The light wasn't just bright; it was expensive.
It had the quality of molten gold, thick and suffocating, pressing against my lungs until I felt my knees tremble. Around me, the High Priest and the temple guards had collapsed like discarded puppets, their foreheads pressed against the cold marble.
"The Sun... the Sun speaks!" Malachi wailed, his voice muffled by the floor. "Mercy, Great Sol! Forgive this heretic! Forgive this woman of greed!"
I stood alone in the center of the hall, my vision swimming in white. My "Hedge Fund Poker Face" skill was screaming, the cooldown timer ticking away in red digits. I was one second away from being vaporized by a celestial being who clearly didn't understand the concept of a fair audit.
"MORTAL," the voice boomed, vibrating in my very marrow. "YOU SPEAK OF GOLD IN THE HOUSE OF THE INFINITE. YOU MEASURE THE DIVINE WITH THE TOOLS OF THE DUST. WHY SHOULD I NOT EXTINGUISH YOUR SPARK WHERE YOU STAND?"
I squinted into the light, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Because," I shouted, my voice cracking but firm, "you're suffering from a massive deficit in Faith Revenue, and you know it!"
The light flickered. The pressure on my chest eased, just a fraction.
"EXPLAIN YOURSELF."
I took a deep breath, reaching out into the air. "System," I whispered. "Give me the 'Divine Portfolio' view. Everything. No filters."
[System Prompt: Skill 'Sovereign's Audit' Overclocking...] [Warning: Attempting to audit a Tier-1 Deity.] [Success Rate: 1.2%] [Processing... Data Acquired.]
A new screen appeared, glowing with a deep, pulsating gold. It wasn't a list of coins. It was a graph of Faith Energy. And the line was crashing harder than the housing market in 2008.
"You call yourself the Infinite," I said, pointing a finger at the blinding center of the light. "But your 'followers' are dropping by fifteen percent every quarter. Your 'High Priest' is skimming seventy percent of the prayers for his own ego, and the common people? They aren't praying to you for guidance anymore. They're praying to you out of fear. And fear is a low-yield asset, Sol. It doesn't last."
The silence that followed was more terrifying than the shouting.
"You're a God," I continued, stepping forward. "You live on the devotion of the people. But Malachi here has turned your religion into a monopoly. He's charging 'tithes' that the people can't pay, which makes them resent you. He's short-selling the Empire's bonds, which means if the Empire falls, the people will blame their 'Sun God' for abandoning them. You aren't being worshipped, Sol. You're being embezzled."
The light shifted. The blinding heat turned into a warm, curious glow. A silhouette began to form within the radiance—a tall, translucent figure with eyes like twin stars.
"MY PRIESTS ARE MY VOICE," the figure stated, though he sounded less certain now.
"Your priests are your middle-men," I corrected. "And in my world, we cut out the middle-man when he stops providing value. You want more Faith? You want a 'bull market' of devotion? Then you need the Empire to prosper. You need the people to have full bellies so they can sing your praises instead of begging for bread. Give me the gold Malachi has hidden, and I'll use it to stabilize the nation. I'll turn your 'Sun' into a symbol of prosperity, not a tax collector."
[System Notification!] [Divine Negotiation in progress...] [Sol is considering your 'Restructuring Proposal'.]
"I'll rebrand you," I whispered, leaning in as if the God were a potential investor. "A nation-wide campaign. 'Sol: The Provider.' Not 'Sol: The Executioner.' Your Faith Revenue will triple in two fiscal years. Do we have a deal?"
The star-eyes stared into mine. For a moment, I saw the vastness of the cosmos, the birth of suns, and the death of worlds. And then, I saw a shimmer of something very human: greed for more power.
"YOU ARE A STRANGE CREATURE, EVELYN VON BISMARCK. VERY WELL. I SHALL WITHDRAW MY PROTECTION FROM THE CORRUPT. THE GOLD BELONGS TO THE EMPIRE... PROVIDED THE DIVIDENDS OF FAITH ARE PAID."
The light exploded.
A shockwave of pure energy blasted outward, shattering every stained-glass window in the temple. I was thrown back, my heels skidding on the marble, until I hit something solid.
Something warm. Something that smelled like cedar and steel.
"I leave you alone for an hour, and you start a fight with the heavens," Alaric's voice growled in my ear.
His arms were wrapped around my waist, holding me upright. He was trembling—not with fear, but with the sheer effort of standing his ground against the divine fallout. His sword was drawn, glowing with a fierce blue light.
"Alaric?" I gasped, clutching his forearms.
"The Temple was glowing so bright it could be seen from the border," he muttered, his eyes locked on the altar where High Priest Malachi was now screaming in agony.
The gold chains on the priest's neck were melting, turning into black liquid that seared his skin. The "Holy" symbols on the walls were crumbling. The God had officially closed the account.
"What did you do?" Alaric asked, looking down at me with a mixture of horror and dawning respect.
"I negotiated a buyout," I said, my legs finally giving out.
Alaric caught me before I hit the floor, lifting me into a bridal carry. I was too exhausted to protest. My head lolled against his chest, and I could hear the frantic rhythm of his heart.
"You're insane," he whispered, his grip tightening. "You're a cold-blooded, arrogant, terrifying woman."
"But I got the gold, didn't I?" I murmured, closing my eyes.
"Yes," Alaric said, his voice softer now as he began to carry me toward the exit, past the cowering nobles and the ruined priests. "You got the gold. And I think you've just started a war with every other God in the Pantheon."
"Good," I smiled, drifting into sleep. "I could use more capital."
[System Notification!] [Quest Complete: The Temple's Toll!] [Reward: Skill Upgraded to 'Venture Capitalist's Eye'!] [New Passive: 'Divine Credit Score' - You can now negotiate with Tier-2 Entities.] [Alaric's Interest: 12% -> 25%] [Warning: The Dowager Empress (Your Mother-in-Law) has arrived at the Palace. She is not happy about your 'Audit'.]