Chapter 433: 433

Ikem’s ascension caught the attention of the other demigods who reached their goal at the same time as he did and was experiencing the same thing he was.

Ursula on her own path on her continent, brought her to a place of fire, with Lava mountain spread around. The place trembled with heat as Ursula made her way across a landscape that no mortal could tread.

Towering lava mountains loomed in the distance, rivers of thick, molten magma carving their paths through the scorched terrain. The air shimmered with unbearable heat, the very ground pulsating with raw, untamed fire. Any ordinary being would have been reduced to ashes upon stepping foot in this place.

But Ursula?

She walked with a smile.

The searing flames, the scorching air, the overwhelming radiance of destruction—it should have devoured her. And yet, as she stepped across the magma lake, the fire did not consume her.

It embraced her.

The heat, once a source of pain, now felt like a warm breeze against her skin. The flames curled around her, licking at her form like affectionate spirits welcoming her home. And as she took another step, she felt it—the fire awakening.

She was no longer merely walking through this inferno.

She was calling it to life.

The fire elements stirred, their flickering presence drawn to her, whispering in tongues of flame. And then, the world around her shuddered, and a question resonated within her very soul—

“What type of god do you imagine yourself to be?”

Ursula stilled.

For a moment, the question almost made her laugh. If only Ikem were here. He would have seen the purest joy she had ever felt, the radiant happiness that rarely graced her features. This was what true freedom felt like.

And yet, she hesitated.

She sometimes resented being a demigod. Not because she did not love her people, her children, or the divine blood that ran through her veins—no, she cherished them more than anything. But she loathed the constant political games, the exhausting maneuvering required to ensure their safety.

She was not a leader.

She was not the wise ruler her people deserved.

And if not for her prideful children and their unwavering faith in their lineage and her father, she might have simply led them into obscurity, allowing her people to be absorbed by stronger forces.

Ursula understood the necessity of power, but she despised it all the same. If she could have chosen, she would have walked a simpler path.

But godhood?

Godhood was a means to an end.

Just as she now walked across this lake of molten fire, basking in its warmth as though it were an extension of herself—so too did she want to step freely into her father’s realm.

A realm of searing, overbearing flames.

A place where, in her past, she had been burned.

Rejected.

For all her strength, she had once been deemed unworthy. The fire had scorched her flesh, tearing away at her pride, forcing her to acknowledge her own weakness.

That past? She wanted to erase it.

She wanted to spread her wings within that inferno, to let her father’s fire bathe her without pain, without rejection.

She wanted to prove herself—to him, to the world, but most of all, to herself.

And then, the answer came.

“Family.”

The flames surged in response.

For all the burdens she bore, nothing was more important to her than her family. Not just her children, but all of them.

Her cousins, her fellow demigods, her entire godling race.

She would be their warmth. Their comfort and strength.

A reminder that even divine families fracture, that even gods clash and wound one another.

But more than that—

She would embody the very essence of family itself.

The cycles of love and conflict. The ebbs and flows of kinship. The pain that sometimes divides, and the healing that brings them back together.

With mortals, she would be a beacon of resilience. A protector. A guide.

She understood that families were never perfect, but in their imperfection, they endured and that, above all else, was what mattered.

As the realization settled within her, the flames around her roared.

A vortex of gold and crimson fire spiralled into the heavens, carving a path through existence itself, reaching beyond the sky, beyond the realm of mortals—

As the firestorm surged, as Ursula’s revelation solidified within her soul, the flames around her shuddered. The molten rivers halted, their flow frozen in reverence. The air grew heavy, the very elements holding their breath.

And then—A presence emerged.

A light golden and warm, yet carrying the weight of eternity.

She had arrived.

The flames parted, bending away as Nana stepped forth.

She did not appear imposing, nor did she command attention with overwhelming force. Yet, the world itself bowed before her.

Where Nana walked, the fire whispered. The magma, once searing and wild, cooled beneath her steps, shifting into smooth, gleaming obsidian. The heat that had once felt welcoming to Ursula now became something else—something soothing, as though she had stepped into the embrace of a mother’s arms.

Nana’s face, carved with the wisdom of ages, bore the trace of an amused smile.

Her voice, soft yet resonant, drifted through the air.

“So, this is where your path has taken you.”

Ursula’s heart thundered in her chest.

She had always wanted to see her grandmother, she felt like if anyone among her family of gods would understanding her feeling about Family, it only would be Nana.

Nana was the quiet, ever-present force that guided.

The flame that illuminated but did not burn. The ember that never faded. She was the one who had lifted Ikem’s throne to the sky.

And now, she was here—standing before her.

Ursula clenched her fists. “Yes,” she said, her voice unwavering. “This is what I want.”

Nana chuckled softly. “I see that.” She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “But tell me, Ursula… What is it that you wish to build?”

The question carried no challenge, no doubt—only the quiet expectation that Ursula had already found her answer.

And she had.

With each step she had taken upon the burning earth, with each memory of her past pain, with every flicker of warmth that reminded her of what truly mattered…

She had already chosen.

“I will build a family,” Ursula declared, the very flames around her igniting anew in response. “A family that will stand together through love and pain. A family that will endure.”

Nana nodded and did something she never did before as she pulled Ursula into a hug before letting go with a smile.

“Then let us begin.”

She raised a single hand, her fingers trailing through the air like an artist painting upon an invisible canvas.

The ground beneath them rumbled.

The flames gathered, twisting into pillars of searing gold. The very magma itself rose, shifting and reshaping under Nana’s silent guidance.

And as she did with Ikem— She lifted Ursula’s throne into the heavens.

A great firestorm erupted, not in destruction, but in creation.

A mountain of flame and obsidian formed beneath Ursula’s feet, growing ever higher. The sky itself parted, the very fabric of the world making way for something greater.

Her throne. Forged from the very fires of the earth, it stood upon a foundation of molten stone and unwavering will. A monument not of dominion, but of endurance.

The fire embraced her, rising in great waves—carrying her upward.

Up, up, past the clouds, past the barriers of mortality.

Higher, to where she belonged. Before she went past the boundary she proclaimed to the world “I AM URSULA DAUGHTER OF THE SUN AND SKY GOD CREPUSCULAR AND NOW TO BE THE GODDESS OF THE ASCENDANT HEARTH & EVERFLAME BONDS”

As Nana watched, her expression never changed.

Only when Ursula’s flames reached the stars did she whisper—

“And so, another one rises.”

Ursula sat upon her newly risen throne, her body alight with divine fire. Yet, despite her ascension, her realm was desolate.

It seemed to stretch infinitely—a world of crimson skies, dark obsidian mountains, and endless plains of fire. But it was silent. Lifeless. A mere extension of her divinity, but not yet a home.

And she would not allow that.

With a deep breath, she placed her hands upon the armrests of her throne. Her flames spread outward—not in destruction, but in creation.

The first to answer her call was the guardian of her fire.

From the embers of her soul, the great Phoenix of the Everflame stirred.

It had always been there, a presence nestled deep within her being—an eternal flame of protection and renewal.

With a mighty cry, it spread its massive wings and took flight. Fire trailed in its wake as it soared into the empty sky, shaping it, defining it.

The once barren heavens became a celestial inferno, shifting in hues of red, gold, and orange. Like a hearth’s eternal blaze, the sky now burned with a comforting, unyielding light.

Ursula watched, smiling.

The Phoenix, now truly at home, became the guardian of her skies, a radiant presence that would never dim.

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