The Guardian gods-Chapter 760

He descended toward the planet, claws digging into the ethereal barrier that enveloped Nana, and began to tear it apart, rending the fabric of reality itself. The sight left his siblings frozen, awe and shock painted across their faces.

"I don’t have the brains of our little brother," Crepuscular said, his voice clear even in the void. "He may have found a better solution in this situation, but he is not here. It would be a shame for me as an older sibling to let there be no home left for him and our sister to return to."

As the rupture widened, a glimpse of the Upside-Down World became visible, a shadowed, inverted mirror of reality, distant yet impossibly close. Beneath their gaze, the pillars that had been erected by ascending demigods trembled violently. Their purpose was clear: to maintain the boundary between worlds, to resist incursions like this. Yet Crepuscular’s power was absolute; cracks began to splinter across their surfaces. Two of the towers shattered entirely, unable to withstand the strain as the rift grew ever larger.

Without hesitation, Crepuscular launched himself through the opening, wings slicing through the void as he dove toward the Upside-Down World. Here, he would face their dark counterpart directly, taking initiative for the first time in this eternal confrontation of theirs.

He understood the stakes clearly, for the cosmic order to remain unbroken in their world, the source of the chaos had to be neutralized. That source was clear Osita, driven to destruction by the Dark Gods, whose actions had sparked the rise of both Judges and Hegemons. Only by halting the devastation at its root could he ensure that neither force would have reason to fully manifest in Nana, preventing the world from becoming a battlefield for cosmic enforcers of order and dominion alike.

A voice thundered through the void, cutting through the brilliance of Crepuscular’s descent. Jaus shed his mortal guise, revealing his true form, a colossal whale, its body as vast as the flaming phoenix before him. With a roar that shook the very edges of the gap, he charged forward.

"Don’t hog all the fun, brother!" Jaus bellowed, his tone playful but serious. "I’ve long wanted to smash the faces of those imitators!"

Mahu trembled as she watched her siblings transform, her own voice rising to reach the ears of every ascended god, both old and new.

"Take care," she said, her tone calm but urgent. "Keep this world safe while we are gone."

Then, like a living shard of moonlight, Mahu revealed her true form: a silver-white wolf, radiant and impossibly graceful. She leapt into the widening gap, and once fully through, she reached for the edges of the rift. With a force that radiated authority, she pulled the fabric of reality together, sealing the gap behind her. The world of Nana shuddered in relief, the crackling tension of the barrier easing under her touch.

Inside the Upside-Down World, Crepuscular’s attention was immediately drawn to the Dark Sun, a black star suspended in the void, radiating heat and corruption. The intensity of its flames made him scoff in contempt.

"How could such a disgrace be my counterpart?" he muttered, wings slicing through the inverted skies.

With a motion both casual and terrifying, he opened his massive beak and swallowed the Dark Sun whole, extinguishing its fiery malevolence as though it were no more than a bitter morsel.

But before he could fully savor his triumph, a massive force collided with him. A creature, bearing an uncanny resemblance to him and wreathed in dark flames, rammed headlong into his body. The impact sent shockwaves through the void, rippling across the edges of the Upside-Down World and echoing even through the sealed rift. Crepuscular’s eyes narrowed, fire flaring along his wings, as he braced for the counterattack.

Crepuscular’s counterpart engaged him with ferocious intensity, wings of fire clashing against shadows of darkness, igniting the void with every strike. Across another part of the Upside-Down World, the same chaos unfolded as the Origin Gods, though outnumbered two to one, tore through the landscape with unrestrained fury.

But the odds did nothing to dampen their resolve; if anything, it exhilarated them. For a millennium since they were born, they had never known a battle like this. Every strike, every surge of power reminded them of the thrill of true conflict, the pure, unbridled clash of forces that existed dormant in them.

Meanwhile, far from the immediate storm of combat, Murmur exhaled heavily. He felt a gnawing urgency deep within him, a pressure he could no longer ignore. The presence of both Judges and Hegemons manifesting as ripples in the cosmic order unverved him.

From the beginning, Murmur had known that dealing with the Dark Gods could only lead to uncontrollable chaos. He had still taken this path, and despite the devastation, it had been the correct choice. Yet the Dark Gods were still a wild, uncontrollable factor in the equation. Their influence could undo all of his carefully laid plans.

If the conflict continued unchecked, there would be nothing left for him, no power, no victories, no gains, only ash and ruin. Every strategy, every patient calculation would be meaningless if all that could have been won was destroyed in the storm of divine and infernal warfare.

Thankfully, he sensed a turning point. Osita’s battle, the catalyst for all this cosmic upheaval, was finally nearing its conclusion. A sliver of hope flickered in Murmur’s mind; the chaos might be contained, the forces he could not control might be held at bay.

After leaving Omadi’s kingdom behind, Osita began to truly comprehend the scope of what was happening. The words of the Dark Gods, twisted as they had seemed before, finally aligned in his mind.

He understood, with grim clarity, that he really had a role to play. Especially when the Dark Gods revealed their threat involving the still-living Amina, the consequences of refusal became undeniable. To survive and to keep the fragile lives of those he cared for intact, he would have to accompany them, to act as a participant in the game they orchestrated. And in doing so, he would fulfill the role that had been assigned to him from the moment the Dark Gods had chosen him as their amusement.

He also understood the cost. When the dust settled, when the world came to learn who was responsible for the sudden, incomprehensible deaths and devastation, it would be him. Osita, the reluctant pawn, would be hated, reviled, and feared.

It was at this time abruptly, the cackling Beast King froze midair. Osita hesitated, instincts screaming to strike, but he held back. The monstrous figure of the beast king began to crumble before his eyes, its body disintegrating into fragments as the Dark Gods let out a resigned sigh. The game, their amusement, was drawing to a close.

For a millennium, the Dark Gods had been confined, imprisoned behind the pillars the demigods had erected. They had languished in darkness, cut off from open sight of the world they longed to manipulate, forced into blindness. Until today, they had only been able to observe, to whisper, to plot.

But now, the veil had lifted. Their return had been subtle, deliberate and Osita, whether willingly or not, had become the catalyst for their resurgence.

Osita froze. Before him, the Beast King held Amina’s body by the throat, her unconscious form limp and fragile in its massive grasp. His heart clenched, every instinct screaming to act, but his eyes were locked on her face, on the life that still flickered faintly within her.

"Please," he whispered, voice raw with desperation. "Please... return her to me."

The Beast King tilted its head, the first hint of a serious tone since their encounters. With deliberate slowness, it tapped Amina’s forehead, and Osita felt it before he saw it, the pull of her soul, drawn out like a silver thread, shimmering in the void between life and death. His stomach dropped as her essence hovered in the Beast King’s grasp.

Then, with a cruel sort of precision, the Beast King let her lifeless body fall. Instinctively, Osita caught her, arms tightening around her fragile frame, but his gaze never wavered. All his attention, all his being, was fixed on her soul, held just out of reach like a prize.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, voice trembling, eyes blazing with restrained fury.

The Beast King’s gaze met his, serious and sharp. Its voice, multiple, overlapping, layered answered as one:

"Fulfilling our end of the deal."

Osita’s blood boiled. Every fiber of him wanted to strike, to obliterate the monstrosity before him, to end the existence of this being that toyed so mercilessly with him. And yet... he didn’t move. He couldn’t.

Because he could see her soul, tender, fragile, but whole. It was there. It was real. And as long as it was, there was hope.

He took a steadying breath, clutching Amina’s body tighter to his chest, and allowed himself a single, desperate thought: she was still there. That was enough... for now.