In a distant, unreachable place somewhere outside of the reaches of the world, many figures lay atop their own respective thrones. 

The thrones, each adorned with different types of elements corresponding to the owner's rule, shone brightly in the rays of the colossal sun that was directly above them. 

This place was known as Aurora, or the Gods' Resting Place. 

It was not that the Gods here were dead. No, this was where they would head whenever they held a meeting, or simply when their corporeal bodies could not handle their constant visits to the Mortal Plane any longer. 

There were usually no more than three Gods present at any given time. It was an unspoken rule; they didn't really see eye to eye with each other all that much. 

But when it came to it, all of their decisions were for the good of the planet. 

Today was no ordinary day though. The person that had done the most for the world they governed had now died. 

Realistically, Syalt could not die. This was what came with reaching the Ninth Realm, and was a privilege he could enjoy for as long as he wished. 

Reaching the Ninth Realm was no easy task. Even Syalt, who was one of the world's fastest learners, took more than ninety-percent of the lifetime of a normal human just to achieve it. 

And combined with all of his accomplishments in every field, he was bound to have caught the attention of the people ruling the world the moment his journey started. 

Seated in a semicircle formation, tens upon tens of gods were gathered. 

"It's that time, right?! He's dead, right?! Somebody tell me he's dead!" 

"Calm down, Polimus. I'm sure you have also felt it. It's as if something important inside you has died."

"I–I'm very sorry. Though seeing the man who was known to be unkillable willingly off himself like that… it bewilders me, Tresroot."

"That is understandable. After all, with all the good things he has done, you would think he would be happy." 

"What was that, wench? Have you already forgotten how much death and destruction he has caused during the latter half of his life!?" 

"Alright, everybody calm down!" 

A loud voice rang across all the gods' ears. The voice commanded authority, yet still sounded lighthearted and easygoing. 

"As you all may have seen, Syalt is dead. We do not know why he has chosen to end his life, but we must still do our jobs as gods." 

"That is, to either reward or punish him according to his disposition and the deeds he has accomplished."

And the moment he said that, the seemingly infinite amounts of Aether that flowed through the area began gathering in the area in front of the gods. 

"He's here." 

Golden energy spiraled into a large floating mass, and slowly began shifting its shape to that of a human. 

"Did you guys miss me?"

Even as it was shaping his body, Syalt's voice echoed throughout the halls of Aurora, and the gods' began to act more wary. 

This man was very much capable of killing at least half of the gods here, even if they were to team up and attack together. 

His power was feared even amongst the almighty, and as such no one dared to even offend him. 

There were many that hated him, even amongst the gods. They were mostly the weaker gods like Polimus, who was worried that his position as a god would be in danger if they wanted to turn Syalt into one. 

But overall, he was somewhat liked. 

"Welcome to Aurora, Syalt, The One Above All." 

The voice came from the god who had silenced the others earlier. His tone seemed to be even more relaxed, as if he was meeting an old friend. 

"I told you not to call me that." 

"Haha, my apologies. It seems that even in a place like this, I am unable to refrain myself from talking like this." 

"Don't worry about it." 

The countless years Syalt had spent back in the mortal realm seemed to have taken an effect on him, as he was no longer the same enthusiastic youngster he was in his youth. 

Instead, he was somewhat apathetic, and maybe a bit–no, he was out of sorts. 

"Pardon me. But now that you have arrived, I must inform you that you will have to take on a short test."

"What is it? A duel?" 

"No, none of the sort! Rather, you will just have to do one simple thing for me." 

"And that is—?" 

Before continuing on, Mortissus looked to each and every one of his colleagues. They all looked at him back, and nodded when they met his gaze. 

"Put your hand out, please." 

"Which hand?"

"It doesn't matter." 

"No, I won't be able to decide. Tell me which hand." 

"In that case, bring out your dominant hand." 

"But I'm ambidextrous." 

"This little—nevermind. Then please, put out your right hand. It doesn't really matter, but if you're going to be so stubborn, then I will follow your wishes." 

The other gods stared in shock. A mere mortal was conversing with a god? And so casually, at that! 

Everyone present here would know that Mortissus was not someone to mess with. He was by far the strongest god to ever take on the Leading Seat, and would not hesitate to strike his brethren down if he wished to. 

Did he put up this fake personality of his today because he knew Syalt was coming? Whatever it was, the whole thing was both perplexing, and fascinating. 

"There we go. I am finished. If you will please give me a moment." 

Closing his eyes, Mortissus sat back down on his throne. His seat was the highest among the hierarchy, and towered above the other gods' thrones like a human to an ant.

This special test was not usually something that would be conducted to just anyone. 

Whenever a human that the gods deemed worthy had died, they would bring their souls over to Aurora, and would have the person stand in trial. 

One could say that this was a "Valhalla" of sorts, with how the souls of worthy warriors were brought to a holy place.

"Okay, I'm finished." 

"What was the result, Mortissus? Tell us!" 

The same words came out from the others. They were all eager to see what would become of the so-called strongest human.

"Everybody, calm down please. My eyes have seen through his mind and soul, and will therefore lay out my observations." 

"Syalt is… nothing." 

"N–nothing?" The gods replied in surprise.

"That's right, nothing. He is a blank slate, and is therefore, unfit for judgement."

"Then what will happen to him?" 

"I do not know myself." Mortissus replied, also unsure of what to do next. 

The gods, along with Syalt, sat there in silence. This had never happened before. A blank slate? What were they supposed to do with him? 

Whenever someone was judged, they would either fall into the two categories, which was Chaotic or Orderly. 

It didn't matter what kind of person you were or what you did. You would always be placed into one of the two categories. Even the slightest more extreme evil deed could put you in the "Chaotic" category, even if it was just by a small bit. 

The same could go with the Orderly.

Let us imagine a person. This person, when first born into this world, is a blank canvas, much like Syalt right now. It is their experiences that mould them into the people they will be throughout their life.

Let us say this person has killed a stray dog once in their lifetime. But in atonement for his sins, decided to help out in an orphanage or a nursing home for the elderly for five years. 

Of course, the person could never get away from the fact that they killed another living being, but at least the good deeds they do later on could possibly outlift the evil ones. 

Yet Syalt was here, in the same state as a baby was when they were first born. So one could imagine just how confused the gods would be in this predicament. 

"Might I suggest something?" 

A hand was raised from one of the gods. It belonged to Tresroot, the Ruler Of Nature. 

Mortissus raised an eyebrow in response. 

"Please, by all means, go ahead." 

"If we are unable to find a fitting solution to this problem, I propose we let the mortal decide for himself." 

"Letting the mortal decide? Have you gone mad, Tressroot?!" One of the gods raised their voice. 

"Enough. Everybody please quiet down, before something… unfortunate happens." 

Throughout all this, Syalt just stood there with a blank expression, unmoving. He too, raised an eye to the goddess' words, but it soon turned into a barely recognizable smirk that disappeared as soon as it came up. 

"Do you understand the implications of what you are saying, Tressroot? If we let mortals decide what they want to do for themselves, then this will surely portray us as incompetent by those people." 

"I understand. But it is not like cases like this happen around the clock."

"Hmm…very well." Mortissus' eyes lit up, as if he had come to a decision. 

"Syalt! As Mortissus, the God over Gods, I will allow you to choose your fate! Tell me! What do you wish to happen!" 

"In that case, will you send me to a place with many things to do?" 

"I… don't quite follow. Could you specify what it is you mean by that?"

"Send me to a place that can entertain me for a year." 

"I still don't understand, but am I right to assume you want to be reincarnated into a place where you can take it easy?" 

"If you put it that way, yes." 

"If I might interrupt, Mortissus…" 

"You again, Tresroot. Speak."

"How about sending him to Earth? I'm sure it has many things for him to do, despite being an inferior planet." 

"Oh, that is a great idea. Since you come from there personally, am I right to assume you suggested this with your experiences in mind?" 

"Mostly."