The Guardian gods-Chapter 794

The assembled gods, both the ascended and the Origin watched the void where Astraeus had vanished, a collective sense of satisfaction lingering in the air.

Yet, in the shadows, things were shifting. Deep within a hidden pocket of reality, Murmur stirred. He raised his head, and for a fleeting, moment, a jagged rift tore through the fabric of space. A colossal eye peered through the tear, surveying the cosmos before the rift snapped shut, sealing the intrusion as quickly as it had appeared.

In the wake of that gaze, a figure materialized. Osita stood there, his jaw tight, clicking his tongue in a display of raw, simmering annoyance. He made to lash out at the landscape, his fingers twitching with the urge to tear something apart, but he checked himself. The Origin gods were in motion, the gears of a larger game were turning, and he knew better than to reveal his hand so prematurely. With a flick of his energy, he vanished into the ether.

Back in the clearing, the air grew thin as the Origin gods prepared to depart.

"We now have to play our part," Crepuscular said, his voice cold and final before his form dissipated into stardust.

Mahu lingered for a moment, casting a long, unreadable look toward Ikenga. Without a word, she faded from existence. Keles followed suit, her presence dissolving like mist in a gale.

Jaus was the last to go, his silhouette already beginning to fray at the edges when Ikenga spoke. "Brother. It has been a long time since we truly spoke, just us. Would you accompany me?"

Jaus paused. He looked at Ikenga, his arms tightly folded across his chest, his expression guarded. After a long beat, he gave a curt, stiff nod. The two of them drifted together, gliding through the silent air, leaving the world below, heading for the stars.

"You must know why I requested this conversation," Ikenga said, his voice low, cutting through the silence of the void.

Jaus didn’t break his stride, his gaze fixed on the infinite horizon ahead. "My actions during the meeting," he stated, his tone devoid of warmth. "They have you worried."

"I’ve been thinking about it," Ikenga said, his voice contemplatery "Why you fought against all of this. You were worried about Tide. You knew that if he continued as he was, stagnant, unproven he would be among the first to fall when the new era comes."

Jaus didn’t flinch. He turned to face Ikenga, his eyes calm, though deep within those irises, the telltale flicker of jagged lightning betrayed his internal unrest.

Ikenga offered a faint, melancholy smile and looked away, toward the vast, swirling curtain of the cosmos. "Have you spoken with him?"

"I did," Jaus replied.

"And?"

Jaus sighed,"Not everyone is like you, brother. You have a gift for knowing the right thing to say at the right time. You weave words as easily as you weave fate." He spoke without heat, there was no animosity in his tone, only the weary resignation of a parent watching a child walk toward a precipice.

Ikenga shook his head. If only Jaus knew. He didn’t possess any innate divine wisdom, he was simply drawing upon the hard-won lessons and cold observations of his previous life, a perspective that felt increasingly alien to his divine siblings.

"I know my nephew, Jaus," Ikenga said, his voice dropping to a low, firm register. "He did not earn his position by being a man of faint heart. You are trying to shield him from the fire, but he is the one who must learn how to burn."

Jaus paused, as he looked at Ikenga.

"The era to come is his to define," Ikenga said, his voice steady. "As the world’s first god of riches, he will shine once the people truly grasp the power and necessity of wealth. He is a conduit for a fundamental truth, Jaus, that in this new age, prosperity will be the engine of civilization."

Jaus remained silent, his gaze back on the distance.

"I doubt he will be the same after he sees what lies beyond these borders," Ikenga continued, glancing at his brother. "He is on the verge of relearning a lesson he seems to have buried, that profit and benefit is what drives the heart of every mortal. Look at Siren. Her choices were calculated, driven by a need for growth that simply could not occur while she remained in his shadow."

Ikenga softened his expression. "I have placed my trust in the boy, Jaus. I hope you can do the same. Trust the man you have raised."

Jaus offered a small, crooked smirk. "And there you go, proving my point yet again. You always know exactly how to turn the tide."

Ikenga let out a brief, genuine chuckle. "I only speak the truth as I see it."

Jaus’s expression hardened, the levity vanishing as quickly as it had arrived. "What if he falls? What if his throne or another claim him?"

Ikenga merely shrugged, his calm demeanor unshaken. "He is already ahead of the curve. He has Keles to watch over him, his own aunt. He may even prove useful in the shaping of her budding world. You will not lose him, brother. You have us."

Ikenga stepped closer, his gaze

locking onto Jaus with a expression that demanded acknowledgment. "We are all tied to this path. I need to know you are with us, Jaus. I know how deeply you love this world, do not let that love blind you to what is necessary to save it."

Jaus looked at him, the silence between them heavy with the burden of gods and parents.

The scenery chnaged and both was back in Ikenga’s realm. A sudden, violent flash of lightning tore through the air, and Jaus was gone, leaving behind nothing but the scent of ozone and a lingering crackle of electricity. Ikenga felt the fine hairs on his arms rise in the wake of the static, his expression uncharacteristically grave.

He had meant every word he said to his brother. He understood, perhaps better than anyone, that the world’s vibrant vitality remained intact only because of Jaus. It was Jaus who sustained the cycle, whose mana-rich rains and constant, life-giving moisture acted as the silent bedrock of their reality. Because of such a brother, Ikenga felt a heavy, unspoken mandate, he had to ensure Jaus was supported, his hidden labors acknowledged even when the world remained oblivious to them.

Also the price of their decision was already manifesting. As soon as Jaus vanished, the change rippled outward. If the influence of their divinity on the world had been like a tap turned to its absolute limit, a constant, rushing torrent of life, the decision they had just reached felt like a hand tightening over the valve.

They began to pull back. It was not a sudden cessation, but a slow, deliberate tightening. In three years, the rushing flow would be reduced to nothing more than the occasional, mocking drip from a dry faucet.

Those three years were a final, silent grace. It was the only window of time they would grant the mortals. The few who possessed the vision to perceive the thinning of the veil would begin to stir, to prepare, and to ready themselves for the harsh, uncharted realities of the New Era. The countdown had begun.

The Oracle retreated into the profound silence of his library, a physical manifestation of his inward focus. To the outside world, the gates of his domain slammed shut; the seekers, the desperate mages, and the power-hungry lords who had long battered against his doors found themselves barred from his sanctuary.

Inside, the air grew thick with the static of cosmic realization. The Oracle worked with a feverish, monomaniacal intensity, transcribing the General Method Ikenga had gifted him and weaving it into a chain of his own accumulated lore. He was synthesizing, refining the raw, brutal truth of the "Universal Translation" into a structured, pedagogical system.

He had achieved something that would impress the mage who created the general method in amatter of months. He had created a General Transcript of the Elements.

Where before, a sixth-tier aspirant would spend decades, sometimes centuries agonizingly translating their personal Law into the syntax of the universe, the Oracle’s method provided the lexicon. It was a bridge. He had mapped the fundamental frequencies of existence, essentially turning the chaotic, impenetrable "Original Law" of the universe into an accessible, alphabetical language.

He had turned the "World Domination" process into a study of syntax. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

But as he stared at the final, pulsing glyphs of his magnum opus, a cold realization settled in his chest: he had hit a wall. To refine this further, to unlock the nuances of the sixth tier and beyond, he needed data. His own store of knowledge, vast as it was, had been completely exhausted to birth this singular, world-altering script.

The Oracle sat back, his eyes hollow with the exhaustion of a creator, yet his lips curled into a hungry greedy smile. He didn’t need more time in isolation. He needed the world to be his laboratory.