Sealed in Steel [ Tank Litrpg ]

"That's impossible," Elian repeated firmly.

"Why is it impossible?"

"Continuing the quiz? Deities chose to leave the mortal plane so their powers wouldn't affect our reality. If one stayed behind, we'd know. I mean, they'll change the world in insane ways if they've been around for thousands of years. We'd really know. And it'd be a pretext for other deities to return here—their forms on Fellenyr expressly say they want to. It'll be War of the Gods all over again. The divine body parts left behind contain just a tiny, tiny fraction of their owners' powers so it doesn't count."

"What if a deity was much reduced during the War of the Gods, its powers greatly diminished that it wasn't included in the blanket Ascension?"

"Did something like that happen?" Elian asked with as much calmness he could muster. He had balled his hands into tight fists. He had heard this theory in his past life.

"Writings of catfolk deciphered by Ambrose spoke of the deity of the Giants," Thalman said as he leisurely floated ahead. "Not a deity. The deity. They had a powerful entity who blessed them with their size, leading to their dominance in a part of history obscured to us. In some ways, their creator. And they called this deity… the Elder Giant. Also, Father Giant, the First Giant, those sorts of names."

This is it, Elian thought. Thalman wasn't aware he had pieces to a different puzzle. The answer not available in the previous timeline could be here.

In Elian's previous life, around a year before his death, seers and diviners discerned the plans of the Giants to awaken that freaking stupid Elder Giant. Damn that mountain of a bastard who Cursed him!

The Elder Giant supposedly had a terrifying form, far bigger than all the Giants. And it would cause the end of humanity. Many who saw this vision died in fear. A few survivors gave fragmented accounts, pieced together by scholars who poured over ancient writings to understand them.

The Council of the United, the last alliance of the surviving humans, sent spies and scouts to Giant-controlled lands to investigate. They found the Giants excavating ruins to look for something… many somethings needed to awaken the Elder Giant. The Giants had been working on it throughout the years of the war and they seemed to be nearly done. It prompted the Council to form armies to attack Blunderbore, the capital city of the Giants.

Elian didn't know the exact details of the spies' reports because he wasn't an important person. Just a middlingly strong guy with no connections. He had to argue his way into joining the attack on Blunderbore to find out more and stop the Giant's plans in this life.

When he first heard about the Elder Giant, he thought there was some kind of mistake. It sounded like a deity was on Fellenyr, the mortal plane. Shouldn't be. But the leaders of the Council of the United believe it very strongly.

Thalman could probably tell him why.

"You're saying," Elian said, "that this Elder Giant is a deity who failed to Ascend because it was weakened during the War of the Gods? Extremely weakened from the sound of it."

"Not simply weakened," Thalman replied. "Broken apart into many pieces, such that each piece wasn't pulled during the Ascension. What remained of the Elder Giant was barely a deity. It was also why the Giants didn't worship any other. Of course, there was the obvious—Elder Giant, Giants. Another is that the individual parts of the Elder Giant could give their own Boons."

Thalman stopped and turned around.

Elian immediately wiped his face clean of emotion. This should be only a random chat to him. He wasn't certain of Thalman's intentions, whether the priest was a friend or foe, and didn't want to reveal his knowledge of the Giants.

"You might be wondering how I knew all this," said Thalman. "The catfolk kept records of it in this temple."

Thalman raised his hand. It glowed brightly. Elian tensed, wary of an attack though the chances of the priest turning hostile was low. Thalman pointed his hand to the right and shone a strong beam of light on the wall.

Elian took a few steps back, taking in the whole image of the mural that was wider than the gates of Vigor Hill.

The centerpiece wasn't a catfolk, unlike all the other carvings in the Dark Forest. Instead, it showed a humanoid form with a fairly humanoid face, its feet near the ground, its head bent to follow the curve of the domed ceiling above. A Giant, made clear by the many tiny catfolk at the bottom of the mural only coming up to its ankles.

This Giant was divided into nine pieces. That was how Elian interpreted the head floating about the neck, the right hand not connected to the arm, and so on.

"The right hand…" Elian whispered.

The severed right hand ended at the wrist wrapped in a bracelet, the same one worn by the Hundred-Armed Magistrate, identifiable by its design and runes. Did this mean the Magistrate was part of the Elder Giant? The hand that Cursed Elian didn't look big enough to fit the Elder Giant he had seen, but it might become bigger if reattached.

Chains dangled from the bracelet, reaching the Elder Giant's feet. Some catfolk figures grabbed the chains. They laid claim to the severed hand.

"The Giants gave that hand to the catfolk?" Elian asked.

"That is the most common interpretation of many priests, past and present. It does look like it, I agree. A gift for a vassal kingdom perhaps? Another plausible explanation is that the Giants left it with the catfolk for safekeeping. What I've found is that the Giants didn't want the pieces to interact with each other. See that all the other body parts, not just the right hand, are bound by those bands. Those runes maintain the pieces separately, not allowing the deity to regenerate and regain its powers over the thousands of years it has stayed on Fellenyr. I have reason to believe that if the Elder Giant is reformed, it will Ascend—the Giants were preventing this."

"They're keeping their deity imprisoned here? So much for being called a deity."

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

This answered some questions. It wasn't Elian's imagination that the Giant King appeared to control the Elder Giant. The Giant King even wielded the Elder Giant's Curse by his own will. Though huge, the Elder Giant didn't do anything other than stand menacingly in the background.

"It would lead to that conclusion," said Thalman. "I suspect the Elder Giant's Ascension would strip the Giants of their powers. Why else would they not want their deity to be whole again? Wouldn't it be hilarious if the Giants suddenly became smaller in size? They would also lose the Boons granted by the individual body parts of the Elder Giant. That much I could tell from the writings of the catfolk elsewhere in this temple.

"The catfolk guarded the Hundred-Armed Magistrate, ensuring it did not come in contact with other Elder Giant pieces hidden elsewhere. It is no coincidence that the Magistrate became the cornerstone of their civilization. It's possible the Giants orchestrated it to be that way, ensuring the catfolks' guardianship of the Magistrate."

"No ninety-eight other arms then," Elian said. "Just two. Is it even really called the Hundred-Armed Magistrate?"

"Yes. It states Hundred-Armed Magistrate in the description of its Boon and Curse, doesn't it?" Thalman glanced at Elian when he spoke that last word.

"Oh, you're right." Elian intended to wait for Thalman to reveal that he was Cursed. "It doesn't say Hand of the Elder Giant."

"And also, no. Come along." Thalman led Elian further into the temple until they reached another mural.

It was of the Magistrate. Or the right hand of the Elder Giant. Things were confusing. And there was a curious figure next to the hand. For a moment, Elian thought it was a tree before realizing it was a humanoid with many, many arms jutting out of its upper body. They came out of its chest, arms, stomach, just everywhere. Looking closer, its head was somewhere in that mess.

"Probably just a couple dozen arms carved there," Elian said, "but I'm guessing that's supposed to be the real Hundred-Armed Magistrate. What are the catfolk doing to it?" He didn't say that the seals around looked like they were for merging energies.

The catfolk magical constructions were bizarre and hard to decipher, reminding him of the first time he read Angloise—there were some symbols vaguely similar to modern English alphabets, but he couldn't understand the words. It was the same how he could guess what the catfolk runes were supposed to be but not how they were used.

"They are implanting the essence of the true Hundred-Armed Magistrate into the Elder Giant's hand," explained Thalman.

"There really was a Magistrate then? What happened to it?"

"Died during the War of the Gods, according to Ambrose," said Thalman as he withdrew his light and resumed floating into the temple. "The catfolk used the Magistrate's essence—I don't know what that means or where they found it—to turn the Elder Giant's Hand into its own deity. You can consider the entity in our temple a partial reincarnation of the original Magistrate.

"The Giants could've taught the catfolk how to do it, or they figured it out themselves. In any case, the catfolk used their own manufactured deity to build their empire. They did an impressive job until they didn't. Now, don't ask me about what happened to the catfolk. I don't know. Neither does Ambrose or any other priest. I frankly don't care. They are gone. The Magistrate remained—it is only this that holds my interest."

"I have something else I want to ask." Elian followed Thalman through a bridge with floor-to-ceiling openings on either side that must've been covered in glass in the past. "Where are the other pieces of the Elder Giant? Did the Giants give them to other civilizations?"

It wasn't random that the Giants landed on Sarnival Port. It was the port that could accommodate their humongous ships closest to their first actual target—the Temples of Tribulation where the right hand of the Elder Giant was located. It became even more imperative for Elian to defend Sarnival Port. He also needed to find the other pieces and stop the Giants from reforming the Elder Giant.

Thalman looked over his shoulder and smiled at Elian. "You have to ask an expert on Giants for that. Unfortunately, I can't recommend anyone. It is hard to make friends given I can't move, as you have probably deduced by now."

"Why are you telling me this, all about the Elder Giant and the Magistrate?"

"Because I want you to help me end the Magistrate and free ourselves from its Curse." They reached the end of the bridge and faced a grand stone door marred with deep cracks. "I suppose it is time we meet for real."

Elian looked around. "Where is Priest Ihadir? The message you left with Borlen… Isn't Ihadir here too?"

"He was here," Thalman said. "But he fled when he realized I had freed myself. Despite his intimidating appearance, Ihadir is not one to rush into a fight. And if he did so against me, he would've lost. He took the most logical option and ran away."

Thalman placed his hand on the stone door. Its scars glowed an angry bright orange as if its insides had turned molten. The stone door heaved itself open, the grinding of stone against stone disturbing the quiet night. Wind gushed out, so cold that Elian felt stabs in his lungs inhaling it. A fearsome aura radiated outward.

"Aren't you worried he's going to alert the other priests of what's going on here?" Elian asked.

"Not so. Ihadir is busy playing with my clones in the forest. I was worried you'd inadvertently run into him and be caught in the fight. He can be quite a savage, and his punches could've obliterated you before we've had our proper meeting. Wagering you'd take the straightest path from Forge Hill to here, I diverted Ihadir elsewhere."

"I suppose this is time for our proper meeting you speak of?"

Thalman gestured at the opening before fading away. Lights of different colors spilled from the open doorway, as well as the ominous chanting of many people. Tendrils of darkness crept out of the doorway, only to be dissipated by flashes of light.

Intonations of release, he thought, recognizing some words and voices. Thalman wasn't completely free yet.

Walking inside the chamber, he saw what he expected.

Around thirty Thalmans knelt on the floor, reciting magical litanies to unravel binding enchantments. Each clone was covered by various Aether constructs. Elian would have to spend hours to figure out the purpose of each construct. On the floor, elaborate seals securing the chamber unraveled, line by line, rune by rune.

At the end of the chamber was the person they were supposed to secure—Thalman, the real one. He stood on shaking legs, helped by floating constructs to keep his body upright, a loincloth his only covering. He had one hand raised as it was secured on the wall with a wooden stake.

Noticing the placement of the other stakes, Elian deduced that Thalman had been nailed to the wall, arms and legs spread out. Thalman might've been in that position for the last ten years.

Now, only one stake remained impaling Thalman. It was slowly getting pushed out of the wall. Freedom was near.

Thalman had the same height as his clones but had a very different appearance. He was extremely thin, with barely any flesh on his bones. His gaunt eyes showed all white. His skin was covered with tattoos of the Magistrate's Curse, point scales with lines so thick they made his skin almost black. But it was a black that shone, overpowering back the light of the clones.

And the Kymorathi number on Thalman's chest was… Elian couldn't understand. It kept on shifting, jumping around in the thousands as it flashed red.

Elian walked past the kneeling Thalmans.

"A proper meeting, at last," said the real Thalman in a wispy voice. "You came earlier than I expected. A little bit more and I'd have removed this last constraint and properly welcome you."