LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 30: chp
Hecate awoke to the sensation of cold, dry earth beneath her. The vast expanse of barren land stretched endlessly, illuminated only by the light of countless stars scattered across a pitch-black sky. The air was eerily still, and the only sound was her own steady breathing. She sat up slowly, taking in her surroundings. Her head ached slightly, and as she rubbed her temple, fragmented memories came rushing back.
The ritual. She remembered stepping into the ceremonial space, shedding her clothes as part of the preparation. Now, as she glanced down, she realized she was still unclothed. The thought crossed her mind briefly, but it didn't bother her. Modesty was hardly her concern right now; survival was.
Just as she was about to rise and explore her surroundings, a deep, otherworldly voice cut through the silence.
"Greetings, Esteemed Guest. The Lord is waiting. Please, follow me."
Startled, Hecate whipped around to locate the source of the voice. Her instincts kicked in, and she willed her magic to attack, her mind already visualizing an arcane strike. But nothing happened. Her magic—so reliable, so deeply woven into her being—was utterly inert.
"Your mortal magic does not work here," the voice said, calm yet authoritative.
A tall, cloaked figure emerged from the shadows, its form humanoid but unsettlingly alien. Its hands were unnaturally large, fingers elongated and tipped with razor-sharp, pointed nails. When she focused on its face—or what should have been its face—she recoiled slightly. Its features were grotesque: hollow cheeks, sharp, angular lines, and teeth like daggers. Most unnerving of all was the absence of a nose, giving the face a skeletal, predatory appearance.
"Here," it said, extending an impossibly large hand. "A gift from the Lord."
In its hand was a box, ornate and mysterious, with a sheen that reflected the starlight above. Hesitant, Hecate reached out and took it. The box was surprisingly light, and as she lifted the lid, she found a stunning dress within.
The dress was otherworldly. Its fabric shimmered like liquid night, adorned with gems that sparkled like constellations in the sky. It was elegant yet powerful, designed to command attention. Without hesitation, Hecate slipped it on. To her surprise, it fit perfectly, as if it had been crafted specifically for her. The fabric clung to her form with a weightless grace, and for a fleeting moment, she felt a sense of comfort in the alien surroundings.
She turned to the figure, her eyes narrowing as she demanded, "Where am I? And who are you?"
"You are in the Underworld," the figure replied, its tone devoid of emotion. "I am a Grim Reaper."
Hecate's heart skipped a beat. "The Underworld? Why am I here? Did I… die?"
"No," the Grim Reaper answered. "You are not dead. You are here as a guest. The Lord brought you here. Now, please, follow me."
Hecate hesitated, her mind racing with questions and potential escape plans. She didn't trust this situation—not in the slightest. But without her magic and with no understanding of her current predicament, she was in no position to defy the Grim Reaper. Reluctantly, she nodded and followed, her senses on high alert.
As they walked, the vast emptiness around them seemed to stretch even further, amplifying the oppressive silence. Hecate's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden voice in her head—cold, mechanical, and unfeeling.
[Lesson number 1: If you are in a constellation's domain, mortal magic or energy does not work. Only constellations of the corresponding energy type can use their abilities in their domain.]
Hecate froze momentarily. A constellation's domain?
'So what can I do?!' she asked in her mind, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
[In your case, your constellation status is not yet confirmed, but based on available data, it is highly likely that you are a Constellation of Stories. This type of constellation is exceedingly rare and possesses vast potential. However, many constellations view them with suspicion or disdain. It is highly recommended that you do not disclose your nature as a Story Constellation or reveal your method of ascension.]
The information was overwhelming, but one detail stood out. if she revealed her nature , she might gets targeted. how rare is this type of constellation to be hunted down by such powerful beings?!
[As a Story Constellation, you can access the power of the stories you have recorded or embodied. For now, one has been applied automatically.]
[Applying Main Story: 1 – Goddess of War / Mother of Dragons / Valkyrie (Mid-Myth Grade)]
[Lesson number 2: A constellation cannot harm another constellation if they are a guest in their domain.]
Hecate's breath hitched. 'But I'm not a constellation yet!'
There was a brief, awkward silence before the voice responded. [...True. However, this information will be useful when you ascend. Until then, be prepared. Good luck.]
'Fantastic,' she thought bitterly, her sarcasm masking the growing unease in her chest.
The Grim Reaper stopped abruptly, gesturing toward an ornate, towering gate that had appeared out of nowhere. "Through here," it said, its voice devoid of any warmth or malice, as if it were merely stating a fact.
Hecate squared her shoulders, her mind still racing for answers. Whatever lay ahead, she knew she would need every ounce of her wit, cunning, and the strange new power hinted at by the system. With a deep breath, she stepped forward, ready—or as ready as she could be—to face the unknown.
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Hecate stepped through the towering gate, bracing herself for the fiery pits or endless shadows she had always associated with tales of the Underworld. Instead, she was greeted by something entirely different—an empty, monochrome city. The buildings were tall and imposing, their surfaces a mix of matte black, stark white, and muted gray. The streets were eerily silent, devoid of life or sound. The air carried a heavy stillness, as though the entire city held its breath.
The roads were perfectly paved, the lines between the stones unnaturally straight, and the symmetry of the city unnerved her. There were no signs of wear or decay, no plants growing through cracks, no evidence of anyone having lived there. Even the shadows seemed unnatural, stretching and bending in ways that defied logic. It was beautiful in its starkness, but also deeply unsettling.
As Hecate followed the Grim Reaper through the silent streets, her eyes were drawn to the skyscrapers. They loomed overhead, their glass windows reflecting the dim light of the gray sky. Unlike the chaotic vibrancy of cities in the mortal world, this one seemed too perfect, too deliberate, as though every structure had been placed with meticulous intent. The entire city was a frozen masterpiece, devoid of the chaos that made cities feel alive.
They stopped in front of the tallest skyscraper, a behemoth of a building that seemed to pierce the heavens above. Its design was unlike any Hecate had ever seen, a mix of geometric precision and artistic abstraction. The base was a solid black, with veins of glowing silver running up its length like cracks in the fabric of reality. As her eyes traveled upward, the building shifted in shades of white and gray, giving it an almost ethereal quality.
Above the massive entrance, carved into the black stone in gleaming silver letters, were the words:
"Here dwells the silence that neither lives nor dies."
The words sent a shiver down Hecate's spine. She didn't know what she had expected, but this ominous inscription only deepened the mystery of the place. Silence that neither lives nor dies? What does that mean?
The Grim Reaper gestured toward the entrance, his voice as flat and emotionless as ever. "This is where I stop. You go. Highest floor."
Hecate turned to him, her piercing glare questioning him once again. The Grim Reaper didn't flinch, standing as still as a statue, his skeletal face impassive. After a moment, Hecate sighed, muttering, "Fine." She stepped toward the door, its smooth, black surface parting soundlessly to let her in.
The lobby was as empty and monochrome as the city outside. The floor was a pristine white, polished to a mirror-like shine, while the walls were a deep gray, devoid of any decoration. A single elevator stood at the far end, its silver doors reflecting the room with an almost surreal clarity.
As Hecate stepped inside, she noticed there were no buttons to select floors—just a single one labeled with a glyph she didn't recognize. She hesitated for a moment, then pressed it. The elevator hummed softly as it began its ascent, the sensation unnervingly smooth, as though the lift wasn't moving at all.
The system's voice chimed in her mind again.
[Lesson number 3: Domains of constellations are expressions of their essence. What you see reflects the constellation you are meeting.]
So, silence is this Lord's essence? Hecate thought, her fingers brushing the fabric of her dress nervously. She was used to power games, veiled threats, and manipulation, but this... this was something else entirely.
The elevator continued its ascent, the smooth ride giving her far too much time to think. She glanced at her reflection in the silver walls, her dark dress glittering like the night sky. She looked composed on the surface, but her mind was racing.
What kind of "Lord" am I about to meet? she wondered, her hands clenching into fists. And what does he want with me?
As the elevator neared the top floor, the air grew heavier, almost as though the silence itself had weight. Hecate took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and steeled herself for whatever awaited her beyond those doors. This was a place unlike any she had encountered before, but she was Hecate Targaryen, and no "Lord of Silence" was going to see her falter.
As the elevator doors slid open, Hecate stepped forward cautiously. Her muscles tensed like a coiled spring, ready to flee or fight if the need arose. She could feel the heavy silence pressing in around her, almost palpable, as she crossed the threshold.
The space beyond was unlike anything she could have anticipated. It was vast yet intimate, and the air carried a strange serenity. A sea of lavender flowers stretched endlessly in every direction, their soft purple hues glowing faintly against the dim light of the sky above. The ground beneath her feet was spongy, as though alive, and her footsteps made no sound as she moved forward. The scent of lavender was overwhelming—calming and suffocating at once.
At the heart of this strange expanse lay a silhouette cloaked in darkness. The figure was crouched low, its black garments blending seamlessly with the shadows, but two unmistakable horns jutted out from either side of its head. The being's posture was oddly relaxed, its veiled face turned downward, as if examining the flowers with a care that belied its ominous presence.
Hecate stopped about five feet away, her voice steady despite the tension in her body. "Why did you bring me here? What do you want?"
At her words, the figure chuckled—a sound both alien and resonant. It wasn't a laugh meant to mock; instead, it seemed genuinely amused. The sound rippled through the lavender field, making the flowers sway as though responding to the vibrations.
The figure shifted, lowering itself into a seated position amidst the flowers. With a gesture, it invited Hecate to join it. The invitation was silent, yet it held an unspoken weight. Reluctant but intrigued, Hecate sat down a short distance away, her curiosity beginning to outweigh her fear.
A voice echoed in her mind, smooth and inhuman. It didn't speak aloud but resonated directly within her thoughts.
The voice carried a tone of politeness that felt at odds with the situation, as though they were engaging in small talk.
Hecate raised an eyebrow, her sarcasm quick to surface. "How cliché. Wow, really? . So, tell me—why did you bring me here?"
The figure laughed again, its mirth both unsettling and strangely infectious.
"No."
"Well, I might have a few guesses, but nothing's certain, really." Hecate's voice was deliberately casual, though her posture remained tense.
As the figure spoke, its voice grew deeper, and the serene lavender field seemed to darken. A crushing pressure bore down on Hecate, forcing her to grit her teeth as though her very soul was being compelled to bow before this entity.
"W-why did you bring me here?" she repeated, her words strained under the weight.
the figure explained.
"And so what?" Hecate hissed, fighting against the pressure.
The figure's tone shifted slightly, a mix of pride and frustration.
"I'm not a death constellation," Hecate said firmly, though her voice faltered slightly.
Hecate averted her gaze, her hands clenching the fabric of her dress. "I don't know. I just know that I'm not that."
The figure's presence loomed larger, though it never moved.
Hecate stayed silent, her mind racing. The weight of the Death God's words pressed on her, but so did her own stubborn refusal to accept what she didn't yet understand. If death truly was part of her potential, what did that mean for her story? For her place in the cosmos?
The lavender flowers swayed gently in the stillness, as though they too were waiting for her to decide.
Hecate's sharp gaze lingered on the Death God as he spoke.
Hecate furrowed her brow, recalling faint, translucent figures she had seen before—silent, lingering presences in places like Diagon Alley or the old corridors of Hogwarts. "Ah yes, I know a few," she replied, her tone cautious.
The Death God nodded subtly, his dark horns casting long shadows over the lavender field.
"An archivist?" Hecate asked skeptically, her voice laced with curiosity, even though she knew it wasn't the truth she had to carry on the misunderstanding. she's the princess of lies and Deception after all .
Hecate tilted her head, considering his words. "Is that so?"
The air grew still for a moment before he continued.
"Huh, no thank you. I don't need help," Hecate replied, her tone firm but wary. She didn't trust this entity enough to share her methods, no matter how much power he claimed to wield.
The Death God chuckled, the sound reverberating across the field.
Hecate stiffened, her eyes narrowing. "H-how did you know that I was traveling through worlds?"
"I—" Hecate began but was quickly interrupted.
His tone was calm, almost nonchalant, but the demand carried an unmistakable gravity. Hecate's mind raced as she considered the implications. Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, the famed alchemists who had unlocked the secrets of immortality—what interest could the Death God possibly have in them?
Still, she didn't flinch or hesitate. to hell with them , as long as she benefited from it . "Deal. But you'll have to wait for me to get the chance."
The Death God's lips curled into what might have been a smile beneath his veil.
Raising his hand, he flicked her forehead lightly with an otherworldly finger. The simple gesture carried a strange warmth and weight, like a scolding from a stern yet oddly caring mentor.
Hecate barely had time to process his words before the field of lavender dissolved around her. The scents, the light, the weight of his presence—all of it vanished in an instant.
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