Slaanesh? Get out of my head!

Seabury, the open-air altar, inside a secret chamber.

Aaron Sallyan opened his eyes. The warm, soothing moonlight around him gradually faded, and the mural of the Lady of Silver on the wall lost its glow.

The lingering exhaustion and weakness that had plagued him since he collapsed after killing someone finally left him. Every hidden injury, even the scar on his leg from a childhood fall, had vanished under the Lady of Silver's blessing.

Aaron was back to full strength. He felt a warm, motherly presence envelop his entire body.

Heat surged from Aaron's heart and spread through his veins to his face.

He flushed to the tips of his ears.

Aaron could not put the feeling into words. Shame, inadequacy, and gratitude tangled together inside him. He slapped his cheeks hard, wishing he could crawl into a hole.

His body and soul had returned to the mortal world, and every step of his plan had worked.

He had survived. He had sought help from the Church of the Silver Mother. He had persuaded Lady Silverstar to cast a Ninth-Circle Miracle for him. He had met the Lady of Silver herself, received her favor, and been healed by her divine power.

Now that divine power had strengthened him, he finally had a body and soul capable of bearing a deity's authority.

He had gotten what he wanted, and Aaron was prepared to pay the price. After emerging from the pool, he stood with his hands at his sides and waited for Selûne to name her terms.

To his surprise, Selûne asked nothing of him. Despite the divine power she had spent restoring him, despite the pallor of her face, she offered not even a word of admonishment. She merely smiled and told him he could leave.

Aaron, who had been ready to sign away his life, stared at her in disbelief.

As a noble, Aaron knew exactly what Divine Magic cost in the Realms. Even a master Cleric of a church devoted to a just and lawful-good god of justice would charge at least a thousand Golden Lions to cast the Seventh Circle Regenerate, and that was at cost—a price reserved for the closest of friends.

A lawful-neutral or neutral-good Cleric would charge at least fifty percent more.

Clerics of other alignments were worse. They often charged over a hundred percent more and imposed extra conditions. On the other hand, they tended to be more "accommodating." Most evil Clerics, for example, did not care who you were, what you intended to do, or why. Pay enough, and they would arrange the Divine Magic.

The Church of the Silver Mother had paid an enormous price to save Aaron, exhausting decades—perhaps a century—of accumulated resources. Selûne, too, had spent so much divine power on him that the goddess could not hide how pale she was.

How much would all that cost? The thought alone made Aaron's scalp prickle.

In his previous life, he had been Chinese, and he naturally carried a typically pragmatic outlook. He understood that a church needed wealth to keep running. No one could live on love alone.

To gain something, you had to give something up. Rewards required sacrifice.

He was ready to do that. With the authority of four mighty deities in his possession, he was certain he could repay even such a staggering debt.

Yet Selûne, who had plainly spent a great deal of divine power, wanted nothing.

Aaron's soul had come from another world, and her response left him at a loss. At last, he asked, "What can I do for you, my lady?"

"I need nothing from you, last of the Sallyans. Just live as yourself."

"But... you've shown me such kindness. I feel obliged to repay you and your followers for all you've done for me," Aaron insisted.

"What do you think I want from you, my child?" A faint smile touched the goddess's pale, lovely face. "I already have it."

"The most wonderful treasure in this world is you, healthy and whole. That is the best thanks you could give me. My child, you think too much in terms of gain. Do you believe everything in this world has a price?"

"Love is priceless, my child. For you, and for me."

Aaron fell silent.

His life before, and his life now, had taught him to expect equal exchange, with each side getting what it needed.

He understood what the goddess meant.

How many children had grown up dreaming of great, selfless deeds, only to become the very people they once despised?

How many hot-blooded young Paladins had begun their careers crying, "Destroy evil," only to reach middle age with weary eyes?

"If you truly want to thank me, don't dwell on this. Go save people. Help those who truly need it."

Now Aaron had returned to the mortal world, to the secret chamber beneath the open-air altar.

He felt he had behaved terribly.

From the start, he had talked frantically about money, contributions, and his family's glorious history. Like a drowning man clutching at a rope, he had promised anything to keep from being turned away. He had assumed his future held limitless possibilities and that anything could be traded for.

He had the means to pay. He possessed the authority of the Chaos Gods!

But what if she had never intended to ask him for anything?

His face burned. Her nobility against his narrow-mindedness, her selflessness against his selfishness—it all shamed him. He did not know how to face Lady Silverstar, who had cast a Miracle for him outside, or the goddess in the mural, who had healed him without asking for anything in return.

Then an unspeakably vicious thought rose unbidden in his mind.

A twisted, perverse voice whispered to him: You can never repay her. So use your weapon on her, darling! If the debt can't be paid, at least you'll give both of you the finest experience, the greatest pleasure!

Oh, I'm so excited~ I'm so excited~

He was startled by the filth and malice deep within his own soul. His expression shifted again and again.

At last, he calmed himself and slowly stood.

Slaanesh? Get out of my head!

As his expression returned to normal, a strange aura enveloped the Viscount. His sky-blue eyes seemed as vast and clear as the distant heavens, carrying a deadly allure.

He was radiant.

Extraordinary Charisma!

...Extraordinary Charisma...

When Aaron emerged from the secret chamber, the change in him immediately caught the attention of Lady Silverstar, Miss Cleric, and the wild, violent musclewoman, who had finished the task she had been handling.

Lady Silverstar had watched Aaron grow up. She cared for him and regretted what had happened to his parents, so she had always looked at him with an elder's affection for a younger person.

But when Aaron appeared, even she found herself drawn to him for the first time.

How had he suddenly become so captivating? Especially those sky-blue eyes. They were like the deep sky over the Sea of Fallen Stars. One glance, and she could almost lose herself in them!

Lady of Silver above—Extraordinary Charisma!

Miss Cleric standing nearby was just as shaken. Her mask hid her expression, but not her surprise.

"Hey, hey! How did this kid suddenly get so charming?" Asha, the barbarian woman, looked Aaron up and down. He stood six feet tall, with a lean, streamlined build and a face at once familiar and strange. She could not help blurting out, "Did the Demon Queen of Succubi kiss him in there?"

"Shut up, Asha!" Miss Cleric's tone changed sharply. "Are you questioning our lady's judgment?"

"I'm not! I just... uh, he didn't look like much before, and now he looks a whole lot better." The musclewoman thumped her sleeve and swung a fist. "He'd look even better with more muscle."

Aaron heard her, but paid no attention. He went to Lady Silverstar, knelt on one knee, and said solemnly, "Words can't express my gratitude, Lady Silverstar. If there is ever anything I can do for you, please ask."

Lady Silverstar nodded.

She was weak. Casting the Miracle had taken an immense toll, and she would need a long rest to recover.

The Church could not run on love alone. Aaron's circumstances were unusual; perhaps one day he truly could help.

Aaron then knelt before the statue of the Lady of Silver without saying a word.

Selûne might not want his repayment, but Aaron had made up his mind. He would repay the goddess for what she had done for him.

A drop of kindness deserved a spring in return. And she had practically given him a new life.

"Aaron, you intend to return to Suzail, don't you?" Lady Silverstar asked softly, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

"Yes. I have to report what happened with the Warlock Mepham as soon as possible. I also need to bring Hicks's body back to Suzail for burial." Aaron looked toward a box on the table. It held the remains the Paladins had recovered of Hicks—less than thirty percent of his body. With it so badly destroyed, neither the Third-Circle Revivify nor even the Seventh-Circle Raise Dead could bring him back.

Mepham. Cyric.

Just wait. Sooner or later, you'll pay for this in blood!

Aaron silently clenched his fist.

"That works out well. Eleanor needs to go to Suzail too. Why don't you travel together? You'll have company on the road."

"?" Miss Cleric immediately turned to Lady Silverstar.

"Eleanor, come with me. There's something I need to tell you." Miss Cleric followed the high priestess inside, and Aaron used the opportunity to sort through his belongings.

His chain mail was largely intact. His surcoat was battered, though the Purple Dragon emblem on it was still fairly clear. His helmet and standard-issue longsword were both gone; he would have to report the losses when he got back.

Beneath the mail, he wore a complete set of nobleman's leather clothes. He also had a travel pack. He discarded the rations and waterskin inside, but twenty-five Golden Lions remained, along with ink bottles, quills, blank paper, and other odds and ends. There was also a rolled-up document.

"In the name of Obarskyr, Aaron Sallyan is hereby granted the title of Viscount of the Kingdom of Cormyr."

—Alusair Obarskyr

At the sight of that name, a tall, imposing beauty with blond hair and red eyes came to Aaron's mind.

The document proved his noble status. As long as he carried it, he could travel through the kingdom unhindered and avoid trouble in many parts of the central continent and the Sword Coast.

Aaron put the document away, then turned his attention to the golden ring on his index finger.

It was the Sallyan family heirloom, Red Conrad's Ring. Now it had passed to him.

The ring was a magic item. By instantly sacrificing a certain amount of blood, its wearer could rapidly convert that blood into magical power. The power lasted about a minute before fading if unused, and Red Conrad's Ring could be activated only twice a day.

To the old Aaron, the ring had been almost useless. He was not a spellcaster.

But things were different now.

Slaanesh's authority had been unlocked beneath Selûne's divine authority, and the power of Chaos now flowed through his blood.

"Miss Asha, I'll be leaving soon. Could you do me a favor?" Aaron asked the barbarian woman, who was peeking around nearby, once he had finished packing.

"What is it?" She instinctively wanted to refuse. She had always looked down on nobles who ordered others around instead of doing things themselves. But for some reason, when she met Aaron's distant sky-blue eyes, the refusal would not come.

The kid had been through a terrible ordeal and was lucky to be alive. He was a Touched One, too. Wouldn't it be a bit harsh to turn him down without even hearing him out?

"Here are twenty Golden Lions. I lost my weapon, and I need another one—a sword, hammer, or blade would do. You know this place. Could you get one for me? I'll need it very soon," Aaron asked earnestly.

"That's easy! You came to the right person. Wait here, and I'll get you a sword." The barbarian woman took the money and strode off, full of confidence.

Charm successful! Aaron smiled with satisfaction.

First-Circle magic: Charm Person.

It was normally an awkward spell. If the caster lacked charisma, the target could easily resist it. Even when it worked, the effect lasted only a short while. During that time, the target treated the caster as a familiar friend, but a request that seriously harmed the target's interests—or required the target to hurt himself—would snap him out of it at once.

Worse, once the charm wore off, the target realized what had happened. Even a thoroughly decent, lawful-good person would be left with a poor impression. Someone evil might draw a blade on the spot—or start planning revenge.

But as the holder of Slaanesh's authority, Aaron could cast Charm Person without limit or cost. Most importantly, no one would realize afterward that he had used it.

And this was only the earliest ability to manifest from Slaanesh's authority.

He would have to discover and explore its other powers himself.

Aaron knew he had to make haste. The authority of the Chaos Gods was both a gift and a curse. With Selûne's power, he had suppressed the curse for now, but that did not mean he could relax.

The Chaos Gods could come for him at any time. It might be a thousand years from now.

Or it might be tomorrow.

Aaron did not know when they would appear. All he could do was grow stronger, fast. Right now, he was far too weak. After eighteen muddled years, he was still only a first-tier apprentice. In many webnovels he had read in his previous life, protagonists made names for themselves at twelve or thirteen and reached legendary rank by eighteen.

This ordeal had also confirmed a suspicion he had long held.

Mortals could not wield the authority of the Chaos Gods. Only a deity's intervention could suppress it—and suppression was all it could ever be. The power still belonged to someone else.

If Aaron wanted to make the Chaos Gods' authority truly his own, he had only one choice.

Ascend to godhood!

And he would have to ascend with the divine portfolio of Chaos!

New chapter's up—please follow along~

This is only the beginning of Slaanesh's authority. More powers will unlock gradually.

Yes~ Yes~ You hairless thing, die, die!