Suddenly, a massive pressure descended over the entire realm.

The air itself grew heavy, pressing down like an invisible mountain.

The violet-haired woman gasped, her knees trembling, and even the ground seemed to groan under the weight.

Alex staggered for a second—until the constellation-like symbol on his hand began to glow faintly.

The crushing weight around him was immediately canceled out, as though the light from the mark itself rejected the divine pressure.

'It's shielding me from the pressure. Thank God,' Alex thought, staring at his glowing hand before lifting his gaze upward.

High above, floating in the molten sky, a god revealed himself.

The god of blacksmiths—Hephaestus.

His figure was immense, broad-shouldered and muscular, arms thick with strength honed from millennia of hammering divine steel.

His stance, however, carried a faint limp, and his back hunched slightly as though the weight of eternity bore down on him.

His rugged face was marked with scars and burns, a visage many might call "ugly," but to Alex it radiated a harsh, undeniable beauty—like the battered face of a warrior who had never once bowed to time.

His thick beard and hair were wild, curled, and streaked with soot and ash, as though fire had singed them countless times.

His skin was bronze and weathered, patches scarred black from flames, veins glowing faintly like molten cracks across his arms.

Dark bags hung under his eyes, proof he hadn't known rest in ages. In one hand, he clutched a bottle that smelled unmistakably of strong booze.

The other arm, however, carried a hammer—massive, ancient, its head glowing with traces of unending fire.

Every inch of his presence screamed of a god who had once forged thunder bolt for Zeus and armor for Ares… and yet now stood as a broken giant, still greater than all mortals combined.

The moment Alex laid eyes on him, goosebumps raced across his skin. His entire body screamed at him to kneel, to submit.

But he clenched his teeth, forced his legs to stay firm, and lifted his chin, staring straight into the god's eyes.

Hephaestus's rugged lips twitched upward.

"Interesting. Very interesting. Not bending even in front of the divinity of a god… Even though I am long past my prime, stripped of almost all my powers except for creation of weapons itself, he can still look me in the eyes… what the hell are you, boy?"

A familiar voice spoke in Alex's head.

`[Host, I think now is the perfect time to demonstrate your beauty and make him cry and bow down to you—just like you bragged earlier.]`

Alex's eye twitched. 'Sorry. My good looks aren't for public demonstration.'

Meanwhile, behind him, the violet-haired woman and her subordinates collapsed to their knees.

"We greet the Divine Craftsman, the Celestial Artificer, Hephaestus, the Flame Eternal of Creation!"

Their voices rang with reverence, trembling as if a single misstep would bring divine wrath.

Hephaestus raised his scarred hand. "Stop that. Just 'my lord' will do."

"As you command, my lord," they chorused in unison, bowing lower.

Hephaestus smiled faintly before his molten gaze shifted back to Alex.

"Boy," his voice thundered like a hammer striking an anvil, "what is your name?"

In that instant, the suffocating pressure vanished. The urge to kneel evaporated as if it had never existed. Alex exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders, his eyes fixed on the god.

'So this… is the presence of a god, huh. He's powerful beyond any comprehension.'

He straightened, showing no weakness. "The name's Lucifer… Lucifer Morningstar."

For a heartbeat, Hephaestus's molten eyes flickered. He tilted his head, murmuring,

"Lucifer… Morningstar… Where have I heard that before?"

But after a pause, he shook his head.

"No… It's just the alias you're using inside the Tower of Ascension. Not your real name."

His gaze sharpened.

"Tell me your true name, boy. Not the mask you wear inside the Tower."

Alex's lips curled into a grin. "Well… I don't feel like telling you. So make do with the alias."

The violet-haired lady shot to her feet, her golden eyes burning with fury. "How dare you—!"

But before she could take another step, Hephaestus's voice boomed. "Lina. Stop."

She froze instantly.

"It was rude of me to ask," the god said, chuckling. "If he doesn't want to tell me, then so be it."

"Yes, my lord," Lina bowed deeply, shame and anger flashing across her face.

Alex took a step forward, his voice calm yet edged with steel.

"So this is you. The Celestial Artificer. The divine craftsman who forged Zeus's thunderbolt… the god of blacksmiths, the master of armories and artifacts—Hephaestus himself, huh."

His eyes gleamed with challenge.

"Since you're here in person, I suppose I've proven my worth.

Now, will you fulfill my request? Craft me a weapon greater than all others—a weapon that can never be replicated, never wielded by another in the entire multiverse."

The forge-god's molten eyes softened into a smile.

"You've proved more than just your worth, boy. You are something else entirely."

---

Hephaestus's molten eyes glimmered as his deep voice rumbled through the air.

"After all, Lucifer—you defeated Lina. Who, even I dare say, in pure swordsmanship, could never be defeated by any mortal."

At that, the violet-haired lady Lina's lips curved into a faint smile. "I'm honored you think of me so highly, my lord."

The warriors behind her bowed low in reverence, their eyes shining with fanatical devotion.

Alex leaned back slightly, watching the scene unfold. 'So this is what a crazy fanatic lunatic looks like in front of her god, huh.'

Hephaestus turned his heavy gaze back to Alex.

"I already have perfect weapons for you. Believe me when I say this, ever since I was trapped inside this tower—my strength weakening with each century—I poured every ounce of my talent into creating them.

That is why I tested you, to see if you were worthy. For if you are not…"

His voice deepened, a growl echoing through the iron halls.

"You will end up just like Lina—trapped here for all eternity."

Alex's eyes slid toward Lina. He let them linger in a slow, deliberate way, analyzing every curve of her body with unsettling intensity.

Lina shivered under his gaze and snapped, "Stop staring at me like a perverted stalker, or I'll gouge out your eyes!"

Alex raised his hands innocently.

"How dare you accuse men of being perverts? I wasn't staring—I was simply… appreciating how well your figure is balanced. Purely from an observational standpoint, of course."

"You—!" Lina's hand shot to her sword, rage flaring in her golden eyes.

"Stop. No fighting," Hephaestus commanded, his voice like rolling thunder.

Lina froze, lowering her head in submission, though her glare never left Alex.

Alex tilted his head, smirking. "Jokes aside, she looks perfectly normal. What's wrong with her?"

With a flick of Hephaestus's fingers, three colossal chairs and a small table materialized from sparks and steel. He lowered himself onto one, gesturing Alex to the opposite seat.

"Sit," he ordered.

Then his gaze shifted to the others. "Aside from Lina, all of you—keep watch. Report if anything happens."

"Yes, my lord!" The retainers bowed deeply before vanishing into the molten haze.

Lina reluctantly sat at Hephaestus's side, still glaring daggers at Alex.

Once the three of them were settled, Hephaestus spoke again.

"You are not the first to request that I craft the greatest weapon ever to exist. The first time someone came to me, I obliged. After all, it is my passion to forge weapons beyond compare."

His eyes darkened like smoldering coals.

"But the one I made it for… was proved unworthy by the weapon itself.

The moment she touched the weapon, her body began to break. The weapon rejected her. After all, the greatest weapons always have a will of their own."

Alex frowned, his voice low. "So you're telling me it killed its wielder."

Hephaestus's scarred lips curved into a grim smile. "Yes." He turned his gaze toward Lina. "And that wielder… was none other than Lina herself."

Alex's eyes snapped to her. Her expression crumbled into shame, her golden eyes dimming.

'Partner,' Alex thought sharply, 'is she what I think she is?'

`[Yes, host. I meant to tell you before. That girl has no body. What you see is her soul, sustained by Hephaestus's divinity. Without him, she would have been erased long ago.]`

Alex exhaled, staring back at the god. "So you're the one keeping her alive—in her soul form."

Hephaestus gave a small smile. "Good. You're sharp. I like sharp people."

Lina finally spoke, her voice trembling but sincere. "I am eternally grateful to Hephaestus. If not for him, I would have been gone. I can never repay this debt."

Hephaestus softened, his tone gentler. "You don't have to. You've already done enough by giving me company while I'm trapped here."

Lina's eyes watered, her voice breaking. "My lord…"

Alex tapped his fingers against the table. "So what you're saying is… I could end up like her, huh?"

"Exactly," Hephaestus said. "You can die a miserable death. Think carefully before you proceed."

Alex leaned back, smirking despite the heavy tension.

"Well, well. How motivating. So now, I can even die by the very weapon I want to wield. Wonderful."

Before Hephaestus could respond, the iron doors burst open. Two warriors stumbled in, kneeling with desperation.

"My lord—emergency!" one shouted. "The last lands of the world we were guarding have been attacked again!"

"The last of your believers are in danger," the other cried.

Hephaestus's expression hardened like hammered steel.

"Those damned fallen angels… not again."

----

A/N:

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