Chapter 7 – The God of Marble and Obsidian

I had to get away from my own room.

The silence was getting loud, and my brain kept replaying the deeply weird training session with Sakura. I needed a walk. Normal people took walks. I slid open the shoji screen and stepped out into the crisp morning air, hoping for a few minutes of boring, uncomplicated peace.

This was a mistake.

The main path that wound through our mountain village was, to my growing horror, becoming a kind of open-air museum. And I was the sole exhibit. On my right, the Radiant Path had been busy. A statue of me, carved from pristine white marble, showed me gently stroking a fawn. My expression was serene, my eyes full of a gentle wisdom I have never possessed in my entire life, first or second. A few feet down, another one depicted me teaching a group of smiling children, my hand raised in a gesture of patient explanation.

I felt a hot flush of embarrassment crawl up my neck.

Seda’s followers, the Radiant Path, saw me as some kind of messiah. Their statues were all about salvation and gentle light. They were beautifully made, incredibly detailed, and made me want to dig a hole and hide in it forever. They captured a version of me that was pure, benevolent, and frankly, a total fantasy.

It was the statues on the left that gave me legit chills.

Elizabeth’s Ashen Guard had a completely different artistic vision. Their medium was black obsidian, polished to a mirror shine that seemed to swallow the light. One statue was of me standing over the corpse of a demon I had definitely never fought. My jaw was set in a hard line, my eyes cold and merciless. Another showed me forging a sword, my muscles bulging comically, my face twisted in a snarl of furious concentration.

They saw me not as a savior, but as a divine executioner. A final judgment meant to purge the world below. Their statues were terrifying, brutal, and made me look like the final boss in a video game I had no interest in playing. Each step down this path was a fresh wave of secondhand cringe. I just wanted to be a normal guy, and my disciples had turned my front yard into a bizarre ideological war fought with hammers and chisels.

A new, massive shape loomed at the end of the path, covered by a huge, drab tarp.

Elizabeth and Seda were already there.

They stood on opposite sides of the covered monstrosity, a clear line of tension separating them and their respective followers. Elizabeth had her arms crossed, her jaw tight, her gaze fixed on the tarp as if she could burn a hole through it. Seda stood with her hands clasped before her, a serene, beatific smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The air between them crackled.

“It is a perfect representation of the Master’s divine grace.”

Seda’s voice was smooth as silk.

Elizabeth let out a short, sharp scoff, a sound like grinding rocks.

“Grace? The Master is a weapon. A divine judgment forged to protect this holy mountain from the filth below.”

Her eyes flicked to me, and for a second, the cold fury in them softened into something else. Something possessive and fiercely protective.

“This… softness you insist on is an insult to his true nature. It makes him look weak.”

Seda’s smile tightened, becoming a mask of pity.

“You see only a hammer, Elizabeth, because that is all you know. You are blind to the light. The Master is a shepherd for the lost souls of the underworld, not a butcher.”

She turned her gaze to me, her eyes shining with a feverish adoration that was just as scary as Elizabeth’s fury.

“He is meant to be worshipped, to have the world bend its knee not in fear, but in overwhelming love. My way ensures his glory.”

“My way ensures he doesn’t get a knife in the back!”

Elizabeth shot the words back, taking a step forward.

“Your ‘lost souls’ are vipers. They would see his compassion as a weakness to be exploited. My methods keep him safe.”

“He cannot be a beacon if you hide his light under a bushel of your brutish paranoia!”

“Better a hidden light than an extinguished one!”

They both fell silent, glaring at each other. I swear I could see sparks fly between them. They were arguing about me, but it felt like they were talking about two completely different, equally unhinged guys. I just wanted to go back to my room and watch the clouds.

Then, they both turned to me in perfect, terrifying unison. Their expressions shifted from rage at each other to a desperate, needy appeal directed at me.

“Master, tell her that my way is correct!”

Elizabeth’s voice was thick with conviction.

“Master, please.”

Seda’s voice dropped to a worshipful whisper.

“Enlighten her with your profound wisdom.”

I just stood there, trapped. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Saying anything would be like throwing gasoline on a fire.

Seda gave a sharp, regal nod to two of her disciples standing by the tarp.

“The time has come. Reveal the Master’s glory!”

I didn’t want to see it.

Two disciples grabbed the ropes and pulled. The massive canvas slid to the ground with a heavy whoosh. The morning sun glinted off acres of polished stone, and I felt my soul try to leave my body through my feet.

It was a monstrosity. A masterpiece of terrible compromise.

The statue was at least twenty feet tall, carved from a gaudy, gold-veined marble that screamed bad taste. It was me, sitting on an ornate, massive throne that looked like it had been decorated with the skulls of my enemies.

My statue-self was a bizarre hybrid of their two insane philosophies.

One hand rested on the hilt of a massive sword, the knuckles white, the arm tense and ready for violence. It was pure Ashen Guard, radiating menace. The other hand was held out, palm open, in a gesture of serene, gentle blessing. It was 100% Radiant Path, an invitation to the downtrodden.

The worst part was the face. The artist, clearly caught between two warring clients, had tried to do both. The result was a bizarre, constipated expression that was half-grimace, half-beatific smile. I looked like I was simultaneously forgiving their sins and plotting their painful demise.

Elizabeth and Seda stared at it, their chests puffed with pride.

“A perfect compromise!”

They said it in unison.

My brain just shut down. It was the single most mortifying thing I had ever seen in two lifetimes. This statue wasn’t just chuunibyou; this was chuunibyou that had achieved its final, god-like form and was now a threat to all sentient life.

I stared at the granite-and-gold catastrophe that wore my face.

I thought about the quiet dignity of the clouds. I thought about the simple pleasure of a nap. I thought about anything other than being here, in this moment, looking at this… thing.

I turned around and started walking back the way I came, my pace quickening with every step.

My peaceful afternoon was officially dead and buried under twenty tons of gilded marble.