1 God has been watching you!

On top of a hill, a lone figure, Marc, a young knight with a mop of dark hair and tired eyes, sat silently atop a colossal rock beside a towering stone structure. At his side lay a once-magnificent helmet, weathered by countless battles. With excellent precision, he sharpened a sword in his right hand, his left supporting the effort. Before him, a cup of wine stood, not just any wine, but a vintage fit for royalty.

In a moment of self reflection, Marc decided to savor the excellence of the drink, foreseeing the uncertainty ahead. He raised the cup to his lips, and as the rich liquid touched his tongue, his eyes sparkled.

"Hmm," he murmured, a small smile spreading across his face. "Yes! I expected nothing less. No wonder the nobles pay that much for this wine. Hahaha!"

The cup emptied in one go, placed on the ground as Marc gazed into the sky.

"I wonder... is the prince alright? Did he manage to flee the capital?"

With a heavy heart, Marc stood, his eyes betraying a mix of regret and sorrow. Suddenly, a fit of coughing seized him.

"Chough, chough, chough," he rasped, revealing a bloodied hand. Instead of terror, laughter escaped him.

"Hahaha, damn! Without this, I could have died by the side of my king. Instead, I'm at an abandoned tower protecting the princess!"

A grim expression took over. "I should be dead... my kingdom is dying."

Tears welled in his eyes. "It would have been an honor to die by your side, my king! I still remember the day you gave me my sword and declared me a protector of the royal family..."

"But," he declared, resolve firm, "I will protect her. I will protect your daughter one last time! Two guards are already running away from the tower to hide her!"

Turning, Marc grapped his helmet, preparing for the impending doom. In the distance, a group of soldiers approached on horseback, undoubtedly hunting the princess.

As they neared, Marc took a deep breath. "I will follow you in the afterlife, my king. I shall die as my vow commands!"

With determination etched on his face, he waited. Moments passed, and they arrived—a few meters away, a soldier atop his steed spoke.

"Marc Darkwood, your king is dead, your kingdom is destroyed. Bow before your new king, and you shall live!"

Marc lifted his head, locking eyes with the guard. "My king is dead, and I shall follow him soon enough. Turn around and live a happy life in your new world, or I will sentence you to death in honor of my old world."

Laughter echoed from the soldiers. "Hahaha! Just stop it. Your king is dead, the crown prince is crushed under rubble! The kingdom is no more!"

A menacing grin formed on a scar-faced soldier. "We know you're here to protect the princess. We will slaughter her. Haha! We will gouge her eyes out!"

Marc's face turned cold as he drew his sword, aiming it at the group. "I, Marc Darkwood, sentence you to death in the name of my king!"

With that declaration, he charged forward, swift and lethal. A sword plunged into the first soldier's eye, ending him instantly. The group dismounted, but before the first could touch the ground, Marc's sword found him.

He danced among them, evading every attack. Three more fell, lifeless, before the remaining men closed in.

Marc took a deep breath. "That's it. I'm coming, my king!"

His eyes locked onto the scar-faced man. Marc rushed forward, effortlessly evading their attacks. Without a hint of fear, he severed the scar-faced soldier's head from his shoulders. However, a sharp pain stabbed his back, and he glanced down to see a sword emerging from his chest.

Blood splattered, and Marc sank to one knee, his gaze fixed on the sky. "My king, it is time. I'm coming." With this declaration, he fell to the ground, and life vanished from his eyes.

As darkness enveloped him, the chilling embrace of death embraced Marc, only to be replaced by the ethereal strains of angelic singing that resonated in the void.

Gradually, he became aware of his surroundings, his consciousness emerging from the shadows. "What... what is this? It's so incredibly beautiful," Marc murmured, his senses awakening. Rising slowly, he felt a newfound lightness, as if his body had transformed into a feather, and the familiar tendrils of pain that had once gripped him were conspicuously absent.

Two radiant angels descended gracefully towards Marc. With divine grace, they gently clasped his arms and effortlessly lifted him from the earthly realm.

Than a thirt descended. Marc found himself gazing into the eyes of this extraordinary angel, mesmerized by the sheer splendor before him.

This celestial being, adorned with large, white wings, possessed a crown of resplendent beauty. His dark hair flew in the wind like a silken waterfall, and his eyes, a captivating shade of red, radiated warmth and wisdom. The angel's beauty was nothing short of extraordinary, his features sculpted in a manner that transcended earthly notions of beauty, rendering him unbelievably handsome.

Marc lifted his head and looked the angel in his eyes "Who.. just who are you?"

The angel met Marc's gaze unwaveringly. "I am Michael, a divine emissary sent to bestow upon you a celestial gift, given to you from our god."

he formed a gentle smile. "We've been vigilant observers of your journey, recognizing the profound honor that marks your character. In acknowledgment of your virtuous deeds, our God has elected to grace you with a momentous reward."

"you have been chosen to ascend as a new god, entrusted with the governance of a new world," the angel proclaimed, his words resonating with a weighty significance.

Marc chouldnt believe his what he heared chould this really be possible?!