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

Within the ancient ruins, Francis darted swiftly through a field of floating rubble.

As the first one to enter the site, he had immediately received a terrain map from Headmaster Gayle, showing Isabella’s location. That map had become his guiding star through the maze-like environment.

At the moment, he had altered the gravitational field around him to the lightest level his body could tolerate.

That was why the rubble on the ground was oddly suspended in midair—an eerie sight to anyone unfamiliar with gravity magic.

Francis stepped forward lightly and launched several meters in a single stride. His control over gravity was so intuitive that it had practically become a reflex engraved into his very bones.

“Where is she… Where is she?!” he muttered between breaths, sweat beading on his forehead—a reflection of his growing anxiety.

After all, he had been the one to volunteer for this mission—to find Isabella and ensure her safety. Until she was out of this ruin and safe, there wasn’t a second he could afford to waste.

On top of that, what worried him more than the ruin’s traps was Alan’s mental state.

Francis couldn’t help but picture the worst. What if they never found Isabella? What if Alan lost control again? Would he spiral into a lifelong madness? Would he end up a raving lunatic, locked away in some asylum, forgotten by the world?

“Stop it, focus!” Francis shook his head vigorously, throwing away those dark thoughts.

Finally, he reached the section of the jungle marked on the map—the place Isabella was last located.

But the instant he stepped into the forest, unease gripped him.

The rainforest was unnaturally silent. There wasn’t a trace of birdsong, no insect hum, no rustling of leaves. Just an eerie stillness that pressed in on all sides.

“Something’s wrong. It’s an ambush!”

The realization struck him like lightning. Francis tensed, then sprang into the air like a coiled spring.

At that exact moment, several massive vines erupted from the undergrowth, twisting like monstrous tentacles, shooting straight for him.

But Francis didn’t panic.

With a fluid motion, he pulled out the enchanted apple given to him by the old woman earlier. Then, with a flick of his will, he intensified the gravity around him.

The vines writhing in midair were abruptly yanked downward, slamming into the earth with immense force, the ground shaking beneath their weight.

Maintaining the high-gravity field to suppress the vines, Francis adjusted the pressure on himself, reverting to low gravity to land gently. He followed the trail of the vines, tracing their origin to the attacker responsible.

He found the culprit crouched inside a hollow at the base of a tree, barely a meter tall.

The attacker’s skin was an unhealthy, putrid green. His ears and nose were sharply pointed, and his eyes glowed with a sickly, festering yellow hue—completely inhuman. It was no exaggeration to say… he looked more goblin than man.

Francis nearly gagged at the sight. Was this even a human? The creature in front of him looked like it had crawled out of some disease-ridden swamp.

The goblin-like attacker was clearly startled—though not by being discovered.

Instead, he looked at Francis with mild confusion. “You’re… you’re not that Alan guy from the bounty!”

“Cut the crap!”

Francis launched a vicious kick, slamming his foot directly into the goblin’s face.

“Where is Isabella?!” he shouted, rage burning in his eyes. “Tell me, or I’ll break every last one of your rotten teeth!”

“P-please! Mercy! Don’t kill me!”

The goblin-like figure trembled visibly, revealing a rather cowardly core. After just a few threats, he gave in.

With a shaky finger, he pointed upward—toward the treetop above his hiding place.

Francis followed the direction, his gaze slowly lifting—and then his heart nearly stopped.

Tied high up on the tree trunk was Isabella, bound tightly in thick vines. Her limbs hung limp, her pale face devoid of color. She had clearly lost consciousness.

Rage surged through Francis’s veins.

He raised his leg again, ready to stomp the goblin into the dirt.

But before he could land another blow, the goblin suddenly smirked.

With a twist of his body, he let out a guttural chuckle—and then vanished, dragged underground by a vine that burst from the soil and yanked him out of sight.

Francis didn’t pursue him. He had more pressing concerns.

He adjusted his gravity field again, switching back to low-gravity mode, and with a burst of speed, he shot up toward the treetop like a balloon filled with helium.

In mere seconds, he reached Isabella’s side.

But just as he was about to cut her free—

Whoosh!

A blade sliced through the air.

A gleaming dagger shot out from the shadows, aiming straight for Francis’s vital organs.

He reacted instantly, shifting his gravity field back to high-pressure mode.

The dagger’s trajectory veered sharply, embedding itself in the tree trunk mere inches below his ribs.

Wasting no time, Francis shielded Isabella with his left arm while his right hand reached behind and grabbed a stone he had hidden earlier.

With a fierce snarl, he smashed it backward with full force.

Crack!

A muffled groan echoed behind him. The hidden assailant had taken the hit squarely to the arm and stumbled backward.

Francis wasn’t done.

With one foot braced against the tree, he launched himself forward. Low gravity gave him blistering speed—within a heartbeat, he was right on top of the attacker.

But just before he could land a finishing blow, a second figure emerged from the shadows.

A long sword sliced through the air, filled with deadly mana.

Francis had to abort his strike. Twisting midair, he planted a foot on the first attacker’s chest and used the rebound to fling himself out of range of the incoming blade.

Suddenly—

Thud!

A sharp pain burst through his back.

A shadow the size of a clenched fist had fallen from above, striking him dead center.

Francis cried out in pain, reaching back instinctively. He yanked it free and found a tri-bladed metal dart, gleaming ominously.

From above, a cold voice rang out.

Clinking metal echoed from the treetops, and a new figure revealed himself—a mage surrounded by intense metal-element mana.

He narrowed his eyes at Francis and growled, “He’s trying to save the girl. He’s not with us!”

The second attacker—the one wielding the long sword—spoke next, voice cold and precise. “Clearly you haven’t studied the bounty notice carefully. Our client made it very clear—aside from Alan, no student of Sirius Academy is to be spared.”

“And judging from this kid’s earlier moves, he’s most definitely from Sirius Academy.”

Now surrounded on all sides, Francis felt a wave of despair wash over him.

But more than fear, what filled his chest… was fury.

He pointed at Isabella, still tied to the tree trunk, and roared, “You heartless bastards! This is between us—men fighting men. Why drag an innocent girl into it?!”

“Don’t you have sisters? Daughters? How would you feel if one of them was strung up like this?”

His voice cracked with emotion.

“If it were your sister up there, would you still act this soulless?!”

“Silence!” snapped the sword-wielder, his face dark with rage.

“We do have family,” he growled. “But none of our brothers are named Alan—the kind of reckless bastard who drags everyone around him into chaos.”

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