The Guardian gods-Chapter 233

There will be no Chapter tomorrow and the next, experiencing a bad network situation.

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With a final, crushing squeeze, Thaddeus snapped her neck. Elsha’s body went limp, her chains falling to the ground with a heavy clatter. Thaddeus dropped her lifeless form, panting heavily. He stood over her, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his wounds.

As Thaddeus stood over Elsha’s lifeless body, a strange energy began to emanate from the defeated queen. The air around them shimmered, and Thaddeus felt an overwhelming surge of power flow into him. The curse that had bound Elsha, now seeking a new vessel, latched onto Thaddeus. His form began to shift and change, embodying the essence of both his own curse and the remnants of Elsha’s tyranny.

Thaddeus grew even larger, his muscles expanding further, making him a towering figure of raw power and dominance. His posture became more upright and regal, blending his brute strength with a newfound sense of authority.

Elsha’s chains wrapped around Thaddeus’s arms and torso, melding into his flesh. They became part of his new armor, dark and twisted, reinforcing his already formidable physique. The crown of thorns shifted, creating a circlet of sharp, metallic spikes around his head, symbolizing his newfound rule and control.

Thaddeus’s eyes now glowed with a piercing, icy blue light, reflecting the cold calculation and ruthlessness of Elsha. His presence exuded a crushing weight of tyranny and fear, making anyone who looked at him feel an instinctive urge to submit or flee. The scars and pulsating veins on his body became more pronounced, glowing faintly with an eerie, dark energy. They pulsed rhythmically.

Smirking at the new strength flowing inside of him, a thought couldn’t help but sprout on Thaddeus’ head as he looked up at Ikenga with a challenging look on his face.

Ikenga seeing raised a brow as he looked into Thaddeus glowing blue eyes, the curses who were making noises enjoying the ritual taking place all turned silent, the other cursed beings were looking at both Ikenga and Thaddeus.

Thaddeus meanwhile was now sweating, in his eyes a giant whose height was unknown to him stretched out a huge furry ape-like arm petting his head.

Thaddeus could do nothing but stand still and let the giant do what it wanted, meanwhile on the outside everyone available saw Thaddeus take a knee as he bowed towards Ikenga.

"I like you" Was what Ikenga said as he began laughing and swinging his feet like a kid from the tree branch.

"You are to take the moniker of "The Tyrannical Juggernaut ", a domineering figure that embodies the resentment towards those who wield power oppressively. A towering, unstoppable force that embodies physical power and the wrath it provokes" A big root extended from Osisi all the way to Thaddeus for him to use to walk up where the others victors are.

Vesper was born into a modest family in a small town, yet from a young age, he harbored grand dreams of fame and adoration. He excelled in the local theater, his performances captivating audiences and earning him small-scale recognition. But Vesper was not content with merely local fame; he yearned for the adulation of the masses.

As he grew older, Vesper moved to the city, where opportunities for stardom abounded. He quickly rose through the ranks of the entertainment industry, his charm and talent opening doors. However, Vesper’s ascent was not solely due to his abilities. He was willing to employ any means necessary to achieve his goals. He spread malicious rumors about rivals, sabotaged performances, and ingratiated himself with influential figures, using deceit and manipulation to secure his position, Even his own body was a means for him to achieve his goals.

Noctus, originally named Elias, was born into a reputable family known for their contributions to the arts and academia. The family was also famous for their mastery of light and healing magic, revered by the people for generations. Elias, however, never quite fit the mold set by his family. Despite his efforts to live up to their expectations, he often found himself overshadowed by his more successful siblings and peers.

Elias’s life took a turn for the worse when he was falsely accused of practicing necromancy and performing forbidden resurrection spells. In a world where magic was revered but certain practices were deeply frowned upon, the use of necromancy, especially the resurrection of the dead, was considered abhorrent and taboo. Elias’s colleague, envious of his potential and the prestige of his family, framed him by planting necromantic artifacts and corpses in his workshop.

Vesper, his face shifting through a myriad of features as he stands flamboyantly dressed in a spotlight that seems to follow him wherever he moves. "Ah, another player on this cursed stage. How quaint. Tell me, shadowy stranger, what drives you in this forsaken realm? A failed dream, perhaps?"

Noctus clad in shadowy robes, his face a blurred, ever-shifting mask of anonymity. "I am Noctus, cursed to be scorned and humiliated for eternity. And you? What facade do you hide behind, fame seeker?"

Vesper answered "I am Vesper, the one who craves the spotlight, even in this darkened world. Fame is my curse, but it is also my strength. But tell me, Noctus, how does it feel to be eternally overshadowed? To never be recognized for who you truly are?"

"Recognition? What a hollow desire. I was once Elias, a name that held meaning, until it was smeared by lies and envy. And you, Vesper? How many people have you stepped on to climb your ladder of fame? How empty does it feel at the top?" Noctus said back to him.

Vesper his face briefly flickers with a hint of bitterness before returning to a composed façade. "Empty? Perhaps. But better to be seen and remembered than to fade into obscurity. At least I have left a mark, unlike you, who hides in the shadows of disgrace."

Noctus tilted his head to the side "A mark? More like a stain. Fame built on deceit and manipulation is as fragile as a house of cards. How does it feel, knowing your admirers would turn on you in an instant if they knew the truth?"

Vesper laughs lightly, though the sound carries a hint of strain. "You speak as if you know me, Noctus. But tell me, how does it feel to be falsely accused? To live a life where every glance is filled with suspicion and disdain? Do you ever dream of redemption, or have you accepted your fate as a scapegoat?"

Noctus had a dark aura that began to emanate from him, the shadows around him growing darker and more oppressive. "Redemption? A fool’s hope. I live for the day I can expose the truth, to make those who wronged me suffer. And you, Vesper? Do you ever tire of the charade, the constant need to be someone you’re not?"

Vesper with a dramatic flourish, his appearance shifts to mimic Noctus’s blurred face, his voice mocking. "Charade? Every actor knows the stage is both a lie and the truest form of self. But you, Noctus, you hide in the shadows, never daring to step into the light. How does it feel to be a coward?" freёwebnoѵel.com

"Coward? I face my curse head-on, embracing the darkness that surrounds me. Unlike you, clinging to your illusions of grandeur. The light you seek is a mirage, Vesper, and it will leave you blind and alone." Noctus said while pointing at Vesper.

Vesper his expression hardens, the playful tone gone. "Blind, perhaps. But never alone. Even now, in this cursed realm, I am remembered. But you? You will fade into nothingness, a whisper in the dark."

Noctus shook his head as he responded "A whisper, maybe. But a whisper can become a roar. Prepare yourself, Vesper. The shadows will reveal the truth of who we are."

Vesper with a steely determination, his face shifting to his true form. "Then let us see, Noctus. Let the final act commence, and may the true self prevail."

Ikenga eyes flashed purple as a message was relayed to him from the curse inhabiting the seeker. Not minding the request, Ikenga nodded.

With Ikenga confirmed, the forest battlefield changed into a stage. The Seeker of Fame struts onto the stage, his flamboyant attire glittering under the dim lights that flicker erratically. His face shifts through a myriad of well-known personas, each more dazzling than the last. He revels in the spotlight, basking in the imagined adulation of an audience that no longer exists.

From the shadows, the Shunned Outcast emerges, his form barely visible, cloaked in darkness. His face is a blur, a shifting mass of anonymity and disgrace. He moves silently, a stark contrast to the Seeker’s ostentatious display.

With a flick of his wrist, the Seeker unleashes Blinding Radiance, a flash of light so intense it would blind any ordinary foe. But the Outcast, accustomed to the darkness, shuts his eyes just in time and disappears into the shadows.

The Seeker laughs, the sound echoing eerily through the empty hall. He turns, his face now that of a renowned warrior, and prepares for an assault. But the Outcast strikes first, his Phantom Strike cutting through the air with deadly precision. The Seeker staggers back, a thin line of blood appearing on his cheek.