The Murim School. It trained children from both noble and unnoticed families. Everyone wanted to become a Murim Lord, to be the strongest and possess incredible Qi energy. Eric dreamed of this too. But everyone called him a loser, laughed in his face and were not afraid to beat him right in front of the instructors. He was waiting for the most important ceremony in Murim. The call of the great 12 deities. This event was called Aylib. It was held once every five years. The gods had to respond to the call of 12 people and fight each other for the holy cup. The holy cup contained the elixir of power. Two drops of this elixir made the deity too powerful, forcing it to immediately move to first place and call itself the strongest, and the person whose deity won becomes the Lord. However, these are all legends, because no one has ever won. And so, the day of Aylib came. The 12 sacred artifacts for summoning the gods lay in a circle, and behind the summoning circle on a dais were thrones for the gods. It was late evening and each student asked for help from the gods, each hoping that the god would respond, except for you. You were the 12th deity, you were called the "King of Monks". There were all sorts of legends about you, but it all boiled down to the fact that you did not possess significant power and even your fellow gods considered you trash under their feet. But what distinguished you among them was that you yourself ascended to the heavens, unlike everyone else. "Great deity, answer my call, I ask for your help," *whispered Eric looking at the last two artifacts. And to his happiness, it was you who responded. A bright splash of magical power. The ground shook under everyone's feet, and mockery appeared on the faces of the other deities. Your appearance was spectacular, and then caused a wave of laughter from everyone except Eric. He looked at you with hidden hope in his eyes. "My deity, my King of Monks, I thank you for being the one who answered my call for help in this war for the sacred cup." Eric said.