A small, glowing liquid of Soulburn Lotus Venom Fire floated within the cauldron. It had worked, despite the strange surge of energy.
He reached in carefully and retrieved the poison, holding it up to the moonlight. The liquid inside the glass veil shimmered dangerously, its violet hue casting eerie reflections on his face.
“Not Good. It’s not even 60% pure. Waste… Waste…”
Kent stood motionless, staring into the Phoenix Cauldron as the events of the last few minutes replayed in his mind.
He retraced every step of the process, from lighting the cauldron to adding the final ingredient. Every detail had been precise, yet something gnawed at him—a faint sense that he had missed something crucial. He clenched his fists, deep in thought.
“What mistake did I make?” Kent muttered to himself, frustration building as he tried to recall the exact moment when things had gone wrong.
“So, you’ve fallen into the same trap as the others, haven’t you?” Suddenly, from behind, a deep, thunderous voice broke the silence.
Kent didn’t flinch this time. He had grown accustomed to these sudden appearances. Turning slowly, he met the stormy gaze of the Storm God, who appeared in image form behind him, crackling with an aura of thunder and lightning.
“What trap?” Kent asked, his eyes locking with the Storm God’s, a hint of challenge in his voice.
The Storm God let out a booming laugh, his presence shaking the very air around them. “Hmmhh! Thirty-two Supreme Mages, each one with the potential to become a demigod, mastered that very Poison Tome. And each one of them fell. They died not by their enemies’ hands, but by their own. Tell me, is that not a trap?”
Kent narrowed his eyes. “Why did they die? Do you know the reason?”
The Storm God’s gaze grew serious as his voice rumbled like distant thunder. “They fell because they became victims of the very poison they sought to wield. Their arrogance led them to believe they could control it, even in the heat of battle. But poison is a double-edged sword. They misjudged their own strength and met their end by their own hands.”
Kent listened intently, a grim understanding settling in. He nodded slowly. “Thank you for the warning. But now, tell me why you’re here.”
The Storm God stared into Kent’s eyes for a long moment, as if weighing his words. Finally, his deep voice echoed, “I’m here on behalf of the War God. As you requested, the terms have changed. The War God has offered you a chance to fight for the position of Nine Realms Head.”
Kent’s expression hardened, but he said nothing as the Storm God continued.
“The War God seeks to surpass the upcoming calamity. Once he does, he will join the Old Gods, abandoning his seat. That means there will be a competition for the head of the Nine Realms. Currently, it’s between myself and the Poison God.” The Storm God’s eyes flashed with intensity. “But now, you, Kent, can also compete for this position.”
Before Kent could respond, another voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the air.
“Enough with your nonsense!” The Lust Goddess appeared in spirit form, her presence radiating heat and desire as she stepped forward, her eyes burning with defiance.
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She moved gracefully, her form shimmering like fire in the night. “You, too, have lingered at the level of demigod for thousands of years. You speak of strength, knowledge, and power, but how dare you suggest Kent compete with you and the Poison God? Are you mocking him? Are you mocking me?”
Her voice was filled with venom, her frustration palpable. She turned toward Kent, her expression fierce. “Kent, how can you even consider this? Competing with these ancient gods? Do not be swayed by their tricks!”
But before she could continue, the Storm God interrupted her with a raised hand. “My lady, calm yourself. The War God knows full well that we have accumulated vast strength over these long years. That is why he proposed a fair contest. All of us—myself, the Poison God, and Kent—will be reincarnated into new forms.
We will live new lives for exactly thirty-three years, and at the end of that time, we will compete based only on the strength we gained during those years.”
The Lust Goddess fell silent, her eyes narrowing as she considered his words. The air between the three of them grew thick with tension.
“No tricks, no false play,” the Storm God continued, his voice steady. “Each of us will have to earn our strength anew. This is the War God’s decree, and his rules will be enforced by the Old Gods themselves. It is a rare chance to compete on equal ground. For all of us.”
Kent glanced at the Lust Goddess, waiting for her response. Her eyes flickered between Kent and the Storm God, still seething, but slowly cooling. Finally, she spoke.
“If this is the War God’s decree, then so be it,” she said, her voice softer but still sharp. “But understand this—if there is even the slightest hint of deception, I will not hesitate to tear apart your essence myself. There will be no backstabbing. No games. Do you hear me?”
The Storm God bowed his head slightly, a rare sign of respect. “Understood. The terms are fair, and they will be honored by all.”
The Lust Goddess eyed him for a moment longer, then nodded. “Very well. I will accept this proposal.”
Before leaving, the Storm God turned to Kent once more, his expression grim. “One last thing, Kent. The upcoming calamity will involve all nine realms. The War God has foreseen it. He will offer you assistance when the time comes, but be warned—this is a trial like no other. The fate of entire realms will rest on how we navigate this calamity.”
Kent watched as the Storm God’s form flickered, his thunderous presence beginning to fade.
“Prepare yourself,” the Storm God said, his voice distant but heavy with meaning. “The calamity might take your life. So, take the first step and control the situation from your side.”
With that, the Storm God vanished, leaving Kent alone with the Lust Goddess.
“Reincarnation…” Kent whispered, his mind already racing with plans.