[West Of Kandam Continent.]
[Argonian Family Castle.]
There were a total of thirteen families that had always led the Kandam Continent.
From the First Era of Dajin and Divyan to the current era, one thing that had been common was their rule.
They had been part of every decision that flourished or destroyed many races.
From the creation of the five major Gods to aiding the Principalities, they had been the ones behind the scenes.
One might ask, how did they pull this off and not lose their legacy when hundreds of such families had died?
The answer was simple, they were blessed by the Creator God.
The thirteen families were the descendants of the first thirteen mortals made by the Creator God.
They worshipped only the Creator God and nobody else, and in return the residue of "him" still played with fate to keep them safe.
---
In the grand castle of the Argonian family, a tense atmosphere draped over the place like a thin veil.
Servants and soldiers walked around with their heads down, fearing for their lives.
In one such grand room, a long round table was placed with thirteen seats at equal distance.
The long table was made of black stone, polished so perfectly that it reflected the dim golden lights above like still water.
The ’representatives’ of all the thirteen families sat in a suffocating silence.
At the right centre sat a man in his late fifties, his hair midnight blue and eyes a shade of crimson.
Vulas Hader Argonian, the current head of the Argonian family and the one who had called them all.
He had his back leaned on the seat, his hand busy with a paperweight as he played with it.
"Are you going to keep on wasting our ti?"
A dull voice ca from the other side, making Vulas look up.
The man who spoke was tall with deep bright red hair and black eyes. He had distinct ears that were long and curled.
He was the head of the Hunahed Family, a family that ruled the empire of Ephraim.
Vulas raised his hand and brought his index finger close to his thumb.
"I am this close to being a God...." He spoke in a monotonous tone. "....Yet, I can’t touch the aspect of it."
"So, what of it?" Another man asked, the bell on his antlers ringing as he spoke. "Most of us are in your position."
He was the head of House Atretic. His na was Abram.
"No, no." Vulas shook his head, leaning forward. "You don’t understand, I have done everything that was told in old books. Sacrifice, rituals, mass extinction but nothing leads to godhood."
"You are impatient," Abram said after a mont, his tone calm but carrying a faint edge, "Godhood was never ant to be reached so easily."
Vulas let out a soft chuckle, though there was no humor in it, only frustration.
"...You don’t understand what I am going through, do you?" He asked, staring at Abram. "I have been trying to be a god for almost a thousand years, god damn!!"
"And you still haven’t achieved it."
Another voice chid in, this ti a female. "Such a sha, isn’t it?"
She had blonde drill-lock hair with eyes of the sa shade. Her body was draped in a thin layer of dress made of gold.
She was Isola, the head of the Asharion Family.
Vulas raised his hand to rub his face, trying his best not to lash out.
"As we know, we are stuck in demigod rank because of the barrier that separates Lumina from the Divine Kingdom." Vulas said, ignoring her comnt. "And that barrier is breaking."
Vulas slowly lifted his head, his crimson eyes scanning across every single one of them, making sure they were all listening.
"....We can finally be Gods."
No one said a word but they didn’t hide the excitent in their eyes.
"Do you still need a catalyst...to be precise, you need to eat a god." Another one spoke. "How do you plan to do that?"
He was a man with short grey hair and deep ember eyes. He was a demigod of the Solace Kingdom which was having a hard ti maintaining itself because of the king’s health.
His na was Mardom Solace.
Vulas looked at the man with a small smile on his face.
"Yeah, about that." He said. "Do we really have to eat a low-level god?"
Mardom tilted his head in confusion. "So what?" He asked. "Are you planning to eat a Primordial?"
Vulas didn’t respond though his silence made everyone else uncomfortable.
"Let’s put him aside for now." Another man stood up, his voice old and weak.
He was soone of short structure but with a long beard that reached his stomach. He was the head of the Geberion Family.
His na was Ravensin.
The old man slowly stood up, with a smile on his face.
"I have an announcent to make." He said, his voice drowning the place. "My family elders and I made a divination a few days ago."
He made sure everyone was listening.
"The Creator God is returning in two months!"
The entire room erupted.
"What?!"
"Are you certain?!"
"That’s impossible!"
Chairs scraped against the floor as several of them stood up at once, gone was their cold look, replaced by fear.
Ravensin didn’t repeat himself imdiately.
Instead, he walked forward slowly, his old fra steady.
"We confird it thrice." He said calmly. "There is no doubt, he will be returning soon."
"....How?"
Vulas asked in a quiet voice.
Ravensin shook his head in response. "We don’t know that yet." He said. "My strength isn’t enough to foresee that."
"....."
A silence struck the place once again as they all sat down.
The return of the Creator God could be both a blessing or a curse. It all depended on whether "he" saw them as his own or not.
Vulas rubbed his face, already making plans to change the shift and timing of his godhood.
"I also have another piece of news."
Abram stood up once again, this ti as the speaker.
"Actually it’s more of a tip that I got from soone."
"And who might that be?" Isola asked sweetly.
"ECTO organisation." He replied simply. "They provided this information."
Isola nodded her head, there was no one here who wasn’t aware of the organisation.
It had been part of Lumina since ages they didn’t rember.
"Well, the tip is simple." Abram spoke. "They have identified who Azrael’s reincarnation is."
Isola’s playful expression was gone now.
Her fingers stopped tapping against the table.
"...Are you sure it’s not misinformation?"
Abram shook his head. "ECTO doesn’t deal in guesses."
"And who might that be?" Vulas asked quietly.
"Have you heard of the boy who killed a demigod when he was in early Eternal rank?" Abram asked, not hiding the anger in his tone.
"...Himl, right?" Vulas replied. "He is the one?"
"Yes." Abram replied. "And while we are on the topic, I would also like to inform that our runes experint was a success."
He put forward a docunt and passed it towards everyone.
"Using werewolves as receptors, we can make a wall with only a hundred thousand of them." He said, without a speck of remorse in his voice. "A hundred thousand lives to capture a god is a good deal."
Isola picked up the docunt first, her golden nails sliding across the surface as her eyes moved quickly through the contents.
"...A living formation," she murmured softly.
Abram nodded.
"Yes. Their bodies act as anchors, their blood as conduits. The runes bind them together into a single structure."
"You got this information from ECTO as well, right?" She narrowed her eyes. "I feel like you are being manipulated sohow without you noticing it."
"It doesn’t matter." He replied. "All they do is exchange information, they are not a threat to us."
Mardom frowned slightly. "...Do they survive?"
Abram didn’t even hesitate. "No."
Vulas finally took the docunt, glancing through it quickly before letting out a faint hum.
"...A prison made of flesh."
"More like a cage," Abram corrected.
"Why are you showing us this?" Vulas asked, putting the docunt down. "Surely you won’t give this to us for free."
"Surely not." He replied with a smile. "I have a proposal."
Abram rested both of his hands on the table, leaning forward slightly.
"We capture Himl together." He said calmly. "I want him."
"....For what?"
"I need to dissect his body so I can look inside it." He replied. "After all, he is the weakest of his fallen brothers."
Ravensin stared at him without speaking, his eyes narrowed.
With his age and experience, he could clearly see that Abram was scheming sothing.
"You plan to consu him?" He said at last. "You wish to get the bloodline of the fallen?"
The room grew quieter, heavier, as every pair of eyes settled on him.
Finally Abram smiled.
"I made a deal." He said, his voice echoing in the place. "With his older brother, Satan."
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