[Demiurge Kingdom.]
[Palace of Dignity.]
"Huff...."
Soren sat in an open-roofed room, still and silent, his eyes closed.
He drew in slow, steady breaths, his thoughts sowhere far from the present.
Nearly an hour passed before he finally opened his eyes.
Across from him, Valerius lay stretched out on a broken bed fra. When he noticed Soren stirring, he sat up.
"How did it go?"
"I’m close," Soren replied with a small nod. "Even if faint, I can still see the wall."
Valerius’s expression sharpened. "...The wall you need to cross?"
Soren’s lips curved faintly. "Yeah. I’ll reach Peak Eternal soon."
Valerius chuckled as he pushed himself up. "Congratulations, brother."
"It’s nothing yet," Soren said, standing as well. "How are the others?"
Valerius’s smile died down as he let out a sigh.
"Imri is still traumatised," he replied. "Phenex is taking care of him."
Soren exhaled quietly and reached for his space ring.
From it, he pulled out an injection filled with deep red blood.
Drawing in a deep breath, he injected himself with that blood.
Almost instantly, he felt his body relax down, and he felt different on a genetic level.
"...."
Soren looked at the empty injection with a conflicted look.
"It’s terrifying when you think about it," Valerius said quietly. "How House Atretic can mimic the blood of a god."
Soren gave him a soft, brittle nod.
It was the truth of their strength—and the foundation of their kingdom’s existence.
House Atretic had found the blood of Old Gods and mimicked them, injecting them into the test subjects.
Soren and those around him were the few test subjects among tens of thousands who actually survived.
... Aside from a handful of humans, they were the only ones left from the experint known as "Slave of God."
"Shall we go see him?" Valerius asked, pulling Soren from his thoughts.
He nodded and stepped out of the room.
Calling it a room wasn’t quite right—it was more like a cell.
The air was stale, the floor thick with dirt, and the walls carried the weight of years.
They had lived in places like this their entire lives... back in Kandam, and now here as well.
After passing a few empty cells, Soren reached one with the door open.
Inside, a young boy lay with his head resting on a woman’s lap.
Soren stood in the doorway for a mont.
Phenex glanced up at him, and he motioned toward Imri.
"He’s sleeping," she said. "I had to give him sothing to stop the nightmares."
Soren quietly asked, "Is he still getting those nightmares?"
"He wakes in the middle of the night screaming for help," she murmured, gently running her fingers through the boy’s hair.
"...."
Since facing Himl, Imri had been like this.
The fear wasn’t just lingering—it was carved into him.
The fear that made the boy lose all his bearings.
"It’s that weapon," Valerius said with a grunt. "Imri swears it killed him before."
Soren’s brow furrowed at Valerius’s words.
"...Killed him before?" he repeated slowly.
Valerius nodded grimly. "That’s what he kept mumbling when he first woke up."
Phenex’s hand paused for a mont as she stroked Imri’s hair.
"It wasn’t just fear," she said quietly. "It was like... he’d rembered dying."
Soren leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.
His mind flickered back to the crimson crescent axe—the chain wrapped around Himl’s arm.
..... Naraka.
Even saying its na in his mind felt heavy.
He had heard of it before from his father.
It was the ’elf’ who leaked the news about the weapon soon after Himl’s engagent.
And Kryllios had been obsessed with it since.
The weapon said to have killed the Old Gods.
Maybe Imri had co into contact with it during the fight and that was the reason for his current condition.
And if the rumors were true... Naraka had a will of its own.
Soren exhaled sharply, forcing the thoughts aside.
"Whatever that thing is, it broke Imri," he said softly. "If we face Himl again, we’ll have to find a way to keep him out of that fight."
Valerius grunted in agreent. "Or take that weapon from him."
Soren gave him a flat look. "Trying to separate them would be suicide."
A knock ca from the door, making them all look there.
Dagan walked in, raising his hand. "I brought ice cream."
Soren sighed as Dagan passed the ice cream to him.
Dagan crouched near Imri, careful not to wake him, and placed the last cup beside the boy’s arm.
Phenex gave him a faint smile, though her eyes still held that deep exhaustion. "Thanks, Dagan."
For a mont, none of them spoke.
Only the sound of Imri’s slow, uneven breathing filled the room.
Soren leaned his shoulder against the doorway, staring at the boy.
Valerius finally broke the silence. "How long before Kryllios calls for us?"
"Soon," Soren said. "We need to finish taking the Elven territories."
Phenex glanced at him. "And Himl?"
Soren’s jaw tightened. "We kill him," he said softly. "For the sake of our race."
---
---
[In a distinct land adjacent to the Davana Kingdom.]
A huge palace stood tall, an ancient palace that had long pillars supporting the structure.
Within the palace, everything shone brightly, reflecting the light of the sun.
Its walls were made of Chronoglass—a material that traps fragnts of ti.
A material that can’t be obtained in Lumina.
On a raised platform, ten ters above the ground, lay her.
A giant woman, her head resting lazily on the edge of the platform, eyes closed as she humd an unfamiliar tune.
She was nearly thirty ters tall, her well-maintained body carved with inhuman beauty.
Her long, grayish hair spilled across the floor, and in place of eyes, there were only two voids of emptiness.
She was Princess Gwenyra—the being most would call the closest thing to a goddess.
Before her, a middle-aged man stood at the base of the platform, looking up at her.
Edel, head of the Von Casita household, had t with her many tis before.
Since the wedding in the Asuran Empire, he had sought her counsel more than once.
Today was no different.
"Why are you here this ti?" Gwenyra asked, her smile faint but present. "Has sothing happened?"
Edel bowed slightly, hands clasped behind his back.
"...Yes," he said. "The Demiurge Kingdom has made its move again."
Gwenyra’s smile didn’t fade, but her head tilted just enough to make the air feel heavier.
"And why are you informing of this?" she asked gently.
"Edwin is preparing to move as well," Edel replied, his tone steady. "He is going to send his army against the elves."
"So, he’s finally acting," she said with narrowed eyes.
"Yes," Edel confird. "He’s also asking for my help."
She smiled softly. "Then help him," she replied. "Isn’t he your friend?"
Edel’s jaw tightened slightly, but his expression remained composed.
"Yes... he is," he admitted. "But the elves still have that boy."
Gwenyra shifted her head to the side, her voice still calm, almost teasing. "Ah, you an young Himl?"
"Yes." He nodded with a clenched jaw. "I can’t bring myself to be at ease for as long as he is alive."
"Then rejoice," she said, sitting on the platform. "Your wish will co true soon."
Edel frowned. "Pardon?"
"I used my newly ford divinity and saw a possible future," she replied with a smile. "The young Himl will die in this war."
"Huh?" He frowned. "What do you an—?"
"It’s as I say," she replied. "Unless there is an outside interference, he will definitely die."
"..."
Edel turned silent as he kept on staring at the woman without any words.
Though he didn’t show it, inside he couldn’t be any more happy.
"So, feel free to send your army," she continued. "They will remain safe."
Edel remained silent for a while, doubt kept on crawling in his mind.
He hesitated. "...Truly?"
"Yes." She nodded. "But you need to keep a few things in mind."
"Like?"
"Send all your elite troops and mbers," she replied with a smile. "But don’t send anyone above the Mid-Eternal."
Edel frowned hard. "...Why?"
"Because one of your higher-ranked family mbers will betray you," she said without hesitation.
"You wouldn’t want them in command of your entire force, would you?"
Edel’s eyes darkened, his fingers curling into a fist behind his back.
"Betray ?" he repeated slowly, his voice carrying the weight of restrained fury.
"Yes."
"Who?"
She tilted her head with a faint smile. "If I told you, there’d be no point in watching the play unfold."
His jaw clenched. "...You expect to let it happen?"
"I expect you to prepare," she said, her voice soft yet cutting. "A betrayal is only dangerous when it surprises you."
Finally, Edel straightened his back.
"...Very well. I will follow your advice. Edwin will have my troops, but I will watch my house closely."
"That’s all I ask," Gwenyra replied, leaning back against her platform.
"The war will be bloody, Edel. But if you play your part right... it will be soone else’s blood, not yours."
He gave her a deep bow before turning to leave.
"Ah," she called after him, her voice drifting lazily through the air, "one last thing."
He stopped at the doorway, glancing back.
"Don’t join the war yourself," she said. "Your life will be in danger if you do."
"...."
Edel frowned but said nothing, leaving the palace in silence.
The mont he was gone, Gwenyra’s smile curled wider.
A soft giggle slipped past her lips, slowly growing into a fractured, broken laugh that echoed through the palace halls.
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