The Huntsman Of Death:A Gamer's POV As Side Character

And the man floating before him was called The Observer.

The Observer studied me with an amused expression, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly. Then he spoke, his tone sharp but playful.

"You’re here to own it. Did I hear that right?"

"Yes!" I answered firmly, my voice steady and unwavering.

For a moment, silence filled the space. Then, out of nowhere, the Observer burst into laughter, the sound echoing around us like a thunderclap in the vast emptiness.

"PFFFFFTTTTFFFF!" he snorted, holding his stomach as his laughter sent him spinning mid-air. "Oh, this is priceless! The funniest thing I’ve heard in eons!"

As his laughter died down, he straightened his posture, dusting off his white hat with a theatrical cough. His tone shifted, becoming serious.

"The Great Arcanist Moroni crafted many copies of Celestial Guidance and scattered them across the world. You’re not the only one with access to this knowledge. So, tell me, what makes you think you deserve to own it?"

The Celestial Guidance.

A book crafted by an Arcanist at the end of his hopes.

A person aims to transcend to Godhood and fight the Gods to enact his revenge for the misery and sufferings of his childhood days yet only to realize the vast gap between the mortal and Gods.

Before dying, he left all the knowledge he accumulated in crafted artifacts in the form of the book Celestial Guidance.

Gaining entrance was just the first thing.The real thing was gaining sole control of this mini world.

I looked up at him, confidence blazing in my eyes. Without hesitation, I answered, my voice strong and resolute.

"The world has seen several epochs come and go. Moroni lived in the Third Epoch, yet how many people today know of him or his legacy? He didn’t leave this behind for nothing. He left it for a purpose. And I, Lukas Star, standing here in the Repository of Celestial Guidance, vow to fulfill the shattered dreams of past epochs."

The words barely left my lips when an overwhelming force slammed into me like a tidal wave. My knees buckled, and I was thrown to the ground, trembling.

The Observer was suddenly inches from me, his ever-present smile now unsettling. He tipped his white hat back with a graceful hand, revealing his eyes—gleaming with shifting, kaleidoscopic colors that pierced through me.

The world around us blurred, and I felt as though I’d been yanked into another realm. When my vision cleared, I found myself kneeling on a cold, starlit floor. The icy chill seeped into my bones, sending violent shivers through my body. My breath hitched as dread clawed its way into my chest, suffocating me.

Before me was a throne unlike anything I’d ever seen. It shimmered with a light so radiant, so celestial, that it seemed unreal. The throne itself appeared to be carved from pure starlight, each edge glimmering with soft, golden hues. But it was the figure seated on the throne that truly commanded my attention.

She was cloaked in an aura so dazzling it obscured her form entirely, her light pulsating like a living heartbeat. Only the faint outline of her crossed legs and poised posture could be seen against the brilliant glow. Behind her, the throne shone even brighter, casting an ethereal halo that made it impossible to look away.

Then her voice came.

It was warm and sweet, like the embrace of a mother, filling me with a sense of comfort and longing. My chest tightened, my heart aching as memories of my own mother’s love surfaced. But her words, though soft and melodious, were far from comforting.

"Mortal…" she began, her tone carrying a heavy, unspoken weight. "You mortals never seem to learn and always try to bite the hands that feed you."

Her voice struck like a blade, and the warmth I felt was ripped away, replaced by a bone-deep coldness that wrapped around my heart. My body trembled uncontrollably as the light around her dimmed slightly, leaving the space eerily quiet.

The air turned heavy, oppressive, and the starlit floor beneath me felt as though it would swallow me whole. A chilling realization crept over me, one that sent shivers racing down my spine—this was no ordinary being. The light, the power, the presence—it was divine and absolute. I had dared to speak boldly, but now I faced the overwhelming truth: I was nothing in the face of this celestial force.

The radiant figure’s voice rang out again, calm yet brimming with authority, its warmth now replaced by a biting edge.

"We gave you knowledge, we gave you power, we gave you freedom—everything you asked for. But..." She paused, glancing around the empty expanse with a nonchalant air.

"Why do you mortals always overstep your boundaries and try to reach godhood?"

Her question hung heavy in the air, but before I could respond, a voice came from within me muttered with venom, "Hypocrisy’s!"

"Huh?!"

The sound of my own startled reaction escaped before I could stop it. Strangely, the goddess mirrored my confusion, her glowing form tilting slightly as if caught off guard.

Suddenly, an unseen force took hold of my body. My knees lifted from the icy starlight floor, and against my will, I rose to my feet. My mouth moved, yet it wasn’t my voice speaking—it was something else entirely, something ancient and wrathful.

"You…" the words spilled out, sharp and defiant. "Each one of you crawled from places similar to ours. You started in darkness, in frailty, in desperation—just like us. And yet, you sit there on your throne, acting as if you’re different. Why can’t I rise? Why can’t we rise?"

"You feed on our beliefs and our worships gave you the power of faith.You are nothing without us so why can’t we rise to the very place you sit."

The goddess shifted slightly, her radiant light pulsing like a flickering heartbeat. She looked down at me, her laugh soft but cutting, echoing endlessly in the celestial void.

"That’s because," she said, her voice growing icy, "you are an insect in our eyes—something so insignificant that I could crush you with a single thought."

The moment her words reached me, something inside me shattered. It was as if her voice didn’t just speak to me but to every fiber of my existence. My sanity began slipping away, unraveling like frayed threads in a storm. A crushing weight bore down on me, and suddenly, I felt my very being pulled apart.

It wasn’t just physical pain; it was far beyond that. My mind burned, as if ancient knowledge and incomprehensible truths were being forced into it. Fragments of alien concepts and impossible realities tore through me. My past, my memories—all the moments that made me me—splintered into pieces.

I felt my identity dissolve, my sense of self scattering into dust. I couldn’t remember my name, my purpose, or even what I was. My body no longer felt human. Instead, it was as if I was being stretched across realms, my soul exposed to countless dimensions, each one incomprehensibly vast and merciless. I glimpsed things no mortal should ever see—shapes that didn’t belong, sounds that twisted into colors, and the crushing realization of my own insignificance in the infinite expanse of existence.

The pain was unlike anything I had ever known, sharp yet suffocating, tearing apart my spirit while leaving my body intact. It was endless, timeless—a torment that couldn’t be measured or comprehended.

Unable to endure it, I screamed.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

The sound tore through the void, my anguish reverberating into nothingness.

And then…BOOM.