Chapter 657: 657
Her golden eyes lifted only slightly, their glow soft but heavy with quiet power.
Siren froze.
The sight of Mahu unchanged, serene, and untouchably divine brought a thousand memories crashing over her. The warmth of old companionship. The ache of what was lost. The shame of what she had become.
Without a word, she sank to her knees. Her head bowed low, her hands trembling against the polished floor.
"I know," she murmured, her voice fragile but steady. "I know how wrong my actions were..."
The words trembled as it came out, like a confession whispered to a mother’s shadow.
"But I do not regret them."
Almost as if she had plucked the thought directly from Siren’s heart, Mahu spoke. Her voice was soft, yet it carried through the vast chamber with the quiet authority of one who had seen eons pass.
"Seeing you once again," Mahu began, her eyes half-lidded as she watched Siren kneel, "and hearing of your actions... I can’t help but be reminded that you truly are my brother’s creation."
Her tone was not cruel, merely factual an observation more than an accusation. Yet the weight of it struck Siren harder than a god’s wrath could.
"That greedy, selfish nature of yours," Mahu continued, setting her knitting aside. Threads of silver light unraveled from her fingers, fading into the air. "That endless hunger that drives you forward, never once caring how your actions may be perceived, nor how they wound those around you."
Siren’s breath caught. Shame and defiance warred silently within her.
Mahu studied her for a moment longer, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed, the sound soft as moonlight.
"I won’t take personal action to protect you," she said finally, "but my brother has left you in my care. That much I cannot ignore. Your safety, then, remains a concern to me."
Her eyes softened just slightly. "You may always return to this realm, child, whenever you feel threatened... or lost."
With a delicate wave of her hand, Mahu’s power brushed through the air. The light around Siren shimmered, and in an instant, she was lifted away gently, effortlessly carried by divine will to another corner of the lunar realm.
Silence fell once more.
Mahu sat still for a long while, her knitting tool hovering idly between her fingers. Her gaze turned distant, her thoughts wandering far beyond her celestial garden.
Her brother.
The mere thought of him brought both warmth and unease. She longed for his return, the comfort of his presence, the steady rhythm he once brought to her. But she knew his nature too well. His return would never come quietly. It would bring change... change she believes is not ready for.
A quiet sigh escaped her lips. "You’ve always been full of surprises," she murmured to the unseen stars.
Her mind drifted next to Ikem, her stepson. The thought alone brought a new weight to her chest. The boy bore the best and worst of his lineage, his father’s strength, his mother’s pride, and a touch of that same divine restlessness that marked their kind.
The more she thought about it, the more tension coiled within her.
She truly needed Ikenga back. With him beside her, the burdens of divine order had always felt lighter. There were things she never had to think about, choices she never had to make alone. Now, with him gone, even her realm felt colder.
Yet when she thought of Ikem, a faint smile tugged at her lips. Soon, he would be a father. A new generation was stirring, a spark of innocence ready to return to their celestial family.
Her gaze drifted to the silver garden below, the flowers swaying in gentle lunar wind.
"I have missed the laughter of children here," she whispered. "Perhaps... it is time for that sound to return."
Meanwhile, in the mortal world. Erik rose slowly from the rubble, dust and smoke curling around him in the dim light. Chunks of marble and broken tile shifted beneath his boots, but his body bore no mark of injury. Not a single cut, not a bruise, only his clothes, now torn and dirt-streaked, told of the impact he had endured.
He exhaled sharply, the air around him vibrating faintly as his eyes flared with a golden ring of light. Through that divine glow, he sought the source of the attack, the one who had shattered the palace walls.
But before he could focus, the air before him split.
A trident tore through the space like a comet, its three prongs trailing light. It moved too fast to be seen clearly, only the scream of the air and the gleam of starlight announcing its approach.
In the blink of an eye, it was upon him.
Erik bent backward in an almost inhuman motion, his body folding as the trident cleaved through where his head had just been. The weapon passed above him in a radiant arc, close enough that the air burned against his skin.
Then, something stranger happened.
The trident’s passage left a trail of shimmering starlight hanging in the air, thin threads that didn’t fade but persisted, trembling with cosmic energy. Erik’s eyes widened as he realized the light wasn’t merely residue, it was rending the space itself.
Within the torn air, he caught a glimpse of something impossible.
His laboratory.
The sight was brief, flickering, like a reflection on water yet clear enough that he saw the five beasts, still stirring within their containment sigils. Their forms seemed distorted through the rift, each one glowing faintly as if aware of his presence.
But that came with a new danger as through the torn air from the Trident. A deep, resonant sound rolled through the air, the heavy, crashing roar of a tide. From above, something descended, swift and merciless: a spear wreathed in fluid, shifting light, its form changing as it fell. It was like watching the ocean take the shape of a weapon.
Erik’s own spear vibrated violently in his grip, the metal groaning as if alive. The light in its runes flared, and before he could react, a ghostly figure began to form, an ethereal silhouette pulling itself free from the weapon. The spirit’s translucent hand pressed against Erik’s chest, shoving him backward just as the descending spear struck the ground.
The impact was cataclysmic. The air exploded outward in a wave of water-like force, splintering the rubble around him and sending a fine mist cascading through the room.
When the light dimmed, Erik stood several paces away, his spear humming faintly, the spectral guardian fading back into it.
He stared at the ruined floor, breathing heavily, confusion etched deep in his expression.
The pressure, the killing intent that had locked onto him was suddenly gone. Just like that.
The air was still again, save for the soft ringing in his ears.
Erik was about to ask, half to himself, half to the fading echo of the specter what had just happened, when the world answered him in the form of a thunderous explosion.
The sound came from the direction of his castle.
He turned sharply, golden eyes narrowing as the shockwave rippled through the palace grounds. A section of the castle wall crumbled, and from the collapsing stone burst forth a massive construct of water,a towering form shaped like the head of a great shark, its jaws snapping wildly as it rose into the air. The creature’s translucent form shimmered with liquid light, and every movement sent cascades of water crashing down like rain.
Erik’s gaze followed its path and then he saw it, the target. His son. The crown prince.
For a heartbeat, time seemed to slow. The young man stood poised on a balcony, his eyes blazing with defiance even as the monstrous maw lunged toward him. He was not weak; Erik knew that. The boy had his own strength, his own pride. But a parent’s instincts ran deeper than reason.
The ground beneath Erik’s feet cracked. Power surged through him, golden light flashing from his eyes. With an explosive burst, he launched himself forward, shattering the air as he propelled toward the castle. The sonic boom followed a heartbeat later, echoing like thunder through the grounds.
Up above, the prince moved with fluid precision. He twisted away just as the water shark snapped at him, its jaws closing with a roar that sent droplets flying like shards of glass. Landing on the balcony’s edge, he leveled his spear toward the creature. The weapon’s tip gleamed with azure frost, and with a sharp thrust, he released the spell.
In an instant, the raging water froze solid. The construct crystallized mid-lunge, ice crawling along its body in jagged veins until the entire mass was suspended in the air, motionless, beautiful, and deadly.
The prince leapt lightly onto the frozen structure, his breath steady despite the chaos. From that vantage, he could see everything,his family gathered below, struggling against the red-colored creatures that had poured into the courtyard. Their bodies shimmered faintly from the residue of divine energy.
They had all felt the earlier roar, the one that had shaken the palace to its core. They knew its origin. There was no mistaking it.
Their father’s laboratory.
The beasts had burst free, ignoring everything else, every guard, every barrier, every target except his father Erik.