Joe looked forward once more.
The great Moistria Semenara floated down—her radiant form descending with grace until her beautiful feet gently touched the ground. She walked toward him, each step like a ripple through sacred air.
"Is there anything else you wish to say?" Moistria asked.
Joe smiled and took a confident step forward.
"Let me make this feel like the opening of an epic saga," he said.
Moistria hadn't yet connected fully to Joe's thoughts, so she simply smiled at the vague declaration.
"Do as you like. You'll be sent to the land of Cumbria very soon," she said softly.
"Ahhm..." Joe cleared his throat.
He placed his right hand over his chest. He stood tall, the ornate cloak around his shoulders flaring in the divine wind.
"My Lady, Moistria Semenara, The First Who Cum, rightful owner of Cumbria... I, a random-ass human, will fix your mistake."
He smirked—but not foolishly. Not this time.
"There is gratitude in me—for you dared to make a divine pact."
The wind howled louder.
Joe released his hand from his chest, spreading both arms as if preparing to take flight.
"Send me. Let me help the land you love—the mankind born from your holy fluid.
Let me align the trajectory of love… toward its rightful destination."
He inhaled deeply.
"And let me…" —a crooked grin curved on his lips—"make the cream fall to the right pudding."
Moistria chuckled gently. Her head tilted forward with amused curiosity.
"And you are?"
Joe exhaled, eyes blinking slowly. "The..." His hand returned to his chest as he bowed slowly with noble grace.
"...Raspudding."
"Raise your head…" Moistria stepped closer.
She stood before him—Joe tall, his posture unwavering.
Moistria lifted her hand, gently touching his chin with her index finger to tilt his face upward.
"Hearing you call me 'my lady'... feels oddly strange," she said with a chuckle.
"Hm?" Joe frowned, then slowly smiled.
"Oh… should I call you 'goddesses' instead? Or maybe…" he lifted his chin. "Goddamn, perhaps?" he grinned— "Hahaha..."
Moistria laughed with him. "I'll forgive you this time."
Her laughter softened. Her hand slid to Joe's chest.
"Next time, you'll be the damn," she whispered.
"Now go. Bring enlightenment. Use all I have granted… for the sake of Cumbria's people."
With a gentle nudge—Push!—she sent him flying.
But the force—though light—propelled Joe backward through the air.
His body floated as gravity pulled him downward, toward the world of Cumbria.
He smiled—with no trace of doubt.
"A fair reward… even if this will be a strange journey."
He shifted midair, turning from a backward fall into a forward dive.
"The wind?" he muttered, eyes narrowing.
Ahead of him shimmered a faint, transparent barrier—holding back the wind that now rushed to greet him.
The transparent barrier shimmered a few meters ahead—silent, unmoving, almost like it was waiting.
Joe squinted.
It wasn't touching him. Not yet. It hovered just beyond reach… like the calm before a slap.
Then—
~Cling!~
A high-pitched chime rang out—soft, celestial, but sharp enough to slice through Joe's focus.
A scroll appeared out of thin air. Floating. Glowing. Unrolling itself like it had been rehearsing this entrance for millennia.
Words glimmered across its golden parchment in divine script.
~My Master…~
The voice came from the scroll—soft and lovely, yet somehow androgynous. It felt like the whisper of an angel and the sigh of a god rolled into one.
Joe blinked. "...Master?"
The scroll glowed brighter, responding without hesitation.
~I am the Edict Scroll. Sacred Companion of Heaven. Herald of Your Divine Orders. The First of the Six Celestial Instruments gifted by the Mother of Cumbria's Skies.~
Joe stared. "A... talking paper?"
The scroll rotated slightly, as if offended.
~I am the Sacred Scroll of Edict. Not paper. Not parchment. I am the living contract between You and the Will of Moistria.~
Joe sighed.
~Read the Muscle Verse to keep you safe when landing on the ground.~
Before Joe could throw another sarcastic line, new letters began burning into the scroll's center—glowing red, bold, heavy.
The air itself seemed to tense.
The wind held its breath.
A verse formed.
Joe raised an eyebrow. "...Okay. This is really petty revenge for calling her Goddamn."
He glanced at the barrier—still waiting.
No more talk. No hesitation.
Joe narrowed his eyes. He inhaled once.
Then read.
"This form, no gym could recreate,
Its power blooms from random fate.
Were I on Earth, I'd flex all day,
Join wrestling leagues, then walk away."