The Guardian gods-Chapter 456

Nwadiebube clenched his jaw. He could see it now—Nwadike was not merely indifferent. He was against him in this.

The question was... how far was he willing to push? And how far would Nwadike go to stop him?

Aqua’s gaze remained steady as he regarded Nwadiebube.

"Are you sure about this, Your Highness?"

Nwadiebube narrowed his eyes, his posture unwavering. "Things may yet be smoothed over if you simply provide the information we require. But if not... then nothing can be done."

There was a finality to his words, a challenge veiled beneath the diplomatic phrasing. He was prepared for resistance, and it showed in the way he carried himself—expectant, assured.

And before Aqua could speak, Nwadiebube pressed forward, voice edged with something sharper.

"Even the godlings and the apelings have no say in this matter. This is human territory. A matter for mortals to decide."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. His next words carried weight, spoken not just for the spirits before him but for all who stood witness.

"Or perhaps the godlings see themselves above humans? Do they believe they have the right to make decisions on our behalf? If so, please—let it be known to all."

Silence.

Aqua and Brix exchanged a glance, unreadable as ever.

Then, with a quiet sigh, Aqua waved his hand. A book materialized before him, its presence commanding, pages shimmering with unseen knowledge.

And just like that, the gathered mortals ceased to exist in the world spirits’ eyes.

Their attention had shifted entirely, no longer interested in the humans standing before them.

The book’s pages turned, revealing the long-forgotten history of the ruined land beneath them—the animals that once roamed its expanse, the ancient trees that reached toward the heavens, the mineral veins that had thrived beneath the surface, now shattered and lifeless.

Their gazes remained locked on the unfolding record. And when they had seen enough, the book disappeared as effortlessly as it had arrived.

Brix, his massive form moving with deliberate grace, lowered himself onto one knee. Pressing his hand to the soil, he closed his eyes in silent communion.

A moment later, the earth responded.

A narrow path of soil in front of him shifted, forming an intricate map of the land. The visual extended outward, revealing the slow, steady progress of the treants as they worked to restore what had been lost.

Brix traced his hand over the mapped terrain, pinpointing the buried remnants of the mineral veins. With a gesture, the ground trembled in response—stone transmuting, reshaping, stabilizing, ensuring that the earth’s lifeblood would flow once more.

Beside him, Aqua turned his focus skyward.

The winds stirred as clouds gathered above, dark and heavy with mana-infused rain. The first droplets fell, sinking into the barren soil, rejuvenating it, making it fertile once more. The moisture thickened in the air, weaving together an environment capable of sustaining the elements who had lost their home.

Their work had begun.

And whether or not the mortals approved, the spirits did not seek their permission.

The gathered humans stood in stunned silence, watching as the two world spirits wove their power into the land. Even those who had spoken boldly before now found themselves breathless, their arguments fading beneath the undeniable reality before them.

The ground shifted with purpose, not in chaos but in careful, deliberate restoration. Where once there had been ruin, there was now life. The veins of minerals pulsed with new energy, the land drank deeply from the mana-infused rain, and the very air grew rich with vitality.

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No—more than that.

It was creation itself, raw and undisturbed by mortal hands.

Even the most skeptical among them could not deny what they saw. Some gazed in reverence, others in wary awe, but none could look away.

Then, without a word, Brix and Aqua turned toward the empty space before them.

The air crackled. A ripple spread through reality like a stone cast into a still lake. A shimmering gateway formed, a portal to the spirit realm. Its edges pulsed with an ethereal glow, like the breath of something vast and unknowable.

And from its depths, they emerged.

Animals—creatures whose ancestors had once roamed these very lands before they were lost to destruction.

Towering elk with gleaming antlers, their fur shimmering with the faint glow of mana. Great feline beasts with sleek, spectral coats, moving like shadows given form. Birds with radiant plumage, their songs a melody of ancient times, weaving into the wind as if carrying whispers of a forgotten past.

They stepped through, hesitating only for a moment before bounding forward, as though their spirits recognized the land beneath their feet.

A cycle had been completed.

A world once broken was now made whole.

And the humans could only watch.

After their work was done, they left the way they came, no word said as the portal took them away, their work finished here but not in the other continents.

Their next destination was the Western continent; a portal opened up where the previous battle took place.

A few hours back before they got to this continent, At the humanity kingdom. Erik and his council members were in a meeting discussing the new spectacle or area that appeared at the boundary of their kingdom and the sun kingdom.

Once again at the boundary of kingdoms, Makes one question if it was all planned or was it all a coincidence.

Erik and his council sat in the grand chamber, their expressions grim as they discussed the sudden appearance of a peculiar phenomenon at the boundary between their kingdom and the Sun Kingdom. The timing and location were almost too precise, making one wonder—was this merely a coincidence, or was there a hidden hand orchestrating these events?

Reports confirmed that their own territory remained stable, allowing them to focus entirely on this new spectacle—a vast, ominous lake filled with dark, viscous waters that seemed unnervingly alive. Scouts who ventured near spoke of whispers rippling across its surface, an unnatural stillness that swallowed sound, and a strange, oppressive aura that made even the bravest men hesitant to approach.

Yet, Erik was not the man he once was. The decisive battle against Silas had changed him irrevocably, molding him into something new—something wholly human, or so he convinced himself. His former identity as an elf had been discarded, buried beneath the weight of his new responsibilities as king. Few now even remembered his origins, and even fewer dared to question the transformation of their ruler.

Since the war, the Humanity Kingdom had sealed itself off from extensive foreign contact, focusing inward to recover from its losses. The war had ravaged their population, and rebuilding was not just about infrastructure—it was about survival. On the surface, the kingdom thrived, its streets bustling, its markets filled with trade and laughter. But beneath this facade of prosperity, a different culture was beginning to take root—one that Erik and his council had carefully cultivated.

The rapid repopulation of the kingdom had become a priority, and with it, a shift in societal values. Promiscuity, once whispered about in hushed disapproval, was now subtly encouraged. Festivals of fertility were promoted, incentives for childbearing were offered, and even the noble class was not exempt from this quiet decree. It was a necessary adaptation, or so Erik told himself. The ends justified the means.

Yet Erik’s ambitions stretched beyond mere numbers.

Deep within the chambers of his research, he had begun a series of experiments—on himself. His elven blood, once a symbol of an identity he had forsaken, now became the key to his new vision. He extracted it, studied it, and sought ways to alter the very foundation of human nature. His initial goal had been simple: to bring human beauty standards closer to that of the elves, to elevate his people beyond their mortal limitations. But somewhere along the way, the lines between human and elf blurred in his mind.

His research evolved. No longer was it about appearance—it was about essence. Could he make humans more like elves? Could he bridge the gap between the two races and create a superior lineage? A kingdom not just of men, but of something greater?

He had shared this vision with his council, carefully selecting his words, feeding them only what they needed to hear. They agreed with his goals, believing it to be another means of strengthening their people. But Erik alone knew the full scope of his work. The truth of his experiments remained a secret, locked away beneath layers of deception.

His people saw him as a king blessed with an extraordinary bloodline, his striking features and unmatched vitality proof of his divine right to rule. But none knew the real reason behind his unnatural presence. None knew the truth of his elven past. And if Erik had his way, they never would.

Despite the grandeur of his vision, Erik had yet to achieve his ultimate goal. Each day brought new progress in his experiments, inching him closer to transforming the human bloodline, but the path was slow, meticulous, and riddled with unforeseen consequences. One such consequence now loomed over his kingdom—an outbreak of cursed beings.