The Guardian gods

Chapter 821

He looked toward the window, where the distorted moans of the transformed could occasionally be heard over the wind. "It is time they rested their worn-out bodies. The seed will leave them emptied of their misery, taking their tainted blood to fuel its own ascension. Once the capital is harvested and the core is stable, we expand outwards."

Erik’s eyes darkened with a flash of regal ruthlessness. "The last to play their role in this nourishment will be the untainted, the normal humans we have kept sealed away in the safety of the rural lands"

"The seed should have by then sprouted and grown," Erik mused, his voice echoing with a weary hope. "It would be easier then to inform them of the change. If they see the tree, if they smell its sweetness and see its majesty, they will understand their role. It would be less work, less stress, with a people organized and willing."

Eldrin’s expression didn’t soften. He stepped closer, "I would have to disagree on that last part, Father. I believe it would be wiser that we let the change happen before we inform them. If you give them the why and the how while they still have their human minds and human fears, you invite rebellion. Let the transformation take root first. Once they wake up with the blood already singing in their veins, they will have no choice but to accept the explanation."

Erik looked at his son, seeing a ruthlessness that perhaps he himself had cultivated. He shook his head slowly.

"But son," Erik countered, his tone heavy with the memory of ruling a kingdom that wasn’t yet broken. "I say this because many may not appreciate a sudden change of race. Humans are a stubborn, prideful lot. They get high-strung on matters of purity and ancestry. That is why I wanted this to be a choice they make for themselves, a voluntary sacrifice for a greater evolution not a sentence we pass upon them."

He looked at the his son, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To force a change of the soul is a heavy burden, Eldrin. If we take their humanity without their consent, are we still their protectors, or have we simply cursed them with an existence they didn’t ask for?"

"They are of their right mind, unlike the others who are now cursed beings and could have no say in the situation," Erik said, his tone turning stern, the weight of his crown returning to his shoulders. "With the fallen, we are forced to do what we must as royalty to save them. But with the sane? That is a different matter."

Eldrin’s lip curled, a sharp, cold arrogance bleeding into his voice. "Are there really people out there who would choose to remain human? Who would truly reject the gift of elven blood to cling to a dying, average looking fragile existence?"

Erik looked at his son, at the pointed ears, the heightened grace, and the burgeoning power that already set them apart from the subjects they ruled.

"Just as you hold such arrogance and pride over your elven heritage," Erik said, his voice dropping to a low, resonant warning, "there are billions out there who hold that same sentiment for their human heritage. To them, it is not a fragile existence to be discarded, it is their soul. Never underestimate the lengths a man will go to remain himself."

In response, Eldrin let out a short, sharp scoff, a sound of pure dismissal but he spoke no longer. He didn’t agree, but he recognized the finality in his father’s voice.

The descison was made as Erik and Eldrin descended into the heart of the capital. The city, once a jewel of marble and light, was now a labyrinth of heavy, perfumed mists and shadows.

The transition from the sterile silence of the lab to the streets was easy to notice. These cursed beings whose bodies had warped into that of desire. For the most part, Erik and Eldrin moved through them with quick ease. These cursed beings primary defense was temptation, illusions of grandeur, whispers of pleasures, and pheromones that could turn a man’s blood to fire.

But for both, these mental traps were mere annoyances. The father and son worked quickly. Most were easily subdued. They drifted toward the seed’s scent like moths, their willpower long since eroded. Eldrin will make a quick scrathc, Erik would extend his hand, and the seed’s resonance would violently draw the stagnant, corrupted fluids from their veins, leaving behind only husks that finally knew the peace of stillness.

However, as they moved deeper toward the Great Plaza, the atmosphere shifted.

"Beware, Eldrin," Erik said, his eyes scanning the rooftops. "The mindless are easy. But the longer the curse festers, the more it learns and grow."

Indeed, there were exceptions "The Predatory Cursed" These were cursed beings who had instinctively evolved past simple temptation. They didn’t just whisper, they mimicked. They used sophisticated forms and Erik was wary of that, attacks that targeted specific memories or used the very apperance of one’s hidden love to mask their approach.

The air in the Great Plaza grew thick, the perfume of the curse turning from sweet to the smell of a rotting orchid. Eldrin suddenly felt a tug on his mind, a perfect mimicry of Alinar’s voice calling his name from an alleyway.

"Focus!" Erik barked, but it was almost too late.

From the ornate eaves of the surrounding buildings, the Predatory Cursed descended. They were unlike the slow husks they had harvested earlier. These beings moved with a terrifying, liquid grace, their limbs elongated and tipped with obsidian talons.

One lunged at Eldrin, its face a shifting mask of a woman he once loved, its body a nightmare of iridescent scales. It used the momentary hesitation caused by its face to strike. The creature’s attack came as a sophisticated sensory overload that flooded Eldrin’s mind with the thrill of being devoured.

Eldrin gasped, his spear-arm wavering as his heart rate spiked to a dangerous rhythm.

Erik saw this as he slammed his spear into the cobblestones, releasing a wave of raw, cold mana to shatter the illusion.

The Prince snapped out of the trance just as the claw grazed his throat. With a roar of suppressed rage, he spun his spear, the blade trailing golden light as it bisected the creature in mid-air. Instead of blood, the beast dissolved into a cloud of thick, pink spores.

"Behind you!" Eldrin shouted.

A second predator had emerged from Erik’s own shadow, its form flickering like a candle flame. It didn’t have a solid shape, it wrapped around him like a cold shroud, trying to drain the mana directly from his veins.

Erik didn’t panic. He reached into the bowl and touched the Seed.

The Seed pulsed, a violent,thumping beat. It wanted the cursed essence. A vacuum of force erupted from Erik, and the shadow-creature was literally inhaled into the bowl. It let out a silent, psychic scream as it was shredded and absorbed by the Seed.

The skirmish lasted only seconds, a brief lash of violence. The remaining predators, realizing both could not be easily gotten melted back into the perfumed fog.

Eldrin wiped a smudge of black ichor from his cheek, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You were right, Father. They are learning."

Erik looked at the bowl. The Seed was no longer just glowing, it was vibrating, the pink light now laced with veins of aggressive violet. "Then we must be faster," the King replied, his eyes cold. "The more they evolve, the less humanity remains to be saved."

Back on the eastern continent, a rumor began to spread. The source of the rumor was unknown, but its appearance was sudden, rippling through the public overnight.

Apparently, the new king of the Osita kingdom was not in agreement with the opinions shared by his father, the former king, during his time in court. The new king, Nwadike, had a lot to say about this.

As this rumor gained ground, a deeper secret was leaked, about how Osita had never truly been the king. Instead, it was claimed that his wife, the queen who has not been seen for a while now was the true ruler throughout Osita’s entire time on the throne.

Because of the former king’s status, his presence in the court still mattered and played a significant role in daily politics. His presence actually made it easier for Nwadike to accustom himself to the older rulers, it gave him a way to engage with those who had held their offices and positions since long before his reign began.

Things remained stable for a time, but the atmosphere eventually shifted, leading to the suspicious glances and sharp whispers that fueled the current rumors.

According to these reports, it seemed the former king had not quite let go of his power or his influence over the court. In turn, this made the words and commands of the new king sound weak, many officials would second-guess Nwadike’s orders before carrying them out, waiting to see if the father approved.