Chapter 885: 885
As he spoke those words, he acted.
Suddenly, both Roth’s crimson eyes and Crepuscular’s golden eyes widened in unison. They felt the shift instantly. Ikenga had deliberately withdrawn his own divine claim from the child’s open channel, completely denying her gift from his lineage.
By slamming his door shut, it meant the only open source remaining was Crepuscular’s. The scales tipped, and the channel locked into a single, stable frequency.
"Why, brother?" Crepuscular asked, his voice filled genuine curiosity and confusion.
Ikenga waved his hand in a dismissive, casual gesture. "My Origin Source divinities are not inherently overwhelming by themselves, they require one to be highly creative and incredibly flexible of mind." He gestured vaguely toward Ikem. "He inherited the gift to control plants and woods. You know how that went."
"It was neither an easy nor a pleasurable moment for us both, teaching him to use that gift in a combative nature," Ikem admitted with a sigh, crossing his arms as he looked at Crepuscular. "But with your gift, no matter how bad her luck turns out to be, she will undoubtedly gain something powerful enough to protect her in the coming future."
Crepuscular parted his lips, about to counter the point, but Ikenga cut him off with a firm shake of his head.
"I might be many things, but a gentle, patient teacher is not one of them," Ikenga said aloud. Then, a sudden shift occurred as Ikenga bypassed spoken words entirely, speaking directly to Crepuscular through their private divine connection.
"You were never truly able to teach Ursula, brother. Her fire was lit and kindled by her own hands. But with this little one... whatever gift she awakens from your source, you could finally be the teacher you could have been with Ursula."
Hearing those words through their private connection, Crepuscular looked over at his daughter, Ursula, and then down at the fragile newborn. An understanding settled into his features. With a slow nod, he briefly opened the floodgates to his domain, so as to not overwhelm the child as he granted her essence access to his Origin source.
Instantly, the burning red flames enveloping the child shifted, bleeding into a brilliant, radiant gold.
The infant’s eyes fluttered open for the first time, glowing with a faint, mirrored golden light as she instinctively tried to reach out and interact with the dancing embers. But just as quickly as the phenomenon had manifested, the flames vanished, snapping back into her skin,
The room fell into a breathless silence. Everyone was burning with curiosity to see exactly what gift had been sparked within her. All eyes turned toward Crepuscular, waiting for him to speak.
Crepuscular simply smiled. Suddenly a sharp, instantaneous surge of heat warped the air. In a blink, the child completely vanished from Ursula’s tight embrace, reappearing a fraction of a second later, perfectly nestled into Crepuscular’s waiting arms.
"Teleportation?" Ikem blurted out, as he watched the space where his daughter had been just a moment ago.
A collective realization dawned on the young parents. Ursula and Ikem let out a synchronized, heavy sigh, locking eyes with a mixture of profound relief and utter dread. A newborn who could instantaneously bend space meant they were about to have a very, very long year ahead of them.
Amused by the chaos, the family’s gaze eventually drifted back toward Roth.
The newly ascended God of the Crimson Spark stood slightly apart from the rest, entirely consumed by deep thought. He was fiercely analyzing Ikenga’s lecture, dissecting the precise spiritual feedback he had received from the successful delivery of his very first divine blessing. Sensing the sudden weight of everyone’s attention returning to him, Roth blinked out of his trance and looked back at Ikem and Ursula, a brow raised in silent inquiry.
Both parents simultaneously pointed a finger at the golden-eyed child resting in Crepuscular’s arms. "You were to name her," Ikem reminded him, a smirk playing on his lips despite the looming dread of raising a teleporting infant.
"Yes. I should," Roth said smoothly.
He fell back into deep thought, his mind shifting away from the complex formulas of genetic locks and divine channels to focus on the symbolic weight of a name. After a few quiet moments, the inspiration struck him. He looked up, his crimson eyes locking onto the young couple.
"The name Sulakem is quite pleasing to the tongue," Roth declared, his cold voice carrying a note of pride. "And both parents are honored in this process."
"Thank you!" Ursula beamed.
Before Roth could even process the movement, Ursula who had recovered from the delivery lunged forward and pulled the unsuspecting, newly ascended God of the Crimson Spark into a fiercely tight hug.
Roth stood completely frozen, his arms stiff at his sides, his mind utterly blanked by the sudden, intense breach of his personal space. He looked like a statue of white stone, thoroughly shocked by the casual display of affection.
Watching the sight unfold, Tide who has experienced something similar just shook his head with a low chuckle. Meeting Roth’s wide, alarmed gaze, Tide offered a sympathetic shrug. "Get used to it, brother. She does that quite a lot."
A subtle presence manifested in the room, noticed only by the origin gods. Watching her growing family, Nana wore a gentle smile, seeing them all gathered together brought a deep sense of peace to her heart.
Few entities of her status ever enjoyed the luxury of witnessing such a sight, a gathering where her children actively challenged and pushed one another toward greater growth. She could only hope this harmony would endure in the ages to come, that such a rare, beautiful moment would not become a distant memory of the past.
Meanwhile, the ascension of a new god threw the world into an absolute frenzy. Across every kingdom and faction, urgent actions were taken to study and decipher this newly ascended deity. Leaders and scholars alike scrambled to understand how the new god’s divinity and doctrine might serve their interests or alter the balance of power.
Yet, amid this global chaos, Sulakem remained unknown. Her existence was hidden from the mortal realm, known only to the gods themselves. Because she was no divine being, she lacked the privilege of a loud announcement, leaving the world completely blind to her presence and birth.
On the northern continent, the war between the people of Björn and the Silver Kingdom grew more brutal by the day. The conflict had converged entirely upon the great boundary wall, which now served as the primary, blood-drenched crucible of the battlefield.
Both factions understood the catastrophic stakes, if either side lost control of the border wall and allowed the enemy to breach it, the entire nature of the war would shift. It would devolve into a desperate, grinding struggle of one side frantically trying to reclaim their stolen lands while bleeding out to hold back the enemy’s advance.
Yet, even with the Silver Kingdom fully aware of these stakes, waging war against the people of Björn was never a simple matter of strategy. To fight the Björn’s was to engage in a dual nightmare, a constant exhausting battle against a ferocious enemy, and an equally taxing psychological war against one’s own mounting terror and fading resolve.
To withstand this relentless pressure, the frontlines of the Silver Kingdom deployed their specialized machinery. Positioned securely behind the vanguard, massive, special chariots could be seen. These vital assets were heavily guarded by tireless alchemical creations, their chassis gleaming with deeply inscribed defensive runes meant to fortify them against any impending onslaught.
Inside the fortified chariots sat the priests of Mahu, ascetics who had devoted their entire lives to understanding the Goddess of Motherhood and the Moon. Their relationship with their deity was a cold contrast to that of priests of ascended gods, who closely managed their religions and answered their followers prayers.
Origin gods like Mahu cared little for mortal worship or organized priesthoods. Yet, this indifference did not mean her servants were left entirely hollow. While Mahu would never personally intervene to grant a miracle, her divinity naturally resonated when a priest, through lifetime devotion and rigorous practice, achieved a true understanding of her fundamental laws. By grasping the nature of her domain, they were permitted to momentarily glimpse her divine power and draw down her grace. This derived power was now the Silver Kingdom’s greatest foothold, a vital shield holding back the relentless tide of the Björn.
To step onto the battlefield against the people of Björn was to unwittingly step into a massive, active ritual. Every clash of steel, every drop of spilled blood, and every act of slaughter was carried out under the terrifying, attentive gaze of Björn himself, turning the warzone into a living temple of carnage.
The true horror lay in the passive effects of Björn’s gaze. His presence birthed a suffocating red mist that blanketed the battlefield, a corrupting fog that relentlessly eroded a soldier’s mind, pushing them to the brink of madness and driving them into an endless loop of blind slaughter.
