Chapter 450: 450

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a portal, a shimmering gateway to the spirit world. From within, the arch curses emerged, their presence immediately altering the atmosphere. The first to step through was the Enchanting Siren, a figure of captivating beauty that instantly drew the attention of every male god present. Even Flowua, her gaze typically reserved, found herself drawn to the Siren’s allure.

The other gods, mindful of their partners, remained steadfast in their affections, though their eyes couldn’t help but linger. The Siren, seemingly relishing the attention, accentuated her movements, her graceful walk and the subtle reveal of her long legs and thighs beneath her robe igniting a spark of desire.

Mahu, knowing the Siren’s penchant for causing trouble, cleared her throat, drawing the Siren’s attention. Having spent time with her, she was well aware of her mischievous nature. Pulling the Siren to the side, Mahu offered a reassuring smile to Ursula and Xerosis, who were both visibly fuming, their expressions a mix of annoyance and possessiveness.

Following the Siren’s grand entrance, the Covetous Leviathan lumbered through the portal, surrounded by a menagerie of animals: chickens, boars, deer, and cows. In his hands, he carried a basket overflowing with fruits of every imaginable color.

His first words, directed at Ursula, were a blunt, “Do you have a kitchen here?”

Ursula, taken aback by the figure drooling a viscous, golden liquid, clearly driven by insatiable hunger, replied, “No, I don’t. Didn’t think I had a need for that anymore.”

“Well, with me, you do,” the Leviathan declared, his voice a guttural rumble. He walked to a corner of the palace, setting down his basket. A chef’s apron materialized around his waist, followed by a tall chef’s hat. With a wave of his hand, a small, fully equipped kitchen set appeared before him. The animals that had accompanied him approached him one by one, meeting their fate as he swiftly and efficiently butchered and disemboweled them.

Ikem, noticing Ursula’s eyes twitching in disgust as blood splattered across the floor, intervened. With a flick of his wrist, a thick, red root emerged from the ground near the Leviathan, forming a gaping maw. The maw eagerly devoured the blood and discarded organs, cleaning the mess and restoring order to the palace floor.

The Leviathan seemed pleased, patting the maw like a pet before returning to his culinary endeavors.

Next to emerge from the portal was the Tyrannical Juggernaut. The clanging of his chains announced his arrival, accompanied by a palpable sense of oppressive pressure that permeated the palace. However, the pressure was not emanating from the Juggernaut himself, but rather, he was the one bearing the brunt of it.

The gods turned to the source of the pressure: Crepuscular. Xerosis, understanding the source of his anger, gently touched his hand. She knew he was reliving the memory of the Juggernaut’s brutal treatment of her during her trials. “It was necessary,” she said softly.

Crepuscular scoffed, the oppressive pressure dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. The Juggernaut, his expression unchanged by the tense exchange, continued his walk, stopping beside Xerosis. He offered a slight bow to Crepuscular, acknowledging his presence with a respectful, “Your grace.”

Jaws erupted in laughter, his booming voice cutting through the remaining tension. “I like the boy,” he declared, followed by another round of laughter that helped to clear the lingering atmosphere of unease.

The last two to emerge from the spirit world portal were the Despairing Virtuoso and the All-Knowing Oracle. They entered together, their contrasting presences adding another layer of intrigue to the gathering. The Virtuoso clutched a plain sheet of paper, his expression a mask of melancholic contemplation. The Oracle, in contrast, carried a basket filled with vibrant fruits, plucked from the bountiful realm of Ikenga.

Björn, observing the newly arrived cursed beings, licked his lips, a flicker of dark interest in his eyes. “How the abyss would like children such as this,” he mused to himself, his thoughts laced with a mixture of curiosity and a predatory hunger.

The gods began to mingle, a strange mix of familial warmth and divine formality filling the air. Flowua, still clinging to Jaws, regaled him with tales of her latest escapades, while Tide and Maul engaged in a silent, unspoken conversation, their eyes conveying more than words ever could. Crepuscular remained a stoic presence, his gaze occasionally flickering towards Xerosis, who stood beside the Juggernaut, their silent understanding a stark contrast to the lively chatter around them.

Meanwhile, the Leviathan, oblivious to the social dynamics, began his culinary performance. The aroma of sizzling meat and exotic spices wafted through the palace, a stark contrast to the usual ethereal scents of the realm. The gods, accustomed to sustaining themselves on pure energy, found themselves strangely drawn to the enticing smells. Even the origin gods, who had long since abandoned the need for sustenance, felt a stirring of primal hunger.

The Leviathan’s cooking created a sensation. It was a spectacle of raw, primal energy transformed into delectable dishes. The animals, once living creatures, were now transformed into culinary masterpieces, their flavors enhanced by the Leviathan’s unique touch.

The aroma caused a chorus of rumbling stomachs, and the gods, surprised by their own reactions, found themselves drawn to the Leviathan’s makeshift kitchen. Ursula, noticing the growing hunger among her guests, particularly the origin gods who seemed to be fighting a long forgotten urge, turned to Ikem with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Ikem,” she said, her voice laced with a playful demand, “I believe you have some of your ’special’ vintage hidden away.”

Ikem, who had been discreetly trying to keep his prized wine collection a secret, let out a sigh of resignation. He had known this moment would come. “Ursula,” he protested, “that wine is for… special occasions.”

“And what could be more special than this?” Ursula countered, gesturing towards the gathering. “Besides, everyone is hungry, and a good wine will complement the Leviathan’s cooking perfectly.”

The other gods, sensing Ikem’s reluctance, joined in the chorus of requests. Even Jaws, who rarely indulged in such pleasures, seemed intrigued by the prospect of a good vintage. Ikem, outnumbered and outmaneuvered, finally relented, summoning a collection of exquisitely crafted bottles from his realm. The air filled with the rich, fruity aroma of aged wine, adding another layer of sensory delight to the already intoxicating atmosphere.

Björn, a demon with a history of conflict and mistrust with the other gods, found himself experiencing an unexpected sense of tranquility. The warmth of the hearth, the tantalizing aroma of the Leviathan’s cooking, and the easy camaraderie of the gathering combined to create an atmosphere that was surprisingly soothing. He watched as the gods interacted, their laughter and conversation filling the space, and he felt a strange sense of detachment, yet also a subtle connection.

He observed the Leviathan’s culinary artistry, the primal energy of the cooking resonating with his own demonic nature. The raw power of the transformation, the way the animals were rendered into something both beautiful and delicious, was a spectacle he found strangely compelling.

As the wine flowed and the food was served, Björn found himself relaxing, the tension that usually coiled within him easing. He even found himself engaging in small talk, offering brief, gruff comments on the food and wine. He spoke to the Juggernaut, acknowledging his strength and resolve, and he exchanged a few words with the Oracle, his curiosity piqued by his enigmatic pronouncements.

He found himself drawn to the warmth of the hearth, its flames dancing and crackling, casting a comforting glow over the gathering. He felt a sense of belonging, however fleeting, a moment of peace amidst the chaos of his existence. He even found himself laughing, a low rumble in his chest, as Jaws regaled the group with a boisterous tale.

The gauntlet on his hand, usually a source of constant pain and agitation, remained calm, its fiery energy subdued. Björn realized that for the first time in a long time, he was not consumed by anger or resentment. He was simply present, enjoying the moment, a rare and unexpected experience for the demon god. He even allowed himself to take a small glass of Ikem’s wine, savoring the rich, complex flavors, a small gesture of acceptance and participation. He was a demon, but he was also a guest, and for this moment, he allowed himself to be both.

Björn cleared his throat, a bit drunk as he said “Let me offer a small piece of advice as a gift for the great time and accomodation”

The lively chatter of the gathering ceased abruptly, and all eyes turned towards him. The atmosphere shifted from relaxed joviality to attentive silence.

Björn, his gaze sweeping across the newly ascended gods, began, “My advice pertains to what comes with being an ascended god. This knowledge comes as a result of mistakes made by ascended gods after their ascension.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. “Many ascended gods have been tricked by tales of what a god means, and in turn, behave that way. There is a stark difference between being born as a god and ascending to be one.”

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