Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

"Tell me everything—what exactly happened?"

Daniel's voice was calm but firm as he fixed his gaze on Randy.

Randy nodded weakly, a mixture of exhaustion and relief flickering across his face. In a halting voice, he began to recount his story, one that spanned thousands of years.

A long time ago, Randy had been a minor member of a powerful family, an

affiliate child

with dismal magical potential.

While others in his family awakened their

magic patterns

with ease and excelled in mastering complex spells, Randy remained an ordinary individual, unable to harness even the simplest magic.

Resigned to his fate, Randy spent his days doing menial tasks, occasionally daydreaming about the day he might awaken his magic pattern and become a powerful mage.

If fate had left him alone, Randy's life would have been brief and unremarkable.

But one day, his life took a dramatic turn.

A seemingly minor dispute caught the attention of a

main branch descendant

, someone who began to harbor a grudge against Randy.

This descendant subjected him to relentless bullying, making multiple attempts to expel him from the family.

Despite the abuse, Randy endured, knowing he lacked the power to fight back.

Then came the day when the grudge turned deadly.

While traveling outside the family estate, Randy was ambushed.

The main branch descendant sought to end Randy's life.

Cornered and desperate, Randy jumped into a raging river, preferring to take his chances with the current rather than face certain death.

By some miracle, he survived.

The river carried Randy to a mysterious, hidden place.

It was there that he encountered

the pen

, an artifact of immense power that would change his life forever.

The pen offered Randy the strength he had always dreamed of, granting him the ability to become a mage of unparalleled talent.

With its guidance, Randy rapidly ascended the ranks of magical power, returning to his family to exact vengeance.

The main branch descendant who had tormented him was swiftly and ruthlessly dealt with. The family, far from reprimanding Randy, celebrated his actions, elevating him to the position of head of the family.

For a time, Randy reveled in his newfound status.

But the responsibilities of leadership soon grew tiresome.

His true passion lay in pursuing greater magical power, so he abdicated his position and set out into the wider world.

As Randy's strength continued to grow, he began to glimpse the possibility of ascending to a higher plane—a threshold to a realm beyond this world.

But the pen warned him against it.

"Do not attempt to cross that threshold," it cautioned. "If you do, you will leave this world and enter a far more dangerous one. In that world, you will be powerless, as you once were, a mere insect crushed underfoot."

The pen's words resonated with Randy, dredging up memories of his powerless past.

Fearful of reliving such humiliation, he heeded the pen's warning and turned his focus back to this world.

Following the pen's guidance, Randy established

Karea Academy

, a bastion of magical learning and influence.

The academy became a means to gather resources and consolidate power, preparing Randy for the day he might safely step into the unknown realm.

For centuries, Randy worked tirelessly to expand Karea Academy's influence, drawing upon the pen's power to bolster his strength.

The pen assured him that when the time came to cross the threshold, it would ensure he retained his current position and authority in the new world.

But things were not as they seemed.

As the centuries passed, Randy began to notice an unsettling stagnation in his growth. Though he continued to draw upon the pen's power, his progress slowed to a crawl.

Frustrated, he once again expressed his desire to cross the threshold, hoping the new realm would provide the breakthrough he needed.

This time, the pen agreed—on one condition.

Randy would need to bind his soul more deeply to the pen.

"It is the only way I can continue to assist you in the new world," the pen claimed.

Trusting the pen implicitly, Randy agreed.

But the moment he deepened their bond, the pen revealed its true intentions.

It

seized control of Randy's body

, relegating his consciousness to a dormant state.

Randy realized, too late, that he had been deceived.

The pen had been siphoning the

world essence

it promised him, keeping the lion's share for itself while feeding him mere scraps.

Now, as a powerless observer trapped within his own body, Randy's once-bright ambitions faded into despair.

The pen manipulated his body as it saw fit, using his identity to further its own agenda.

For centuries, Randy remained a prisoner, his consciousness locked away in a dark corner of his mind. His memories grew hazy, his identity slipping away.

Only his burning hatred for the pen kept his mind intact, a single thread anchoring him to existence.

If not for Daniel, Randy's consciousness would have eventually faded into nothingness.

As Randy's story concluded, his voice trembled with a mixture of grief and gratitude.

"Thank you, sir. If not for you, I would have been erased completely."

Daniel regarded him silently, considering the weight of the man's words.

"Are there others like you?" Daniel asked after a pause. "How many in Middle Earth have been consumed by artifacts like that pen?"

Randy hesitated before responding. "I… don't know the exact number. But I can tell you this: such artifacts are far more common than people realize. Many are drawn to their promises of power, unaware of the price."

He glanced at Daniel nervously, then added, "Sir, are you… the wielder of another divine artifact?"

Daniel didn't respond to the question directly. Instead, he said,

"Take me to the place where the pen stored the essence it stole."

Randy nodded, shakily rising to his feet. He led Daniel to a small house within the

secret realm

, where the stolen

Source of World

was stored.

The essence glimmered faintly, a powerful reminder of what had been taken from the world.

Daniel retrieved a

Tree of Origin

from his storage and planted it in the secret realm.

As the sapling took root, its vibrant energy filled the air, and Randy's eyes widened in recognition.

"Tree of Origin!" he exclaimed. "Sir… are you an oracle? Are you here to save the world?"

The pen had once spoken of oracles—fanatics who sought to plant Trees of Origin across the world, a supposed act of destruction.

But now Randy understood the truth. These oracles weren't destroyers—they were saviors.

Daniel nodded.

"Yes. This world is on the brink of collapse because of beings like the pen. To restore balance, these trees must be planted."

Randy fell to his knees.

"Sir, I wish to help you! I've been a victim of these relics for too long. Let me make amends. Allow me to assist you in saving this world!"

Daniel studied the man for a moment before responding.

"Very well. Stand up. If you're serious about making amends, there's work to do."

Relief and determination shone in Randy's eyes as he rose.

"One more thing," Daniel said. "Are there many others like you—those controlled by artifacts—in this world?"

Randy's face grew grim.

"Far too many."