Nine-Mountain Castle…
Inside the grand central hall, the War God sat with a grim face. Seated nearby, the Storm God tapped his fingers on a marble table.
“You’re certain the Space God is conspiring against you?” the Storm God asked, glancing at the War God with narrowed eyes. “He’s always been cunning, but this seems bold.”
The War God exhaled slowly. “The space god sees my path to Old-Godhood as a threat to his own ambitions. My scouts claim he’s already approached all demi-gods and several lower gods.”
“Foolish,” the Storm God muttered. “He underestimates your standing.”
Before the War God could respond, the doors swung open in hurry.
A woman of breathtaking beauty stepped inside. She wore only golden ornaments draped across her body. Her eyes flashed with confidence, yet humility guided her steps. She knelt at a distance, head bowed low.
“Arise,” the War God commanded.
She rose smoothly, the golden chains rippling across her arms and waist. “My lords, I bear news from the Nine Realms War. The conflict has concluded. The sworn wizards emerged victorious. Kent stood triumphant, and Jason Mama… he was slain on the battlefield. Drona Lionheart himself arrived at the war’s climax and ended Jason Mama with a single spear. Afterward, the sworn wizards took control of the seventh realm. Ryon Lionheart was captured and cast into a dark cell.”
The War God nodded once, a faint trace of relief crossing his stern features. But a flicker of doubt lingered in his eyes. “Then it’s done. The war that threatened the Nine Realms is finished… but does that truly mean the calamity is over?”
The Storm God, face aglow with relief, leaned closer. “Why wouldn’t it be? Our greatest obstacle lay in the old Nine Realms Association and their figurehead, Jason Mama. With him gone, who in the world dares defy Kent in the lower realms? Rejoice, War God. Your path to Old Godhood stands clear.”
Yet the War God’s shoulders remained tense. “I appreciate your optimism, but I recall my father’s words: ‘Beware the illusions of victory, for some storms hide behind bright skies.’ I can’t shake the sense that this resolution came too smoothly.”
“You act as if you’re expecting another war any moment.” Storm god said.
“We have endured lesser conflicts. My father, the Fate God, warned me that a true calamity might not be so easily averted. The Nine Realms War might have ended, but a deeper threat could still loom.”
“Then speak to him,” the Storm God replied, leaning on the marble table. “Surely the Fate God can confirm if the crisis is truly past.”
The War God nodded, stepping away from the throne dais. With that, the War God strode through a hidden archway leading into the depths of his mountainous fortress.
Finally, he arrived at a sealed door inscribed with swirling runes of cosmic significance. Placing his hand upon the cool metal, he whispered a single phrase that caused the door to creak open.
Inside, the War God entered a small circular chamber: The Temple of Fate. At its center stood a towering idol wrought in gold, depicting a robed figure clutching a scroll.
Dropping to one knee, the War God pressed his right palm to his chest. “Father, I call upon you.” His voice echoed, carrying a sense of reverence.
At first, there was silence. Then, an ethereal glow encircled the idol. A voice, neither loud nor soft, resonated in the War God’s mind.
“So, my son finally kneels before me again.” The Fate God’s tone was tinged with amusement.
A sense of warmth and dread mingled in the War God’s heart. “Father, the Nine Realms War is over. Kent stands as victor, Jason Mama lies dead. Is the calamity truly finished?”
A low chuckle filled the chamber. “If it were that simple, I would have told you to rejoice. But you know fate rarely bows to a single conflict. The doom you feared may be slowed, but not undone.”
The War God exhaled, anxiety tugging at his chest. “Kent overcame everything. He stands at the apex of mortal strength in the lower realms. If even that is insufficient—”
“Calamities arrive in many ways,” the Fate God replied. “Kent’s ascension changed the path of destiny. Even I see only fragments of what’s to come. But I sense this: The true calamity hasn’t yet shown its face. The day it does, no realm will be spared. Kent, too, must grow beyond what he is now.”
A cold knot of worry settled in the War God’s stomach. “Then the threat remains. And I must remain vigilant.”
“You must,” the Fate God said. “Even your path to Old Godhood is not secure. The illusions of peace can be more treacherous than open war. Still, you have time—time to muster allies, time to prepare for the unknown.”
“Then I heed your words, Father,” the War God said softly.
The glow around the idol dimmed, and the voice faded. The War God rose, his expression grim. The Fate God had given him enough to confirm his suspicions.
He left the Temple of Fate, retracing his steps through the hidden corridors until he reached the main hall once more. The Storm God waited, arms folded, scanning the War God’s face for answers.
“Well?” he prompted.
The War God shook his head. “It’s not over. The calamity we feared may have barely begun.”
The Storm God’s expression fell. “So your father confirmed it?”
“Confirmed enough,” the War God answered. “The Nine Realms War was but a surface-level storm. Something deeper and more dangerous lies on the horizon. We must remain on guard. We must watch Kent, for he holds the key to stabilizing—or destabilizing—this new era.”
A prolonged silence stretched.
“I only hope we’re ready when it arrives. And, I will do as you say. But let me ask you this: If the calamity is not over, do you believe Kent will be our shield… or a new source of chaos?”
The War God did not answer immediately. Instead, his gaze dropped to the floor. He remembered the Fate God’s words: that even gods could not halt destiny’s march.
He looked up, voice resolute but tinged with worry. “That depends on Kent’s choices, and perhaps on ours. If we fail to guide or stand by him, we may all pay the price.”