The palace stood on a low hill, its tall towers shimmering in the sunlight. Around it lay lush gardens, alive with vibrant, glowing flowers and ancient trees, their thick branches casting cool shadows over stone paths.
Soft fountains murmured in the background, and strange birds fluttered through the air, singing songs as old as time. In the distance, a misty forest encircled the grounds, its quiet mystery lingering like an unspoken promise.
Amidst this beauty, a graceful figure sat, her presence as serene as the surroundings.
She was beautiful, her skin pale as moonlight, and her voluptuous form settled effortlessly in the wooden chair, like a goddess at rest.
She was lost in the peace of nature, her thoughts drifting with the gentle breeze, until suddenly, her eyes narrowed.
Her head shifted toward the horizon, her gaze sharp and piercing, as though sensing something dangerous.
Moments later, her brow twitches, and she mutters, "You're leading another child of destiny, devouring their luck, consuming their fate. You're so persistent, Dark Emperor."
After speaking, she returned to her momentary peace, as if her words were of little consequence.
However, she was disturbed once again when a young girl appeared before her, holding a delicate flower in her hands.
The young girl giggled softly as she extended the flowers toward her. "Here, Grandma! Take it—it's pretty, right? Hehe!"
A soft smile crossed the woman's face as she looked at the child's beaming expression. Her earlier tension melted away.
She took the flowers and spoke gently, "Aw, you're so sweet, Mary. Good child, come here and sit with Grandma. I'll tell you a story."
Her voice was calm, though her eyes reflected a reminiscent glow, as if recalling memories long buried.
Mary eagerly nodded, climbing into her grandmother's lap and settling on her belly.
Her wide eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Tell me a story, Grandma! I want one that's exciting!" she said, her hands clenched tightly in excitement.
The woman chuckled softly, her smile warm.
"Then I shall tell you the story of the banished god, cursed and forever bound to a tiny, forgotten continent."
Mary, her enthusiasm unabated, nodded eagerly.
Seeing the girl's eagerness, the woman brushed a few strands of Mary's hair aside, her smile turning wistful as she began her tale.
"Long ago," she began, her voice smooth and low, like the turning of ancient pages.
"There was a god—not a great one, not a famous one. He was a lesser god, born of the quiet winds and a forgotten domain. His name is lost to time, but his story… his story is carved into the bones of the heavens."
Mary leaned in closer, her hands still clutching the flower petals, her full attention on the woman.
"This god," the woman continued, "had an obsession deeper than oceans, darker than the void between realms. He longed for strength—not like others who seek power for glory or duty—but with a hunger so fierce it consumed him from within. His parents were gentle deities of nature—humble and kind. But one day, they were slain."
The woman's eyes dimmed slightly, the sorrow in her gaze almost palpable.
"They were killed by the very gods who were praised as heroes. The heavens sang their names, calling them saviors—never mind the innocent blood they spilled. He witnessed it all. The cheers. The laughter. The golden temples raised in their name. And all the while, his heart twisted in silence."
Mary frowned, her small hands clutching tightly to the woman's white dress.
"He hated them," the woman whispered, her voice like the rumble of a distant storm."He hated the way power excused cruelty. The way justice bent before might. And so, he swore—swore to rise above them all. Not for glory, not even revenge, but to stand above that twisted sky and shout down its lies."
"Did he get strong, Grandma?" Mary asked, her voice barely a whisper.
The woman's lips curled into a bittersweet smile. "Oh, he did, dear. More than anyone could imagine. He began to devour other lesser gods—first in secret, then without shame. Their bodies, their souls, their essence… all became fuel for his climb. He stormed temples, shattered celestial gates, even destroyed a heaven domain in his madness. He believed if he just pushed further, he'd break the chains of fate itself."
Mary's eyes shone with excitement. "That sounds cool!"
The woman's smile faded, and her voice dropped into a somber tone.
"But it wasn't. Heaven… noticed. The laws, ancient and absolute, turned against him. They sealed his fate, locked his talent, and made it so that no matter what he did, he could grow no stronger."
"He tried everything, didn't he?" Mary whispered, her voice full of awe.
"Everything," the woman nodded solemnly. "And when even despair failed to break him… he resisted. He raged. He slaughtered. Blood rained down in the lower domains. Even with his power suppressed, he continued his killing spree, madness fueling his every step. Screams echoed where prayers once rose. He thought he could defy the very will of creation."
"And then?" Mary asked, her voice filled with curiosity.
The woman's voice softened, almost reverent, as she spoke the final words.
"Then came the Celestial. A being of pure law and judgment. Not a god, but something greater. It looked at him—not with anger, not with pity—but with finality. It sealed him. Banished him. Locked him away in the Human Realm, bound to a small, forgotten continent, never to rise again."
Mary blinked, confused. "Forever?"
"Forever," the woman said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The laws will not let him grow. No matter how hard he tries, he is shackled. Not by chains, but by fate itself. And yet…"
She paused, her smile curling once more, but this time, it held something deeper—a reminder of something unspoken. "He still dreams of strength."
Mary looked down, her fingers tracing the petals of the flower she still held, her thoughts turning. "Grandma…" she began, her voice tentative. "Do you think he was bad?"
The woman gazed at her for a long moment, the weight of her words delicate and heavy.
"He was broken. And in his breaking, he broke others. That doesn't make him evil, Mary… but it doesn't make him good either. Sometimes… people become monsters chasing the things they think will save them."
Mary nodded slowly, her mind spinning with the complexities of the tale.
The woman, brushing a hand through her silver hair, added one last whisper—a secret shared between worlds: "But even monsters can be mourned."
Mary, still lost in her thoughts, suddenly looked up. "Did you say something, Grandma?"
The woman chuckled softly, her eyes now filled with a subtle sadness. "It's nothing, Mary. You should sleep now with me. I'm feeling a bit sleepy." Her cheeks flushed pale, and her eyes dimmed with the exhaustion of old memories.
She settled back, as though the weight of a forgotten sorrow had caught up with her.
Mary, though curious, saw the change in her grandmother's demeanor and chose not to press further.
She settled into her arms, and they slept there peacefully, the world outside seemingly oblivious to the heavy truth that hung in the air.
Hours passed.
Suddenly, the ground beneath them shuddered, a deep rumble echoing through the atmosphere.
The noise grew louder, and the earth trembled violently. A profound, unsettling force surged through the land.
Mary, still asleep moments earlier, bolted upright, her eyes wide with confusion. She looked around, bewildered. The shaking continued, growing louder by the second.
"What's happening, Grandma?" she asked, her voice quivering with uncertainty.
The woman's eyes snapped open, and shock and disbelief crossed her face. She muttered under her breath, her gaze locked on some unseen horizon.
"Impossible... Who is it? How did she do it? Who is this little girl?"
Mary, hearing her grandmother's words, asked anxiously, "What do you mean, Grandma? Who are you talking about?"
The woman turned toward her, her expression filled with a strange mix of disbelief and concern.
"Someone is fighting the Dark Emperor. They've already destroyed half of the Obsidian Grave Continent."
Mary's face paled, and her voice was full of shock. "What? Someone is fighting that deity? Who is it, Grandma? Please, tell me!"
The woman took a deep breath, and her gaze softened slightly as she looked at Mary.
"It's easier if I take you there. Do you want to go, my dear?"