Chapter 397: 397

For someone as meticulous as Vellok, such an oversight was troubling.

Elsewhere, on a secluded path winding through an untouched forest, a massive carriage moved steadily forward. Its wheels creaked softly, pulled by a strange creature with multiple legs and an almost reptilian appearance. A goblin in pristine butler attire sat on the creature, his expression stoic and unreadable.

Inside the carriage, Ikenga and Keles lay on their respective beds, recovering from their earlier ordeal. The clash between Gurnak and Vorenza had been a sight to behold, one that resonated across the entire world. Every being at the sixth stage or higher had felt it, their attention drawn to the battle like moths to a flame.

For Ikenga, it was the first time witnessing such a fight at that level.

The uniqueness of the sixth stage had been laid bare for both watching gods. Keles had whispered to Ikenga when the clash began, her tone a mix of reverence and curiosity:

“So this is the path taken by those who do not ascend.”

Ikenga had nodded, his gaze fixed on the distant echoes of power. What struck him most was that these beings’ domains—the usual limits of their influence—had expanded far beyond the norm. It wasn’t just a clash of powers within isolated territories. Their influence now spanned the entire world.

For a brief moment, Ikenga let go of his resistance and allowed himself to be drawn into the spectacle. His perspective shifted, and what he saw left him in awe.

The world seemed overlaid with another layer of reality, a realm where the fundamental laws of existence bent and twisted under the wills of the two combatants.

In this space, Gurnak’s domain appeared as a gravitational nexus, a swirling vortex that pulled everything into its dense, inescapable core. Vorenza’s domain, in contrast, was a labyrinth of webs that extended endlessly in all directions, ensnaring concepts and warping them to her advantage.

Ikenga’s attention briefly shifted to the goblin mage who had witnessed one of his eyes. Ikenga frowned, realizing the oversight. He had neglected to place a curse to conceal the eye’s presence, deeming it unnecessary at the time.

But now, he understood his mistake. The mage had seen too much, and that knowledge would inevitably complicate matters.

Still, what better way to make an entrance to a gathering of mages than having a massive eye watching from one of their moons?

Ikenga’s attention shifted to an intriguing figure discovered by his marked ratmen.

Having spent considerable time among demons, Ikenga had grown attuned to their energy signatures. This particular ratman was enveloped by a distinct demonic presence—one bearing the mark of a spider. Within the ratman, a seed-like structure was gestating, its essence unmistakably demonic.

Ikenga observed how the energy sought to corrupt the ratman, who, against all odds, clung desperately to his will. Yet Ikenga knew it was only a matter of time before the ratman’s resolve weakened.

The spider’s mark immediately brought to mind Vorenza, the spider demon queen. Was this her doing? Perhaps a contingency plan if she hadn’t survived her encounter with the mages?

A flicker of respect and irritation crossed Ikenga’s eyes. Demons truly are tenacious creatures, he mused. The more he studied them, the more their resilience impressed—and annoyed—him.

The mages seemed aware of this as well. The fire mages, in particular, had been thorough in incinerating every trace of the fifth-stage demon they had slain.

Keles, lying beside him, stirred. Ikenga noticed the look of annoyance clouding her face.

“What is it, Kel?” he asked.

“A waste,” Keles replied, her voice tinged with disgust.

“What’s a waste?” Ikenga asked, sitting up to face her.

“The gravity mage’s soul,” Keles sighed as she rose to a sitting position. Her bare upper body was a sight that momentarily distracted Ikenga.

“I feel like I’ve lost an opportunity to learn something about my divinity,” she continued. “This world has no realm of death, no underworld where souls go after they perish. Here, souls—depending on their strength before death—wander aimlessly, fragmented and incomplete, until they dissolve into energy to nourish the world.”

She paused, her tone shifting to one of frustration. “I am the goddess of darkness and death. In our world, the underworld manages souls without my interference, though it remains under my domain. This is the first time my divinity has spurred me to take direct action.”

Intrigued, Ikenga leaned closer. “We’ve witnessed countless deaths since arriving in this world, yet your divinity never reacted before. Do you think it’s connected to his strength?”

Keles frowned, a thoughtful expression overtaking her features. “That could be it. I’ve never had the chance to claim the soul of someone beyond the fifth stage.”

“What feelings did your divinity convey to you?” Ikenga pressed.

“A deep hunger,” Keles murmured, her brow furrowed. “Not a physical hunger, but a… yearning. A void that recognized a kindred spirit, a power that resonated with my own. It was as if a piece of myself was just out of reach, a potential that slipped through my fingers.” She looked at Ikenga, her eyes filled with a strange mixture of frustration and fascination. “It was almost… painful.”

Ikenga considered this. “So, your divinity recognized a connection to the gravity mage’s soul, specifically because of its power level?”

Keles nodded slowly. “It seems so. Souls of lesser beings simply dissipate, their energy returning to the world without a trace. But this… this was different. It was a soul of immense power, a soul that held a fragment of something… more. Something akin to divinity itself. And it was… wasted.”

She rose to her feet, pacing restlessly. “My own domain is order within death. The natural cycle, the balance. To shepherd souls to their proper rest, to guide them through the transition. It is a sacred duty, a fundamental law of existence. But this world… it denies that. It leaves these powerful souls adrift, fragmented, denying them the natural progression, the peace that should be their due.” She stopped, her gaze fixed on the smoldering remains of the battlefield. “It’s an insult, Ikenga. An insult to the very concept of death itself.”

She turned back to him, her expression hardening. “Vorenza… she would have devoured it. Consumed that immense power, twisting it to her own ends. It’s a grotesque perversion of the natural order.” A shudder ran through her. “But even worse… even if it had simply dissipated into the world… it would have been a tragedy. Such a potent soul, denied the experience of the afterlife, denied the embrace of true death. It’s like denying a king his rightful burial, leaving his spirit to wander the earth in torment.”

Ikenga understood now. It wasn’t about Vorenza gaining power, or even about Keles’s own power being diminished. It was about the fundamental injustice of denying such a powerful soul its rightful passage. “So, it’s not about preventing Vorenza from gaining strength, but about… ensuring the natural order is upheld?”

Keles met his gaze, her eyes filled with a deep sorrow. “It is about more than just preventing Vorenza from getting stronger. It is about the soul itself. Such a powerful being, denied the natural cycle, the journey beyond. It is an affront to my very nature. My divinity aches for it, not to possess it, but to guide it, to offer it the peace it deserves.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “In our world, every soul, regardless of their station in life, experiences the afterlife. It is a fundamental right. But here… here, that right is denied to the most powerful of them all. It’s a profound loss.”

Ikenga placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I understand,” he said softly. “It’s not about power, but about principle. About respecting the natural order of things.”

“But,” Ikenga’s tone turned serious, causing Keles to look at him, her brow furrowed. “You should never let it drive you out of your character. This is what makes us different from normal ascended gods who are driven by their divinity. We are origin gods, and divinity is a right born with us; we command our divinity.”

“I am happy that you got to experience such feelings and emotions,” he continued, his voice hardening, “but seeing as you are so deeply affected by these emotions, I have to interfere, sister.”

The shift in address, the absence of the familiar ’Kel,’ made Keles frown, a chill creeping down her spine. Ikenga’s stoic, almost cold eyes staring into hers showed he didn’t care for her discomfort. “I had a similar experience in the abyssal layer we found ourselves in. My divinity resonated with it, feeling it lacking in the natural order which I could provide.”

“It was quite the novel feeling and experience,” he admitted, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, “but unlike you, I didn’t let those feelings consume me. I observed and communicated instead, which made me learn that if I had acted on my divinity’s impulses, my connection to our world would have been severed, and I would have become the nature of the abyss itself.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep