The Guardian gods-Chapter 237

The Artist tried to summon another illusion, his brush moving frantically across the canvas. But the Tragic Failure, their hands twisted and useless, used their entire body to tackle him, slamming him into the ground with all the force they could muster.

The Artist’s head hit the floor with a sickening crack, but instead of lying still, he snarled, his hollow eyes burning with rage. They were cursed beings, and such a blow could not end them. He thrust his brush upward, stabbing it into the Tragic Failure’s shoulder. The Tragic Failure screamed in pain but did not relent, their twisted hands gripping the Artist’s throat with ironclad determination.

The Artist’s eyes bulged as he struggled for breath. He painted desperately on the floor with his free hand, the colors forming tendrils that wrapped around the Tragic Failure’s limbs, trying to pull them off. The Tragic Failure, however, was driven by a lifetime of despair and unfulfilled dreams. They summoned every ounce of their willpower, their body shaking with the effort.

The tendrils tightened, squeezing the life out of the Tragic Failure, but they refused to let go. They headbutted the Artist, their foreheads cracking together. The Artist’s concentration faltered, and the tendrils loosened their grip.

With one final, desperate effort, the Tragic Failure twisted, using the weight of their body to snap the Artist’s neck. The Artist’s eyes widened in shock, his body convulsing before going limp. But even this was not enough to kill a cursed being. The Artist’s body began to twitch, slowly mending itself. His paint brush can be seen drawing in the air the exact same thing happening right now.

Realizing he needed to act quickly, the Tragic Failure summoned the last of his strength, channeling his despair into a haunting, ghostly form. This spectral presence emerged from their body, enveloping the Artist. The spectral figure, embodying the weight of the Tragic Failure’s lost dreams, began to drain the Artist’s life force.

The Artist screamed as the spectral figure tightened its grip, drawing out his arrogance and cruelty. His body convulsed violently, the life force being torn from him. With a final, guttural scream, the Artist’s body went limp, the spectral figure dissipating as the Tragic Failure collapsed beside him.

The curse Inside of talent left his fallen form as it went into failure who immediately began undergoing transformation. The once frail and shaky figure now stands taller, with an aura of newfound confidence and vigor. His twisted fingers straighten out, becoming elegant and dexterous. The cloudiness in his eyes clears, revealing a sharp, intense gaze filled with a blend of sorrow and newfound purpose.

His physique, while healthier and more robust, still shows signs of the frailty they once endured, making them appear both formidable and tragically beautiful.

His clothing transformed into something that combines tattered elements with vibrant, artistic embellishments. An ethereal brush, glowing with a soft but radiant energy, hangs at his side.

Ikenga form disappeared from his sitting place as he appeared before Thomas, Placing a hand on his shoulder Ikenga said with a smile "Like your other siblings, You are to take a new moniker which is "The Despairing Virtuoso" entity that embodies both the brilliance and arrogance of unparalleled talent, and the crushing despair of mediocrity and failure"

Thomas nodded, accepting his new name, Ikenga turned back to see Boros snake head closer to him, at the same time a face grew out from Osisi tree form. They both are now fully awake. Their awakening Immediately caused a commotion among the cursed spirits present as they began roaring or rather cursing out inexplicable disturbing words that Ikenga and other cursed beings present found sweet to the ear.

Ikenga seeing that smiled as he turned to Thomas "This is such a beautiful sight and i want to capture it, Include yourself in it"

Thomas, understanding Ikenga words nodded as his palette appeared before him, he looked around only to see he had no paper which Ikenga helped as he snapped his hand as a huge paper appeared before Thomas.

For this time in Thomas’ life, he felt confident as his brush dipped into Palette as he began drawing. The whole realm fell silent as Thomas did his work and soon the drawing paper began glowing with a deep Purple gold light.

The paper unfolded presenting a sight that would scare any mortal but to everyone present they all had a smile on their face. Ikenga laughed as the paper divided with each cursed being having a piece in their hand.

Boros’ form shrinked as he turned into a green light wrapping herself all over Ikenga. She looked at the curses she gave birth too, happiness filled her very being as she thought to herself "I have proved myself useful to him, that means I get to stay near him a bit longer"

Boros has been with Ikenga for the longest as she rarely leaves his side, she has learnt a lot about him during that process. While her creator tends to present himself as someone kind, because of the nature of what he is from birth "A god" Kindness was the limit he has for most beings even for his own child.

Ikenga has a deep curiosity of things and always liked being surprised even though he doesn’t show it. He has deep appreciation for those with talent and is able to make good use of it.

Thinking back on the annoying bird, she can only conclude his absence from the realm being that he has achieved nothing over the long years and knowing Ikenga he doesn’t mind, but Boros knows that for existence like her and Tweet. Ikenga not minding is not what they want as that means they can no longer be near his grace.

It truly is funny to Boros because Ikenga’s action of not minding is the greatest gift to most because that means you are truly free to act on your own will without his influence. Freedom was a new concept Boros has observed most humans were obsessed with.

At first she looked down on this concept but over the years she found herself beginning to like and accept this concept because While Ikenag never took away her freedom and she was allowed to do whatever she wanted.

Being near a being as Ikenga made her feel like she always had to be above and beyond in everything, even though Ikenga himself never made her request. But after the first 10 years after Ikenag went to sleep, Boros came to understand the concept of freedom as she started feeling like she no longer had anything to prove.

Yet when Ikenga woke up from his sleep and she tried heading back to his realm yet for some reason couldn’t, she began missing being near him, falling asleep with him on a tree.

As Boros pondered these thoughts, she felt a sudden tug in her essence. The green light surrounding Ikenga flickered. She realized she had formed a deeper bond with him than she initially understood. This bond was both a blessing and a curse, tying her to Ikenga in ways that both comforted and constrained her.

A soft whisper echoed in her mind, "Boros, why do you cling to me so?" It was Ikenga’s voice, gentle yet probing.

Boros hesitated, then responded, "Because being near you gives me purpose. I’ve seen the world and tasted freedom, but it’s your presence that grounds me."

Ikenga’s silence was contemplative. When he finally spoke, his tone was softer than before. "You have always been free, Boros. My presence should not be a chain, but a sanctuary. Find your own path, and if it leads you back to me, it will be because you truly desire it, not because you need it."

Boros felt a warmth spread through her being. She understood now. Freedom was not just the absence of constraints but the presence of choice. And her choice, for now, was to stay by Ikenga’s side, not out of necessity, but out of genuine desire.

Ikenga looked back at the cursed beings who were staring at him with confusion. "I am sure you are all puzzled as to why you were initially summoned here."

Pointing at Boros and Osisi, Ikenga continued, "It was because of the awakening of these two, who are responsible for the birth of cursed spirits. But it was also time for the advancement of the cursed system."

The Covetous Leviathan stepped forward, its voice a low growl. "Advancement of the cursed system? What does that mean for us?"

Ikenga nodded. "You all know the reason why curses came to be in the first place. Your current existence is a reflection of twisted aspects of human desires and ambitions."

"Wealth—the Covetous Leviathan," Ikenga began, pointing to each one in turn. "Beauty—the Enchanting Siren, Power—the Tyrannical Juggernaut, Knowledge—the All-Knowing Oracle, Fame—the Spotlight Phantom, and Talent—the Despairing Virtuoso. Each of you embodies the dark side of these aspects."