Chapter 296: 296

His mother’s message, delivered in cryptic words laced with divine authority, echoed in his mind: “It is time. Your duties to this world will soon end, and your place in the stars awaits.” He had been told since childhood that the time would come when his mortal ties would dissolve, and he would take his place among the gods. But he never expected the moment to feel so… ill-timed.

“Father?” Zephyr’s voice snapped Ikem back to the present. “You’re troubled. Is it the humans? Or something more?”

Ikem studied his son again, wondering if now was the time to share the burden he had carried since the moment the gods had spoken. Zephyr had proven himself time and time again, but the truth of ascension was not an easy one to bear. Yet, he couldn’t shield his son from it forever. If the apeling kingdom was to endure, they would need to prepare—not just for the human threat, but for a world where the children of the gods would soon stand alone.

Ikem decided against his thought by not telling Zephyr about the decision. Ikem’s mind settled as he made the decision. Conflict with the humans, particularly the followers of Björn, was still in its infancy. It would be foolish to rush headlong into a full-blown war when patience could yield better results. Zephyr, sharp and capable, had been right—the humans would test them again, and when they did, Ikem wanted his son to be in the best possible state of mind to face the challenge.

For years, Ikem had kept Zephyr close, stationed in the capital to serve as his swift messenger, able to discreetly communicate with his sibling scattered across the kingdom. His son’s natural affinity for wind made him an invaluable asset—his speed and ability to traverse vast distances in moments allowed Ikem to stay informed and maintain unity among his children and subjects. Zephyr had thrived in this role, growing stronger and wiser with each passing year.

Now, with the looming reality of ascension, Ikem began to see the necessity of a transition. He had watched Zephyr’s growth closely, observing his increasing sense of duty, his strategic mind, and his connection to the people. It was time to consider passing the mantle of leadership to him. The kingdom would need a strong leader in the wake of his departure, and Zephyr, more than any of his other children, was ready to step into that role.

As Ikem mulled over his decision, his thoughts drifted beyond his own kingdom, to the eastern continent. Three months’ journey from the Omadi Kingdom lay the territory ruled by King Osita, a well-known rival. Unlike the apeling kingdom, where the people’s loyalty to the gods was unshakable and their isolation protected them, Osita’s territory thrived on a different set of principles. His people lived freely, walking the streets with smiles on their faces, unconcerned with the chaos beyond their borders.

Osita’s land was a place where the worship of many gods flourished. Statues of the origin gods dotted the territory, marking it as a melting pot of beliefs and traditions. In contrast to the strict religious adherence seen elsewhere, Osita had allowed his people to choose their own paths of worship, offering a unique sense of freedom. Osita kingdom had no culture of their own so they took part of others’ culture they liked and decided to live with it depending on which culture each individual found fitting for themselves.

The people of Osita’s kingdom were, in many ways, similar to the apelings in their indifference to the growing human conflicts. As long as their own interests weren’t threatened, they paid little mind to the power struggles unfolding in distant lands. They knew well that their safety and prosperity were tied to their king’s leadership—and while Osita’s subjects believed their peace stemmed from his benevolence, the truth was far more complex.

Osita alone knew the real reason his kingdom remained untouched by the turmoil beyond its borders. Centuries ago, he had entered into an agreement with Ikem, a pact that shaped the fate of his kingdom. Ikem, at the time, had imposed a strict condition on Osita: he was to refrain from attacking any humans or engaging in unnecessary conflicts. Instead, Osita was to focus on growing his kingdom, protecting his people, and maintaining a peaceful existence. If attacked, he could defend himself—but he was forbidden from initiating any aggression. It was a compromise born out of necessity. At the time, Osita had been far weaker than Ikem, and with the weight of Ikem’s power looming over him, he had little choice but to accept.

In those early years, Osita had been frustrated by the agreement, feeling it ran counter to his ambitions. His initial goal had been one of expansion and conquest, seeking to assert dominance over the weaker human kingdoms surrounding him. But with Ikem’s decree hanging over him, those dreams was dashed. He had no choice but to comply, curbing his ambitions in favor of survival.

Yet, as the centuries passed, Osita had come to see the wisdom in the arrangement. The stability it provided allowed his people to thrive in ways he hadn’t anticipated. They had grown prosperous, their kingdom flourishing under his leadership, and the peace brought by the agreement had become a valuable asset.

Osita himself had undergone a transformation, Osita’s transformation, unlike the pact with Ikem, was a consequence of his own actions—one that came with deep, irreversible lessons. His life as a Cambion, half-demon and half-human, was the product of choices he made without fully grasping their weight. His attempt to take over a human soul was driven by his demonic instincts at the time, yet it instead became a cautionary tale about the complexity and unpredictability of human emotions.

Demons like Osita had always relied on manipulation, thriving on the belief that emotions could be wielded like tools to control and influence. Left over inheritance memories from his demonic past showed of the many times demons had tangled with human emotions, finding themselves ensnared by them rather than in control. Demons’ traits of trickery and unpredictability arose from eons of dealing with humans, who, despite their fragile bodies, possessed something otherworldly in their hearts—the power of emotion, a gift from the Seven Deadly Sins and Virtues.

Humans, above all other life forms, seemed to be specially more blessed with this gift. Their emotions were erratic, contradictory, and impossible to predict. Demons could control, provoke, and manipulate feelings, yet with humans, these emotions often turned on them, leading to unforeseen outcomes. Osita, like many demons before him, had underestimated this power.

In his time as part of Murmur conciousness, Osita had seen emotions as nothing more than bargaining chips. When he encountered a human body he desired, he thought the emotions tied to it could be manipulated like any other. The man whose body Osita took over had been in a state of intense emotional turmoil, his pregnant wife adding weight to every decision. Osita believed the human’s fear for his unborn child’s safety would be the perfect leverage, a way to extract the man’s soul and claim his body without resistance.

He was right—the man did give up his soul, and Osita assumed control. But what he didn’t anticipate was the lingering emotional attachment that remained. Despite the man’s soul being gone, his deep longing for the safety of his wife and unborn child had imprinted itself on the body, a shadow that now haunted Osita.

It was the beginning of a slow, agonizing transformation. What should have been a simple possession turned into a much more complicated ordeal. Osita found himself feeling emotions that weren’t his own—tenderness, protectiveness, and even love toward the woman and child who weren’t his by blood. But they were his now, in a way that no demon could truly understand. The demon within him recoiled at this unfamiliar sensation, but the human half, which had taken root in his Cambion form, began to accept it.

The more time Osita spent in the human body, the more he began to understand the burden of these emotions. He tried to resist, attempted to detach himself from the family, but the longing remained. The child, once born, cemented his transformation further. Against his will, Osita became a father, not just by circumstance, but by emotion. The demon inside him warred with these human feelings, but the Cambion state of being allowed both to exist within him.

This experience taught Osita a brutal lesson: humans could not be defined by their emotions, nor could their actions always be predicted based on what they felt. They were beings capable of feeling one thing and acting in an entirely opposite manner. It was a complexity that demons had long struggled with, and Osita was no different. His demonic instincts had been outplayed by the very essence of humanity.

Over the centuries, Osita learned to live with this transformation. He could no longer view humans with the cold detachment he once had as a demon. The family he had unintentionally created had grounded him in ways he hadn’t thought possible. While he still retained his demonic cunning and power, he also carried with him the weight of fatherhood and the responsibility of protecting those he had once seen as mere pawns.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep