So, I Transmigrated Into The Heavenly Realm

25. Iced Coffee, Warm Blood

25

Every street, every gathering place, every office and every dwelling place from the palaces of the upper city to the cramped boarding houses of the lower city was filled with gossip. News of the return of the fabled God of Wheat had leaked out despite how cautious those in the know had been.

It was causing a ruckus. Almost no-one had ever met him and those that had were relatively young at the time. To the young deities he had been an example that was held up of a God that was devoted to his followers, a tragic being, someone to aim to be like. He, in their minds, was just a historic figure on the edge of a myth that seniors scolded them to be more like. Especially those whose gifts involved food bearing plants.

"I heard he was a pretty popular God back then." A young God said in a cafe in the middle city surrounded by his friends, deities of a similar age as they drank coffee together. It was a cold day but they sat swirling straws through beverages filled with ice. The cubes rattled together in the glass.

"Fertility deities have an easy time." Another God said as he stirred his own drink in big lazy circles. There were a few raised eyebrows at that comment but no-one pulled him up about it. Many of the other Gods agreed with him and the ones that didn't knew to keep their mouths shut.

Fertility deities were predominantly female and their ability to gather human followers quickly was undeniable but providing humans with food and children was a high demand, high stress speciality that wasn't for anyone wanting the weekends off of work.

Without them the human race would go extinct and all of the deities went with them.

Many of the Martial Gods saw it as an easy win, in a broken and oversaturated market that they themselves were struggling to gather followers in.

"Aren't you the God of Door Hinges? I don't think you have space to talk about whether someone has it easy or not." A tiny Goddess asked around bites of a large loaf of crusty caramelised onion bread.

"Alrenu is the Deity of Divine Bacon and they don't even get a humanoid body." Someone else added, pointing to a giant boar attempting to eat a plate of macarons and drinking lemonade out of a bucket. "I think in comparison we all have it easy."

These two remarks fell on deaf ears though as the God of Door Hinges was patted on the back by several other gods who agreed with him.

"Why are you acting so sensitive? Are you on your period? You don't even have a calling 'Oh Goddess of All The Other Things We Don't Know About Yet'. " He sniggered followed by his lackeys as the rest sat in uncomfortable silence or got up and left.

"You know my name is Kay." She ground out between her teeth glaring at him over her sandwich.

The once comfortable air of a meeting between friends was gone and now there was a palpable tension in the group as the gulf between them widened. 

Someone made a sleazy joke about fertility gods and before anyone could laugh or admonish him, he was pinned up against a wall.

Pinned up by his throat.

Now struggling to breathe the pinned Deity looked down at the person who had begun choking them only to see the esteemed God of War glaring a hole through him.

"Oh... I forgot you weren't together before you betrayed him?" The God of Door Hinges sneered, leaning back in his chair. He was so laid back, he was almost horizontal.

The more savvy of those still in the little gossip circle fled at the look in Elgaldir's eyes as he dropped the jokester he was holding by the throat and stalked over towards the God who... shouldn't be feeling as comfortable as he was.

The look in his eyes was chilling. Elgaldir was the sort of senior God that was very formal in his interactions with juniors. He could be seen as cold and rarely was the type of God to attend social engagements but he was never visibly this angry in public.

For a martial god Elgaldir was usually the poster child for restraint.

Only one topic could set him off like this and the vast majority of residents in the city weren't stupid enough to provoke him.

~

Though his physical body was standing there in that cafe in the middle city his mind had been taken back in time to the Battle of Wind Blown Tears.

A flashback to a much worse time.

It was the night where everything had changed and not for the better.

Images passed by his eyes, more of a collection of obscure paintings than a movie. They were the shards of pieces of memory moving past each other like a kaleidoscope perpetually rolling. Mixing memory and nightmare into a soup of broken fragments.

In front of him the former God of War died. Killed by the Emperor of the Demon Realm who laughed whilst he did the killing.

Bulmor's face smiled at him, the sick smile he'd seen so many times before.

Elgaldir was holding a sword.

It wasn't his sword, the weight was different.

It was the God of War's sword. Now it was his sword.

He was the God of War.

He was the God of War now and it felt wrong. Nothing felt right. Elgaldir's head felt like someone had split in two with an axe and maybe they had. He didn't remember.

He was plunging the sword through the unprotected chest of Dythos.

Dythos' face of ultimate betrayal looked up at him. Big wide eyes and pale lips parted in shock.

The golden blood of its protector sprayed over the equally golden wheat surrounding his feet.

The realisation of what had been done hit Elgaldir again. There was nothing he wouldn't do to go back there and save him.

Save Dythos.

He was shaking.

Save Dythos.

The smell of blood was too strong.

He couldn't save Dythos.

Mini Theatre

Scene: Martial God sensitivity training 101 - Remedial Class

Teacher: So what do we think about fertility deities now children?

Martial Gods: *sitting uncomfortably* They perform a critical service for the mortal world and we should consider them as equally important as we are. No-one in the Heavenly Realm or the Underworld has an easy job.

Teacher: So now I want you to write an apology letter to every fertility deity, Dythos God of Wheat and to The God of War.

Martial Gods: *Groan* It would take a decade of solid writing to write a letter to EVERY fertility deity.