The light faded—not suddenly, but like a tide retreating, slow and serene. Warmth lingered, humming gently in the bones of those inside like the embers of a dying flame refusing to go cold.

When vision returned, Alex found himself surrounded by fire.

But it wasn’t burning.

A dome of fire—smooth, semi-translucent, and alive—encased them.

It wasn’t a flame in the destructive sense. It shimmered like molten glass, flickering gold and orange, warm to the skin, yet causing no harm.

Beyond the fiery veil, the world was muffled. Reganath, Bahir, and the soldiers were pressed against the barrier, shouting and smashing their fists, yet unable to break through.

The ones outside couldn’t even see what was going on inside.

Inside the dome, however, was silence.

The girl was still floating there—still and radiant—just a few feet in front of Alex, Zahara, Sophie, Lilia, and Mira.

Her small frame looked more like a vessel than a person, barely disturbed by gravity. Her hair fluttered despite the stillness, threads of sunlight drifting through the air.

She looked at each of them—not threatening or cold—but with a gaze deep enough to drown in.

“I am known by many names,” she began, her voice soft and echoing, layered with something more ancient than language. “But the people of this land once called me Asphera. The Goddess of Flame. The Guardian of Simharia. The Divinity of the Old Faith.”

The dome pulsed once as she spoke her name, as though the flames remembered.

No one interrupted her.

Even Alex, tense and ready to strike at the first twitch, held his position. Verathian remained drawn but unmoving.

The pressure of her presence still wrapped around him like vines—dense, warm, and impossible to shrug off.

“I did not come to harm you,” she said, looking at Alex. “In truth… I was only able to awaken because of you.”

He blinked, narrowing his eyes. “What?”

Asphera’s golden gaze softened.

“Long ago, I was forced to seal myself in slumber. My awakening was bound to a single condition: if a threat emerged—one strong enough to erase this land, my people, and their legacy—I would return.”

Her gaze flicked to the faint, lingering shimmer of destructive aura that clung to Verathian like dust to steel.

“One day, not long before, you used that power,” she said, “making my consciousness, which had been sleeping, instinctively think that the end had come. After all, the other entity that uses destruction is the harbinger of doom.”

Sophie and Alex, who knew who Asphera was talking about, exchanged glances, their bodies tense.

“I awoke… wanting to protect my land, only to see someone different,” Asphera continued, her tone no longer divine but almost human—melancholic and regretful. “I observed all of you for a while, fearing the use of disguise. But after seeing how you fought, how you chose to protect this city even at the cost to yourselves, I knew you were not the end.”

Zahara’s lips parted slightly, her hand still on her blade. “You were watching us?”

“Yes. And it was because of that… I decided to act. To reveal myself.”

She turned her head ever so slightly, glancing toward the flames of the dome.

“This city would have fallen otherwise.”

Alex’s brows drew together. “You said the element of destruction woke you up. But you thought it was someone else… Who did you mistake me for?”

Alex knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her lips. He wanted to see if he could get more information about that being.

Asphera, however, only smiled.

It was a quiet smile. One filled with centuries of withheld secrets.

“A question for another time,” she said, not unkindly. “That name is buried deep, and even I would hesitate to speak it aloud in this age.”

Frustration flared in Alex’s eyes, but he didn’t press her. After all, he knew what kind of entity it was. Who knew if uttering its name awoke it?

“But I’m not here to dwell on the past,” she said gently, changing the topic and looking at them. “I’m here… to ask for help.”

That drew everyone’s attention.

“You’re a goddess,” Lilia said quietly. “Why would you need help from mortals?”

Asphera chuckled lightly, a sound like wind chimes over the flame. “Even gods have limits, especially those tied to a land.”

She raised her hand, and the fire around them pulsed again.

“I intended only to speak with Alex. He holds the core of that power… but after seeing the rest of you—” she paused, and something strange shimmered in her golden eyes, “—I changed my mind.”

She turned toward Lilia first.

“You,” she said, “bear the magic of forgotten time. Ancient, buried by the river of history, and yet alive in you.”

Lilia’s eyes sharpened at the mention of her power, her crimson aura flickering in sync with her heartbeat.

Then the goddess looked at Mira.

“You carry the body of a clan long erased. A physique born for a purpose now lost to memory. Yet… you somehow remain pure.”

Mira’s expression remained unreadable, her gaze unwavering, but inwardly, she was shaken. After all, this was the first time someone who knew about her past had appeared.

What she didn’t know was that even Alex had the answers to her questions now.

That was why, when Asphera mentioned it, his eyes flashed with an unknown light.

The goddess, however, went on as her eyes locked onto Zahara.

“Your… You have the potential to wield holy fire. The kind that purifies gods and demons alike.”

Zahara’s eyes widened, red irises reflecting the dome’s glow.

The holy fire was one of the strongest and purest fires ever known in the history of Astralobis.

Being able to wield it meant being able to become one of the strongest entities to exist.

After all, other than Asphera, the goddess of fire, there was no one else who could wield it.

Asphera, on the other hand, finally turned to Sophie.

But here… she hesitated.

Her voice, once confident, lowered slightly.

“You… I cannot see through. Not clearly. You are like a dream wrapped in light and shadow. A paradox. Perhaps even more.”

Sophie said nothing, but her hand on Alex’s shoulder loosened, relief flooding both her and Alex as they wanted to see if a goddess could tell who or what Sophie was.

Fortunately, she couldn’t.

So, Alex, taking the opportunity, his expression still guarded, spoke up.

“So what do you want from us?” He asked, his voice flat.

Asphera hovered closer, her form dimming slightly as the dome responded to her presence.

“I want your help,” she said. “To stop what’s coming.”

A heavy silence followed those words. No flames cracked, no aura stirred. Even the wind beyond the dome seemed to pause.

“What’s coming?” Mira asked.

The goddess didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she looked up—toward the sky, toward where the cracks had been.

“The glitch… was something I, as a god, had never seen,” she said. “But I know who brought it and that it was only the beginning.”

Her words fell like stones into calm water, sending ripples across their hearts.

Alex inhaled slowly, his instincts flaring. Zahara reached for him, her hand brushing his arm, grounding him.

“Who was it?” He asked.

Asphera paused for a second before her lips parted.

“The empire.”

The dome flickered.

And for a heartbeat… all of them saw it.

It was an illusion or a vision from Asphera.

They saw a fight unlike any they had seen before in the vision. In that fight, a world was destroyed.

It was at a magnitude they couldn’t even fathom.

By the time it ended, a treaty was signed.

They could read the treaty.

It was said that neither of the gods would interfere with the other’s domain.

Which meant none of them could attack or control the people of the other’s domain.

The vision then faded, leaving the translucent barrier as it was.

No one said anything, but that didn’t mean they didn’t understand.

Asphera had already told them that the enemy was the Beast Empire, and the fight they saw just now also featured her.

So, it was easy to conclude that the other god was the Empire’s god.

It was clear that there was a fight between both gods, and once it ended—probably a draw—the treaty was signed.

That was why, now, when the people of the empire were attacking while using some unknown power, Asphera could do nothing but watch.

Yes, she could protect her people like she did, but that won’t solve the problem.

After all, there was a limit to how many times she could descend like this.

Even after that, the root cause of all this—the Empire—would continue its deed.

“Help me,” the goddess finally whispered, no longer divine or distant but a voice in the fire.

“Help Simharia.”

Alex glanced at the others. Sophie. Lilia. Mira.

They weren’t looking at him but at Zahara, and so did he.

As his eyes met hers, he knew the answer.

“We’ll help,” he said, his eyes locked with Zahara’s. “After all, this would determine the life of one of our family members.”

The goddess of flame smiled.

And for the first time, it reached her eyes.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep