The hall in which the major gods of Thyrandel convened did not exist in any mortal sense of location. It was neither bound by geography nor governed by the laws of distance, time, or dimension. Instead, it existed at a convergence point where existence, and causality intertwined into something that could not be defined with language alone.

At its center was a vast circular table, forged from a substance that no living being could truly identify. It was neither metal nor stone, neither organic nor artificial, and yet it carried the impression of permanence. 

When one looked at it, the surface appeared smooth, but if they focused too long, it seemed to sink inward endlessly, as though it were not a surface at all, but a window into reality. Along its edges were markings that were not symbols in the conventional sense. They were laws, inscribed directly into runes.

Around this table sat the major gods of Thyrandel.

Their appearances were unstable, it appeared like they flickered subtly between tangible and intangible states. Some resembled humanoid figures, others appeared vaguely beast-like, and some were abstract enough that one could not confidently describe their shapes at all. Their forms were manifestations of their authority rather than true bodies, and their mere presence caused faint distortions in the surrounding realm. Light bent slightly, space rippled almost imperceptibly, and the air itself vibrated due to their immense power.

When the tall god with silver hair leaned forward, his movement alone caused a faint tremor to ripple across the hall.

His expression was permanently etched into a scowl, his sharp eyes reflecting a cold intelligence that had witnessed countless eras rise and fall. He rested his elbow against the table, and his long fingers curled slightly as he spoke.

“The demons have grown bold again,” he said, irritation and displeasure was evident in his voice. “The northern front has reported another breach. This is the third incursion in a single month.”

A god draped in robes of radiant gold lifted his head next.

His presence carried an oppressive weight, the kind that would have driven mortals to their knees without understanding why. His face was calm, sculpted into an expression of serene judgment, but his eyes burned with sharp authority.

“Our champions are no longer sufficient,” he declared, his tone firm and uncompromising. “Their growth is too slow, and their limitations are too many. Meanwhile, the demons evolve without restraint. If this continues, they will establish permanent footholds in multiple regions of the mortal world.”

He paused briefly, then added with faint disdain, “We entrusted too much to fragile beings.”

Before anyone could respond, a soft radiance bloomed across the chamber. As a woman formed of pure luminescence raised her gaze.

She was neither fully physical nor fully intangible, her body composed of light that flowed like liquid. Her hair cascaded down her back like a golden river, and her eyes glistened with gentle brilliance.

It was the Goddess of Light, Theia.

“I believe,” she said, her voice gentle yet unyielding, “that we should resume the project that was previously delayed.”

The words settled heavily upon the hall. Then a god whose skin was layered with bark, vines, and moss leaned forward. His eyes glowed with deep emerald light, and the faint scent of rain-soaked soil drifted around him like an aura.

“Are we simply going to pretend to ignore what happened the last time we did so?” he asked, his voice was calm, but thick with restrained tension. “Have you already forgotten?”

Everyone stopped speaking after hearing him, as they remembered about Steve and their failure in controlling him.

They remembered how he had been chosen and summoned after investing huge amounts of resources, how they had empowered him, how they had shaped him into a weapon meant to eradicate the demons, but ultimately betrayed them.

Theia folded her hands gently atop the table, the ethereal glow around her pulsing faintly as she spoke again.

“Even though he strayed from the path we laid before him,” she said softly, “he accomplished what we required from him. The demons were repelled, and our influence was restored for some time.”

Her gaze drifted slowly from one god to the next.

“And this time,” she continued, her voice remaining gentle, “we will not make the same mistake of granting excessive autonomy to the summoned otherworlders.”

That statement drew reactions from the gods sitting around the round table. Some gods nodded, some hesitated. But ultimately they all agreed with the decision.

The silver-haired god leaned back, tapping his fingers against the table. “Then we will need to establish stricter rules this time.”

“And we must be careful with the gifts,” the golden-robed god added. “We gave him too much power. Maybe that was the reason he betrayed us in the first place.”

Theia’s lips curved into a faint, serene smile. “Yes,” she agreed. “That will not happen again.”

The discussion among the gods continued long after the initial tension had faded, branching into countless subtopics that mortals would never fully comprehend. They debated on metaphysical compatibility, soul resilience, and how much power an otherworlder could be allowed before unpredictability became dangerous.

Some gods argued that too much suppression would weaken the otherworlders, but some argued that giving too much power would breed rebellion.

Slowly, consensus began to form, not out of harmony among the gods, but out of necessity.

They would summon otherworlders again and bless them. And this time, they would not allow another Steve. Then the discussion drifted toward numbers, candidates, and distribution of gifts.

…

In Avalon, the air inside the training hall vibrated with restrained power.

This was not a conventional space meant for sparring. Arthur had built it from the ground up with a singular purpose in mind; to endure his ever growing powers. The walls were composed of alloy X, reinforced with spatial, defensive and density runes. The training hall was built with adaptive constructs that reconfigured themselves in real time to prevent collapse under pressure. Even so, faint cracks had already begun forming along the ground where Arthur stood, as residual energy from his earlier attacks started to disperse.

Arthur stood at the centre of the hall. His posture was relaxed, but his expression was not.

Streams of purple energy flowed around him slowly. Aether rippled like starlight, warping space slightly as it passed. The energy was constantly changing between different elements, from fire, to lightning, water, wind, light, darkness and more.

Matter rippled and condensed in his open palm, forming and dissolving at will and space folded gently around him.

He was experimenting on the abilities he possessed, currently the active abilities he possessed were, Aether Manipulation, Mana Manipulation, Chi Manipulation, Technopathy, Energy Absorption, Elemental Manipulation, Matter Manipulation, Spatial Manipulation and Telekinesis.

Of all of these active abilities he possessed the most important and vital was Aether Manipulation, it was extremely difficult to improve. He had been trying to improve its level for a few days and even with his comprehension and computational capabilities of his mind he was unable to. It was like he was just a child and was trying to uncover the secrets of the universe. 

Arthur exhaled slowly, allowing all manifestations to dissipate and the chamber fell quiet again.

He sat down on the polished floor with his legs crossed, and hands resting loosely on his knees. Before him, dozens of floating tomes hovered in a wide semicircle, their pages flipping automatically, as he read the lines written on them. Many of them were manuals Steve had given him, methods meant for cultivators who still walked the path of mana and Chi.

He somehow felt that he was reaching a threshold of power, and the more powerful he became and neared that threshold he felt he was reaching a saturation point. He was unable to detect the reason, so he asked Steve about it in one of their sparring sessions.

…

Steve, after some probing, found a problem with his being. “You’re progressing too fast,” he had said casually.

All this time his strength was increasing tremendously which was not giving his soul enough time to improve with it. He also found Arthur’s soul was unusual but couldn’t pinpoint what it was, and that made Arthur’s soul much stronger than a mortal. And Steve suggested that might be the reason why he was able to become this strong without any bottlenecks so far.

Arthur had found that after replacing his mana and Chi with Aether he was unable to cultivate using the methods given in the mana and Chi cultivation manuals, and due to him not following a proper cultivation method his soul was not strengthening thus making his vessel and soul to be unbalanced.

And Aether was not gentle, neither was it accommodating. It was not designed for cultivation, it was a primordial force, the raw architect of existence. Trying to cultivate it with the existing manuals felt like trying to sculpt a mountain with bare hands.

When a mortal practices a cultivation manual it also helps them strengthen their soul to accommodate their increasing realm. But Arthur was not able to cultivate using the methods of those cultivation manuals as they were not compatible with him.

Actually, when one ascends to godhood one reaches a realm of power that a mortal soul was unable to bear even with their strengthened soul so when they ascend, they go under a tribulation which tempers their soul to accommodate their power of their vessel. 

He then came to a conclusion that the threshold he was reaching was due to his soul reaching its limit. He never thought he would encounter a bottleneck like this as his ability Adaptive Evolution, only focused on the evolution of his body and not his soul.

He leaned back, resting on his palms on the floor, his eyes drifted upward toward the vaulted ceiling of the training hall.

“It’s like…” he muttered quietly, more to himself than anything else, “…trying to pour an ocean into a cup.”

So, currently he was focused on various cultivation methods in front of him to deduce a method to improve his soul strength, as he felt once he reaches the peak of Demigod level power he would be unable to advance.

If raw power were the answer, he would already be unstoppable. His body had long since surpassed mortal limits. His reaction speed, regeneration, neural response, and physical strength had reached absurd heights. 

His Adaptive Evolution ability would ensure his physical body would reach the absolute peak of existence, but there was a condition placed, that is his soul also needs to be strong enough to accommodate its powerful vessel.

Though he would be able to improve his strength even after reaching the limit of his soul, he felt if he did that there would be severe consequences. And to truly become a god, he would have to find a way to strengthen his soul anyway. 

So, he focused again to understand the manuals. He could have used the Guardian AI to decode the manuals, but his own computational power was reaching a level similar to the AI and trying to come up with a method to strengthen his soul required human imagination, something which an AI couldn’t replicate and he himself understood his body best. So, he himself was trying to find a way out of his situation.

***

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