For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the page turned by itself.
The sharp, elegant script bled to the surface in its detached, clinical strokes.
The God of Death is the bearer of the Authority of Death, one of the Twelve Divine Authorities.
More writing slowly appeared.
The Twelve Authorities form the foundation of the divine order. Each governs an aspect of existence and maintains the laws associated with its domain.
Among them, the Authority of Death governs the passage from life to death, the departure of souls, and the boundary separating the living from the dead.
’Authority of Death?’
The Grim Reaper had told him that he could inherit it.
Why?
If the God of Death was still alive, inheriting his authority would be impossible. Unless...
Is the God of Death dead?
The parchment absorbed the glowing black blood. Finally, the sharp ink bled through the surface.
The God of Death remains in existence. However, his connection to the Authority has been severed.
The Authority of Death currently has no bearer. The Underworld, as well as Hell, is currently being managed by one of his advisors.
An Authority is not inseparable from its bearer. Though a god may continue to exist, the loss of their Authority renders them incapable of exercising its full dominion.
’A vacant throne?’
And what happened that separated the God of Death from his authority?
The room remained silent for several long seconds before the ink finally started.
The circumstances surrounding the severance of the previous bearer’s Authority are not recorded within the accessible archives.
"Figures."
He slowly withdrew his hand, letting his gaze wander around the room.
The Divine Authority was separated from its god, yet it wasn’t recorded in the book.
That was either a deliberate restriction or a disturbing limitation, and there was no way to tell which.
His gaze returned to the parchment.
But there was still something he didn’t quite understand.
The Reaper had called him the Son of Death. He had even mentioned the blood of the God of Death running through his veins.
How was that possible?
The Visconti family were in no way related to the God of Death. They didn’t even worship him; they worshiped Goddess Minervia.
The Goddess of Wisdom was the patron of his entire house. Their rituals, their clan artifacts, and even the curse currently eating his soul all originated from her. No one in the family had ever awakened the Death Affinity before Virgil.
Why would a family entirely devoted to her possess the dormant bloodline of an entirely different god?
He pressed his bleeding finger against the page and began writing.
And why does the Visconti bloodline carry the inheritance of the God of Death when the family worships Minervia?
The paper absorbed the glowing black blood.
The Visconti family does not descend from the God of Death, nor does its established lineage possess any recorded connection to his divine bloodline.
He paused at the answer.
He lowered his finger again.
How do I possess the bloodline of the God of Death?
The Archive didn’t answer immediately.
Only those who descend from holders of the Authority of Death can possess the Bloodline of Death. The current holder of the Archive, Virgilius, and his twin brother, Dante, are the direct sons of the God of Death.
His breath hitched for a moment.
’...What?’
He read the sentence again.
Then a third time.
Are you certain?
The answer came as quickly as lightning.
Yes.
His gaze hung on the page.
Dante and his brother were actually Sons of Death.
’This wasn’t explained in the novel.’
The novel he believed he had transmigrated into barely touched on the subject of gods. They were described as immortal, all-powerful beings.
But now he had found out that both he and the protagonist were directly involved with a god.
What else can you tell me about my father?
The ink slowly emerged.
No further information regarding your parentage is recorded within the accessible archives.
He leaned back into his chair.
The knowledge that his real father was a god left him with an unfamiliar feeling in his chest. Virgil had spent his life trying to live up to someone he thought was his father. The realization stirred conflicting emotions he couldn’t explain.
It wasn’t just any god, either. It was the God of Death.
Yet Dante had never awakened the Death Affinity, and Virgil could barely access his own. Worse, he was planning to claim an Authority he couldn’t even reach.
If we both carry the seed, why doesn’t Dante have a Death Affinity, and why can I not properly awaken mine?
The ink rose in clinical, absolute strokes.
Divine lineage does not guarantee the awakening of its associated affinity.
Virgil frowned.
The blood of a god may be inherited, but the power within it does not necessarily awaken alongside it. Lineage establishes a connection to a divine source. It does not guarantee access to that source.
There are recorded instances of divine descendants who have failed to awaken their ancestral affinities. There are also instances of such affinities awakening later in their lives.
He stared at the words, the sharp ink gleaming against the cream-colored pages.
It made logical sense, but a gnawing contradiction immediately surfaced in his mind. That wasn’t the truth of Virgil’s whole past.
He hadn’t been born empty. When Virgil was a young child, he had awakened affinities. That was how he knew.
Virgil’s perceived lack of talent wasn’t a defect. It was the exact same way normal people awakened their affinities.
Shadow answered him. Lightning answered.
He tried calling out to Death, but it was silent. The affinity didn’t acknowledge his presence nor did it respond to his call.
What if someone awakened their affinities when they were younger, but they slowly faded until they became locked? Why would the person lose them?
The black blood spread across the page.
But this time, the ink did not begin to form with its usual swiftness.
The seconds dragged on as he waited. Finally, a few sparse words bled onto the surface.
No precedent exists within the Archive.
He frowned deeply, pressing his finger harder against the page.
Explain.
More writing emerged.
Once an affinity is awakened, the spiritual pathways are permanently established. The natural decay, fading, or locking of an awakened affinity without catastrophic soul trauma or direct divine severance contradicts the established laws of reality. The Archive holds no record of this phenomenon occurring before.
’Is there no hope for me?’ he wondered, his gaze lowering to his hands.
If the Archive couldn’t explain what had happened to him, then what chances did he have of fixing it?
’But then why would the Reaper allow me to take the succession trials?’
His fingers hovered over the book’s pages.
There was still one thing he hadn’t considered.
Is the Death Affinity required to claim the throne of the God of Death and the Authority of Death?
It didn’t even take a second before the ink began to appear.
Awakening an affinity is not a prerequisite for inheriting a Divine Authority, nor is it required to claim the throne of the Underworld.
He straightened in the chair as he read the words.
The inheritance of an Authority is distinct from the awakening of its associated affinity. The former concerns succession to a position within the divine order. The latter concerns an individual’s ability to access and manipulate an aspect of existence through mana.
Furthermore, there are many records of children of gods ascending to Godhood and claiming the throne despite possessing no affinities.
Virgil’s eyes widened slightly.
"So I don’t need it?" he muttered out loud.
He immediately pressed his finger against the page again.
What conditions must a legitimate successor fulfill to inherit the Authority of Death?
The ink swiftly emerged.
The transfer of a Divine Authority is governed by the conditions of its succession. Bloodline alone does not constitute inheritance, nor does eligibility guarantee that a candidate will successfully claim the Authority.
His expression tightened slightly as he read.
’Of course.’
Still, the answer hadn’t closed the door. It had just given him a reason to keep looking.
And what exactly happens when the son of a god inherits an Authori—
A freezing chill suddenly swept through the sanctuary, dropping the temperature to a biting frost in the fraction of a second.
Before he could even finish writing, a pale, gloved hand shot out from the periphery of his vision and slammed the heavy leather cover shut.
The violent thud echoed like a gunshot through the massive, empty room, nearly crushing Virgil’s fingers.
"I believe," a raspy voice said, sounding like dry leaves scraping over a tombstone, "you have exhausted your library privileges, Son of Death."