again in a rough manner, not as gently as before.

“You came to me like some merciful goddess,” he growled.

“But gods don’t waste power for nothing.”

He yanked her forward, forcing her off balance.

“So tell me… what the fuck is wrong with you?”

His voice cracked now, teetering on the edge.

“Why are you so weak…?”

Still no answer.

Gray’s patience snapped.

He shoved her hard, and she tumbled backward, hitting the headboard strongly, her hair whipping across her face.

“Answer me, damn it!!” he roared, voice echoing across the chamber.

The silence that followed was sharp as a blade.

Then finally…

She lifted her head, and the glow around her dimmed.

“…Because they abandoned me,” she whispered.

Gray paused in surprise, his rough breathing stopping for a moment.

“…What?”

The goddess slowly sat upright again, wiping blood from the corner of her lips where she’d bitten herself in the fall.

“I was forgotten,” she said, her voice coming out as a whisper.

Not trembling… but just… empty.

“The other gods targeted me. My worship faded. My name… erased from every temple. Every prayer. Every mortal tongue.”

She looked up at him, her eyes dull and ancient.

“I’ve been sealed in this inheritance for thousands of years. My power is bound to its trials. Feeding off the souls of the dead. Hoping for one… just one mortal worthy enough to bear my legacy.”

Her voice cracked now, just slightly.

“But they all died. Or failed. And every time they did, I got weaker.”

Gray continued staring at her.

“…You’re not some all-powerful goddess.”

She shook her head, slowly.

“…Not anymore.”

He stepped forward again, and his voice dropped.

“Then what were you?”

A pause.

Then she slowly parted her red lips and whispered:

“I was once known… as Jasmine.”

“The Goddess of Beauty & Destruction.”

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