The Stepping Stones

God of Farts

I conquered every land.

I killed all my enemies.

I slept with every 'heavenly' beauty.

Everything I wished to do, every limit I aspired to overcome, I did but after that? It's just loneliness, a gloom that you carry within your heart everywhere, all the time.

I... am an immortal. 

I've met the creators, the Gods that created the multi-verse, time has left a much deeper and crueler scar on their souls. Most of them are mad already.

They do weird things for entertainment. They creep me out.

Only the God of Life and God of Death deserve their title. Everyone else is a bitter loser, suffering from a disease I recently acquired, immortality.

There's one God that transformed his entire body into that of a machine at first and then went to earth as a truck to transport people from there to different worlds.

Another one created a whole new body of a teenager and built a fake set of memories for him where he was bullied and underestimated every day by his relatives.

Then he kept enticing trodden souls from earth and netherworld to take residence within the body.

Upon acquiring the new body, the delusional fools would usually burst forth with indignation and stupid promises. Winning tournaments and competitions, love of every beautiful and important maiden, and heavenly treasures that God threw at them.

When they ran out of intense entertainment to provide, 'He' would refine their souls again and regress the state of the body into that of a teen to tempt more trodden souls into it. 

God save these losers, oh wait-

Anyway, I met lots and lots of them. Some congratulated me, some didn't respond. Some were having twisted fun.

I got bored of them and found much more interesting things to do.

Watching saplings grow into trees, then go through cycles of nature before withering away. 

Counting the stars in the sky, one by one until I feel frustrated enough to destroy one or two of them in anger.

Poisoning single cold-hearted young maiden with aphrodisiac to bring some love within their lives.

One way or the other, I spend my time, increasing my knowledge, crawling towards omniscience.

Soon, I began to lose my mind, turning more and more into one of those creeps I met long ago.

My emotions vaporized with time. My fire long gone cold. All that remained of me was an empty shell of a happy motivated mortal I once used to be.

I wanted to die.

How ironic!

I was very serious though. I went to God of Death for advice, for him to undo this terrible curse of consciousness I refused to let go.

He shook his head and told me to focus on my vocation. If I could find something, some element of the Multiverse that I wanted to control, I could tread that path, and maybe, possibly, perhaps, the scourge of immortality wouldn't hurt as much anymore.

I took his advice and went on a journey to find anything I liked. Something that would forever keep me motivated.

I asked the mortal saints.

I asked the majestic conquerors and emperors.

I asked the Buddha.

I asked the Demons and Devils.

I got myriad answers but none satisfying me. Most of them being things that I had tried and left long ago.

One day, I decided to visit a renowned Alchemic Emperor. 

His home truly was a divine land. Rainbow-colored light, multicolored clouds, towering mountain peaks with fresh air, beautiful golden cranes, everything that a mortal would associate with immortals was found here.

Alas, a real immortal like myself only found it as interesting as staring at an oval grey rock for a few decades.

It didn't take long for me to find him. The Emperor was concocting a Divine pill.

Surrounded from all directions by the elders of his sect to sect disciples and his students, his forehead was overflowing with glistening sweat as he was on the last part of completing his pill, the quenching process.

His aura was enough to suppress everyone around him. They weren't allowed to speak or interfere him during this process.

Now, I wouldn't have said anything but observing his cauldron, I realized something, these pills would never be complete.

The intrinsic nature of two of his auxiliary materials was as such.

Since I was there to seek his advice, I decided to warn him out of goodwill.

"Little brother, it's about to explode."

Who would have known that someone speaking at this crucial time would have startled the Alchemic Emperor so much that his nerves would relax and...

Purr...

A stench wafted to everyone's noses, but it definitely wasn't the pure enriching heavenly aroma of the pill he was concocting but his fart.

The disciples stood there with red faces, from holding in their breaths and laughs, but they were clearly unsuccessful as abrupt giggles and laughs burst forth one after another.

I laughed along too, feeling the naivety within me being stroked by this. 

I began laughing and louder as I thought of something, the fart jokes.

If I become the God of farts, I would definitely be able to enjoy every fart joke, the rough, simplistic, vulgar, and yet childish entertainment, it would forever keep me entertained.

And so began the journey

... of God Of Farts.

Author's Note:

The stench of the Alchemic Emperor's fart was soon masked by the worse smell of his failed pill, that emanated a dark black smoke.

Thankfully, without an explosion.

Strangely, even after searching everywhere with his divine sense, he wasn't able to find the culprit that disturbed him in his crucial moments. When the disciples scattered away from the horrible stench of the failed pill, the Emperor shook his head, letting out another fart.