The Guardian gods-Chapter 518

Vellok’s eyes narrowed, the weight behind his gaze sharpening as he studied the king with a new intensity. No longer was he merely sizing up an ally—he was gauging a threat. Across the grand hall, the Emperor, who had remained silent until now, slowly leaned forward, the folds of his crimson robe pooling like blood around his throne.

"It seems you are steadfast on your path," he said, his voice cold and deliberate, "and we cannot come to an agreement."

The Ogre King said nothing. His thick jaw was clenched, expression unreadable.

The Emperor continued, his tone tightening with veiled menace. "Your presence holds a... significant place within the Empire’s structure. That is the only reason why no direct action will be taken against you. For now."

He let the silence stretch, then spoke again—this time, with a name.

"But Kaelen—"

The name struck like a lash. The ogre king flinched, despite himself. His eyes lifted, locking with the Emperor’s. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—pain, perhaps, or buried fear—but it was quickly swallowed beneath a stoic mask.

"Anything can happen in war," the Emperor said, voice now low and serrated. "We may not strike at you openly... but the battlefield is chaos. And chaos always finds a way. There are many within the Empire—many beyond it—who would be all too glad to see a powerhouse like you brought to ruin. Especially one with such a... complicated loyalty."

Kaelen said nothing, but the flicker of tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

"Tread carefully with your new student," the Emperor warned. "But understand this—the extinction of the Ratmen is absolute. Any who stand in the way of that, regardless of their blood, name, or past ties..."

He paused, letting the words hang like a blade over the ogre’s head.

"...is an enemy."

With that both him left just as them came, Silent with no trace. The ogre king now alone took sometime to respond before he said with a slight smirk "Trust me, I will play it carefully this time"

Back at the Abyss, within Zarvok’s territory, Ikenga walked the long hall of the demon lord’s castle. Beside him, holding his arm, was a woman of astonishing beauty—elegant, confident, and unmistakably not from this layer. A succubus from a another layer of the Abyss, she had been offered to him by Zarvok himself. The demon lord, known for his extravagance and hospitality, had made sure Ikenga was well cared for during his stay.

Tonight, a dinner was arranged. Zarvok wanted to speak with him—about what, Ikenga could only guess. But it wasn’t lost on him that everything had been carefully curated, from the meal to the woman at his side.

As for Keles, she had been wholly consumed by the souls he brought her. Whatever her purpose with them was, Ikenga didn’t ask—he trusted her to handle her affairs, even if her silence left him restless. In truth, her absence had worn on him more than he expected. The quiet was too loud without her sharp presence.

Zarvok’s offer of companionship was one Ikenga first declined, but Keles had noticed the shift in him. She surprised him—paused her work, met his gaze, and without ceremony, proposed a bold idea: the three of them, together.

It had been... exhilarating. A rare, intimate chaos that lingered in Ikenga’s mind longer than he wanted to admit. Keles rarely had the time for such things, but in that moment, her message was clear—she didn’t mind him taking a temporary companion, so long as he understood who held the deeper bond.

And so, Ikenga walked the grand hall with the succubus on his arm, presentable, calm, and sharp-eyed. But his thoughts, as always, drifted toward Keles—and what Zarvok truly wanted from him tonight.

As they approached the towering doors of the grand dining hall, the succubus leaned in slightly, her voice smooth like silk soaked in smoke.

"You walk like you’re going to war, not dinner," she teased, eyes glinting with amusement. "Relax, Ikenga. Zarvok may be many things, but tonight he’s your host—not your enemy."

Ikenga glanced sideways at her, expression unreadable. "With Zarvok, the two aren’t always separate."

She chuckled softly, the sound low and alluring. "True enough. Still... you haven’t said much since we left your quarters. Thinking about her again?"

Ikenga didn’t answer immediately. His gaze stayed ahead, fixed on the heavy doors drawing closer. "She’s been quiet. Focused. I’ve gotten used to her presence. When it’s gone, I feel it."

The succubus tilted her head slightly, not quite smiling. "You two are strange. Not lovers, not bound. But there’s a weight between you... heavier than most chains I’ve seen down here."

"She doesn’t need to be bound to me," he said simply. "And I don’t need to explain her to anyone."

There was no sharpness in his tone—just certainty. The succubus accepted it with a graceful nod, her arm still looped through his.

"I’m not here to replace her, Ikenga," she murmured, more serious now. "Zarvok offered, and I came because I was curious. You’re not like the others."

He finally turned to meet her gaze. "No, I’m not. And neither is she."

A moment passed. Then she smiled again, softer this time. "Good. I prefer things with bite." freēwēbnovel.com

The guards at the door moved, pulling them open with a dull groan of stone and metal. Warm light and the scent of roasted flesh spilled out from within. Ikenga stepped forward, composed and cold once more, but the succubus noticed the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth—something between amusement and anticipation.

Zarvok was still small—an imp barely the height of a child—but Ikenga never stopped being impressed whenever he saw him. It wasn’t the size that mattered. It was the way Zarvok carried himself. The confidence, the poise, the sheer weight of presence that made others forget they were looking at something so deceptively unimposing. His power didn’t need to be loud; it simply was.

The dining table stretched far across the dark hall, lined with flickering candles that cast long, dancing shadows. As Ikenga entered, Zarvok spotted him and raised a slender, clawed hand holding a black-glass bottle.

"It seems," Zarvok said, voice smooth, "like Lady Keles won’t be joining us tonight."

Ikenga offered a brief smile as he slid into his seat. "She’s at a critical juncture in her experiments. I’m not surprised she’s chosen to remain focused."

Zarvok’s eyes shimmered for a brief moment—just a flicker of something unreadable—before the usual charm returned. "Of course. Her devotion is admirable."

There was a pause as wine was poured, the clink of glass the only sound between them.

Then Zarvok spoke again, tone casual but measured. "So... how has this invasion been for you? Was it what you expected? Or was it—perhaps—disappointing?"

Ikenga took a slow sip from his cup, letting the silence linger before responding. "It wasn’t what I expected, no. But it’s been revealing. I’ve begun to see why things are unfolding the way they are."

He set the cup down gently, then added with a faint grin, "Though I certainly wasn’t expecting one of the invasion’s leaders to not be on the battlefield, and still have enough time to entertain guests."

Zarvok barked a laugh, raising his cup in return. "I appreciate your light-filled honesty, Ikenga."

He leaned back, swirling his wine. "And at the same time, I should thank both you and Keles. Were it not for your presence here, I’d likely be out there, leading the charge myself, rushing headlong into the fray. Instead, I’ve been afforded the luxury of time."

His sharp eyes met Ikenga’s, gleaming with a mixture of amusement and calculation. "And you know how I treasure that."

Ikenga nodded slowly, swirling the wine in his cup. "I do. And I can’t help but envy your luck. This world... it’s been more than I expected. The secrets buried in it have drawn my attention—I find myself wanting to uncover them all."

Zarvok’s laughter rang out, sharp and genuine, the kind that made the candles flicker as if they shared in his amusement. "Indeed! And thanks to you two gods walking in mortal skin, I’ll be getting this world without it being war-ridden and ruined."

He leaned forward then, fingers tented on the table, voice dropping into something more curious, more pointed. "If you don’t mind me asking, you’ve been back in the Abyss for quite a while now. I have no doubts about what you and Lady Keles have accomplished... but being so far removed, not having eyes on your chess piece—well, that can prove... costly."

Ikenga chuckled, not unkindly, but with a tone of amused certainty. "Trust me when I say—my eyes are always on my chess piece."

He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.

The air between them thickened for a moment, not with hostility, but with something more like mutual awareness, perhaps. Two players, both keenly aware that even behind friendly words and shared wine, the game was always in motion.