Nightmare

The campfire crackled, and the underground river murmured, but those sounds seemed to recede in an instant, becoming irrelevant background noise.

Greg kept his chin propped on his hand and blinked once, then again.

The mixture of helplessness, worry, and disdain froze on his face, then developed fine cracks like glass struck by a heavy hammer.

"I..." His mouth opened, his voice a little dry. "I just... became a god out of nowhere?"

He spoke extremely slowly, as though he had to force every word out of his throat.

It was neither a question nor an exclamation, but a bewildered statement born of sheer information overload.

A god?

And it was that easy?

Wasn't this process a little too slapdash?!

Greg's thoughts began drifting uncontrollably in strange directions.

He now seriously suspected there might be some hidden secret about his origins.

Maybe, like a certain god of war whose name started with Kra, he actually had the divine blood of some deadbeat from the divine realm running through his veins, which was why he could acquire the status of "god" so easily?

Then what came next?

If this followed the usual formula, would he have to embark on a god-slaying journey too?

Start with minor gods, level up along the way, then cut down the god king and ascend the supreme throne?

It certainly painted a vivid picture, but Greg just wanted to clutch his head and yell for it to stop.

Because all he wanted was to lie low in the Dungeon until the ending!

All that fighting and killing was hardly peaceful!

Besides, the god-slaying business had an alarming mortality rate. Getting through it without a few trips to the underworld was practically impossible!

The black cat seemed quite pleased with his reaction. Her eerie green eyes narrowed slightly, as though she were smiling.

"Indeed. Though thou art but a demigod, with a feeble Divine Core, incomplete authority, and a lowly rank... thy essence has truly transcended mortality."

She confirmed Greg's understanding with a string of distinctly unpromising adjectives.

Greg finally recovered a little from his petrified state.

He lowered the hand supporting his chin and rubbed his face, feeling as though the flood of information had overloaded his CPU.

"Wait, wait... let's sort this out first."

He made a time-out gesture. "First question: you said that if you die, I die too? And if I die, you die too? We share a life?"

"Yes. Our fates are intertwined, our lives bound by the same pact." The black cat nodded.

Greg fell silent for two seconds, then abruptly covered his face with one hand and let out an anguished wail:

"Damn it-! A handsome, dashing, outstanding young man with a limitless future like me has to live and die with a... cat! We even share a lifespan?! What kind of new, cruel punishment is this?! Is this some sick joke?!"

"Now, now."

The tip of the black cat's tail flicked in displeasure, and a note of offense entered her voice:

"Mind thy words, mortal-oh, thou art a demigod now... only now can thy future truly be called 'limitless.' And I reiterate: I am no ordinary cat. I am a genuine goddess, Nightmare."

That final name carried the peculiar weight of divine speech, raising a faint echo through the cave.

"Shut up!"

Greg peered through his fingers with one eye, glaring at her with undisguised disdain:

"Someone like you, who doesn't inspire the slightest horny thought and can't even provide the most basic eye candy, doesn't deserve to be called a goddess!"

"If you've got a problem with that, turn into a beautiful older woman with curves in all the right places, a smoking-hot body, waist-length hair, and sultry eyes before you argue with me!"

"Oh?" Far from becoming angry, Nightmare, in her black-cat form, seemed even more amused, her eerie green eyes brightening.

"Thou dost not conceal thy ugly, blatant desires in the slightest. Yet, to be frank, I do not dislike those whose inner and outer selves align as thine do. Compared with believers who speak only of devotion while harboring ulterior motives, thou seemest... far more genuine."

She paused, a rare trace of humanlike regret slipping into her voice:

"Unfortunately, it is a great pity."

"I have been cut off from the system of faith for too long. My divine power has waned, and my Divine Core is incomplete."

"Maintaining this manifestation is already a strain. Changing forms, particularly into the sort of... energy-intensive form thou desirest, is beyond me for the moment.

"I can only disappoint thee."

"Tch. Of course it follows that trope too." Greg curled his lip and lowered his hand, his face plainly saying, I knew it.

Thanks to his knowledge of the original work's setting, he knew very well that the gods of this world depended heavily on faith to anchor and sustain their power.

For an ancient deity like the Goddess of Night, who had vanished for centuries and whose faith had all but died out, retaining a sliver of consciousness and finding him was already a miracle. Expecting her to immediately display the splendor of a goddess at her peak really was nothing more than a pipe dream.

He sighed, accepted this cruel reality, and continued his questioning:

"Second question: you said we share one Divine Core? So what... does that make me now? The God of Night? A trainee god of darkness? A partner in a Divine Core-sharing arrangement? Surely you aren't going to call me some night-themed gender freak?!"

He was highly wary of whatever bizarre title he might receive.

"It is merely a designation. There is truly no need to concern thyself so much."

Nightmare sounded quite casual. "However, according to ancient custom, beings such as thee, deeply bound to a Divine Core yet retaining an independent will and form, seem to be collectively called—Divine Humans."

"Divine Human?" The corner of Greg's mouth twitched. "You're a Divine Human! Your whole family's Divine Humans!"

He rejected the title without hesitation. It sounded like an insult.

Nightmare seemed unbothered by his fierce reaction and tilted her head.

"It seems thou dost not favor this designation. No matter. Titles can be changed."

She considered for a moment, then spoke in her ethereal voice. "Then I shall bestow one of my own titles upon thee. From this moment forth, I permit thee to call thyself the 'Dark Night King.'"

"Yeah, that one's pretty good. I like it." Greg nodded.

"I truly cannot understand why you humans care so much about these useless names." Nightmare shook her head.

Greg said, "Whose fault do you think it is that all I can do now is find some joy in my misery?"

Nightmare assumed an elegant air of having nothing to do with the matter, licked her paw, and pretended to study the patterns on the cave wall.

"Ah..." Greg heaved a long, resigned sigh, knowing there was no point in bickering with this black cat.

He sat up straight, his expression turning serious again, even acquiring a hint of sharpness.

"All right, we're done with the appetizer. Time for the main course. Third question, and the most important one."

He took a deep breath. The cave's cool, damp air filled his chest, clearing the thoughts that the string of shocks had left somewhat tangled.

His amber eyes fixed on the mysterious black cat before him as he voiced the central question that had lingered in his heart ever since she told him they were bound together:

"You're a goddess. However far you've fallen, couldn't you have bound yourself to a dying hero, a despairing sage, a prince bent on revenge, or someone like that?"

"But why did you choose me?"