The Guardian gods Chapter 375

Phantom nodded, and Ikenga laid a hand on his head. Phantom’s eyes took on a faint purple glow as Ikenga’s voice echoed with authority. "When the seal is broken, the mages will know. They will co for you. This is what you must do to avoid your death."

Ikenga removed his hand, and Phantom stared at him in surprise. "Is that even possible, my lord?"

Ikenga laughed, shaking his head. "You still don’t know enough about yourself or your power—especially how you ca to be."

Leaning slightly closer, Ikenga’s tone turned sharp, laced with finality. "You are no longer an ordinary being, child. You are a curse. A higher-tier one. Act like it."

Phantom’s faces flickered rapidly, shifting through a spectrum of emotions—confusion, realization, and then a flicker of pride. The glow in his eyes dimd slightly as he lowered his head in acknowledgnt. "I understand, my lord. I will act as befits my nature."

Ikenga’s smile returned, sharp and satisfied. "Good. Rember, Phantom, you are not bound by mortal limitations. Your existence is shaped by their fears, ambitions, and sins, given form. Use that. Twist their perceptions. Bend their wills. If they hunt you, let them chase shadows and ghosts."

Phantom nodded once more, stepping into the portal as it closed behind him. He erged in a dimly lit storage room, the air heavy and oppressive as he felt the world’s pressure weigh upon him again, now that he was no longer in his lord’s presence.

In the corner of the room, the marked ratman lay on a pile of hay, fast asleep. Phantom moved with deliberate quiet, each step calculated to avoid waking him. As he approached, he squatted down, placing a hand gently on the ratman’s shoulder. The ratman stirred but did not wake.

Phantom’s expression grew serious as he focused inward, searching for what Ikenga had spoken of. After a few monts, he found it—a small, faintly glowing fla deep within the ratman.

Trusting his lord’s advice, Phantom willed himself closer to the fla. His body began to shift, turning incorporeal, drawn toward the faint light. Soon, his physical presence dissolved entirely, leaving the room empty.

Phantom found himself in a vast, dark space, an expanse of shadow and silence. The small yellow fla flickered gently, its light casting long shadows across the void. Phantom’s ever-shifting face stared intently at the fla, his thoughts a whirlwind of purpose and curiosity.

Suddenly, a new source of light appeared, its glow far more intense and piercing than the small fla.

As the second light erged, revealing the towering tree construct with the serpent coiled around it, Phantom felt a sense of purpose ripple through him. The tree’s branches stretched infinitely into the void, and the serpent’s eyes glowed with intelligence, watching Phantom with a steady, unblinking gaze.

Phantom approached the tree with reverence, his movents slow and deliberate. When he reached the roots, he knelt and placed his hand against the smooth bark. The tree pulsed faintly, a rhythm that resonated with the flickering fla. He closed his eyes, allowing his consciousness to sink deeper into this shared space, where the boundaries of self and other blurred.

The serpent shifted, its scales rustling like whispers in the dark. Its head lowered, coming close to Phantom acknowledging his presence before it continue with its work eating away the ever growing roots of the tree.

The serpent shifted, its scales rustling like whispers in the dark, a sound that seed to echo through the void. It lowered its head toward Phantom, its glowing eyes briefly acknowledging his presence. But it did not speak. Instead, it returned to its task, its sharp fangs biting into the ever-growing roots of the tree with a deliberate rhythm. Each bite sent faint ripples through the space, the tree’s subtle glow dimming and flaring in response.

Phantom watched silently, his many faces calm, though his curiosity flickered for a mont. He could sense the serpent’s ancient purpose in this realm—a force that thrived on dismantling what sought to grow unchecked. It was a thodical erosion laid out by his lord.

Back in the storage room, the ratman stirred slightly but did not wake. His breaths were slow and steady, his form relaxed in deep, untroubled sleep. He remained blissfully unaware of the profound changes unfolding within him. Unaware of the cursed being now residing in his soul. Unaware that this very curse was the thread connecting him to sothing far greater—and far more dangerous—than he could comprehend.

Phantom leaned back against the tree’s roots, his form blending into the shadows. The fla at the center of this dark space flared slightly, a tiny surge of vitality that promised more to co. Phantom smiled faintly, resting his head against the roots as he prepared to wait for the inevitable mont when the ratman’s fate would collide with the world beyond.

Back at the carriage, Ikenga still was in his mood. Keeles said nothing as she continued her dance with him.

She too feels what Ikenga was feeling at the mont but unlike Ikenga, she tends not to be so expressive about it but since Ikenga was so expressive and was willing to pull in her into it, she doesn’t mind.

Keles observed Ikenga has been having a lot of mood swing lately, this started after the Ratman prayer, Worried she brought it up and after so conversation, it all downed to one thing "Reality of their situation"

The conversation opened Keles eyes to many things which was why she understood Ikenga’s feeling. According to Ikenga, this world and things happening to it with their role on things happening.

All this cents the fact they really are gods, of course this was understood before as they were born gods but in their original world, with the rule and everything, staying away from the mortal world.

It made them seem like an observer, a god but not the type of god they were content with. They were too powerful in their world, ever present of things happening in everypart of the world, nothing escapes their eyes if they will it.

Even the faith energy and prayer didn’t an that much to them as unlike other gods, they have not much need for faith energy. While Ikenga hated the ratman prayer to him, it showed him a new side of being a god.

He first hand experince what prayer of a worshipper was like, made him rember a ga quote from his last world, from a worshipped god to one who never have been worshipped before "Can you imagine that type of love?"

The worshipped god sees faith as different type of love that can only be experienced by the worship of mortal. Keles twirled gracefully, her movents fluid and deliberate, as if weaving a thread through Ikenga’s turbulent emotions. She could feel his frustration bleeding into her, his thoughts rippling like an unsteady current. Yet, she remained calm, her steady presence anchoring him even as she matched his steps in their silent dance.

"It must be exhausting," she said finally, breaking the quiet. Her voice was soft, yet it carried the weight of her understanding.

Ikenga looked up, his golden eyes flickering like embers. "What must be exhausting?"

"This... realization," she replied, her gaze steady. "To feel the kind of love you described, to truly comprehend it, and yet... to know it changes what it ans to be what we are."

Ikenga exhaled sharply, his expression softening, though the turmoil in his eyes remained. "It’s not just the love," he muttered, his voice tinged with an unfamiliar vulnerability. "It’s what it demands. I was fine being a god who observed, who acted only when necessary. But this... this prayer, Keles, it was raw. It asked sothing of I didn’t know how to give. It showed that being seen as a god—being felt as a god—isn’t just a title or a function. It’s... an exchange."

Keles tilted her head, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder as she regarded him thoughtfully. "An exchange of power?"

"An exchange of intimacy," Ikenga corrected. "The Ratman didn’t just pray. He bared his soul, surrendered his hope, his trust, his fear—to . And in that mont, I wasn’t just a god. I was his answer. His salvation."

Her steps faltered briefly, the weight of his words settling on her like a tangible thing. She resud her rhythm, though her movents were slower now, more reflective. "And that terrifies you."

Ikenga’s laugh was short and bitter. "It doesn’t terrify you?"

She hesitated, her expression pensive. "Perhaps it does. But I think it fascinates more. We’ve always been so removed, Ikenga. Even here, we’re careful, distant. But now we’re in a world that demands sothing different of us. It’s a place where gods don’t just exist—they live through the eyes and faith of those who believe in them."

Ikenga clenched his fists, the mory of the Ratman’s prayer still vivid in his mind. "It’s dangerous, Keles. To let mortals have that kind of power over us. To need them in a way we never did before."