Chapter 413

Back then, Karsus created the 12th-level spell “Karsus’s Avatar” and used it to steal the portfolio of the goddess of magic.

He actually succeeded and took the goddess of magic’s portfolio for himself.

Unfortunately, a mortal body and soul couldn’t contain all of it, and he was overwhelmed in an instant.

The Weave then collapsed, and the Netherese Empire fell.

Even the goddess of magic was forced to sacrifice herself, voluntarily severing her connection to the Weave to prevent a worldwide catastrophe.

[What if he had chosen a different portfolio back then?]

Sola, the author of the Tome of Apotheosis, posed this soul-searching question.

Karsus’s mistake wasn’t “becoming a god.” It was that he was far too arrogant and overconfident, with ambitions that exceeded his abilities.

Anser’s heart pounded. He suppressed his emotions and continued turning the pages.

But Sola abruptly changed the subject, once again discussing Ao, the Overgod.

Ao was the sole supreme deity of the “Forgotten Realms” world, with authority extending over Toril, Abeir, and the corresponding regions of the surrounding Astral Plane, Inner Planes, and Outer Planes.

But that was as far as it went!

His jurisdiction did not encompass Wildspace worlds such as Eberron, Athas, or Krynn.

‘Jurisdiction.’ Anser considered the word thoughtfully.

Ao’s power was beyond question, but he didn’t govern everything. His primary responsibility was Realmspace and the corresponding regions of the planes.

Any foreign deity that wanted to spread its faith within Realmspace first had to obtain his permission.

Under Ao’s rules, divinity was bound to responsibility, and gods were required to fulfill the obligations associated with their respective portfolios.

Because a god’s power was closely tied to faith, the spiritual energy of believers would form a “faith network,” anchoring the god’s power within Realmspace.

Under such circumstances, even foreign gods had no choice but to abide by Ao’s rules. Otherwise, they could only abandon their followers and portfolios in Realmspace.

As for those who refused to follow the rules, Ao’s harshest punishment was to shatter their divine rank.

But for a god, as long as there were still believers who remembered them, there would always come a day when they could return.

Bane, the God of Tyranny, had once fallen to rock bottom. Now he had reclaimed the portfolio that belonged to him and once again entered the ranks of the greater deities.

Throughout that process, Ao did not seem to have interfered.

Foreign gods had an additional layer of insurance. They also had established bases of worshippers in other Wildspace systems, so even if they lost a divine war and temporarily lost their portfolios in Realmspace, they could still make a comeback.

At this point, Sola proposed three paths to godhood.

The first was to abandon faith and embrace primordial power, as dragons and primordial beings did.

All those so-called rules placed very few restrictions on dragons. They didn’t need worshippers, essentially following the legendary path of attaining transcendence through sheer power.

The second was to travel to another Realmspace and choose a Wildspace system without an Overgod to ascend to godhood.

But the risks were high, because every other Wildspace system had its own flaws!

For example, Greyspace, home to the world of Greyhawk, had experienced multiple large-scale divine wars, such as the Grey Devastation. Gods fell there at a high rate, divine status was extremely unstable, and competition among the gods was exceptionally fierce.

Krynnspace, home to Dragonlance, existed under a dualistic cosmology. Even gods could attain only limited freedom beneath the shackles of fate.

Eberron, meanwhile, was a wasteland for faith. It had been created by three progenitor dragons, and most people worshipped either the progenitor dragons or forces of nature, making it difficult for traditional pantheons to establish themselves.

Athas was even known as a godless, lifeless wasteland.

That was why foreign gods all flocked to Realmspace. It was simply too attractive.

Ao’s orderly protections, a stable ecosystem of faith, a clear path of divine advancement, relatively loose boundaries on his jurisdiction…

As long as you didn’t break the rules, Ao simply didn’t care.

Therefore, Sola’s most highly recommended method of attaining godhood was to remain on Toril, use “Karsus’s Avatar” to steal some marginal or newly formed portfolio, then join a pantheon and find someone powerful to shelter under.

The pages that followed even listed several portfolios, along with… the 12th-level spell “Karsus’s Avatar”!

With a bang, Anser snapped the book shut without even daring to examine the spell model closely.

‘This isn’t a Tome of Apotheosis. It’s a guide to becoming a god!’

He stood up and began pacing back and forth.

This book was more valuable than an Artifact. Many of the theories and analyses within were things he had never heard of before.

And they seemed highly feasible.

He had always looked down somewhat on “gods” before. Perhaps it was arrogance carried over from his previous life, but he’d always felt that becoming a god meant giving up your freedom.

Yet when he thought about it, even the gods and immortals in the myths and stories of his previous world were often bound by all kinds of rules and restrictions. That didn’t stop them from enjoying far greater freedom than ordinary mortals.

And the most important reason was their longevity!

A short life was the greatest limitation of all.

‘So Realmspace really is this good. No wonder Sehanine Moonbow’s first choice for her divine descent was here.’

In Faerûn, the people of a single city might follow more than a hundred different faiths. You really couldn’t fault the place for its tolerance.

Anser took a deep breath, his thoughts somewhat unsettled.

He hadn’t expected the Ravengard family to be hiding something this valuable. But obtaining a spell for attaining godhood now was a little too early. He wasn’t even Legendary yet.

The minimum requirement for learning “Karsus’s Avatar” was being Legendary.

‘This spell might not even be reliable. I’ll keep it hidden for now. I can’t use it yet anyway.’

He had a long life ahead of him. There was no need to worry about problems for his future self just yet.

‘Sola is probably a false name. For all I know, the guy might already have become a god.’

He sighed inwardly. For some reason, his thoughts turned to Grand Duke Ravengard, who had given him the book, and he suddenly realized that he had underestimated the man.

It turned out the Grand Duke’s wager was far greater than he’d imagined.

Other people hoped their sons would grow up to become great men. The Grand Duke was hoping his dragon would become a god.

‘Godhood is still far too distant. I’ll focus on what’s in front of me first.’

He connected to the Spirit Net and notified Federal Prime Minister Quentin and Commander-in-Chief Stoll to assemble a team and prepare to take over Grand Duke Ravengard’s soldiers and supplies.

Quentin and Stoll would personally oversee the operation, with Sakkors providing assistance.

As soon as the message went out, the group chat fell silent.

No one had expected Anser, after barely settling down for any length of time, to stir up something this big again.

“Paros, 1.1 million gold pieces, and more than a thousand soldiers?” Quentin sent.

“Right.”

He didn’t mention Sola’s Book of the Tablets of Fate or the Artifact.

“That sounds like a lot of money, but I’m afraid it won’t be enough to retake Baldur’s Gate,” Stoll said with his usual bluntness.

Maintaining and training full-time soldiers was extremely expensive. A member of the defense force earned 1.5 gold pieces a week, and once food and other necessities were included, each soldier cost at least a hundred gold pieces a year.

That didn’t even include additional expenses such as weapons, equipment, and soldiers’ benefits.

An army of ten thousand defense troops alone would cost more than a million gold pieces a year.

The Kingdom of Cormyr was wealthy enough, yet even when defending its capital, Suzail, it could only muster five thousand soldiers and had to transfer more from elsewhere or raise temporary levies.

The Federation had only just been established, and the combined military forces of all its territories still numbered fewer than three thousand. No one really wanted to take on the mess that was Baldur’s Gate.

“Don’t worry. It won’t be that difficult. As long as everyone works together in good faith, retaking Baldur’s Gate within two years won’t be a problem,” Anser reassured them.

“Understood…”

Several messages quickly popped up in the group. The difficulties lay in the future, but the money was right there in front of them, and everyone’s enthusiasm quickly picked up.