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Chapter 419: 419
And then it struck him. His father was powerful, a being so vast, so that human emotions were perhaps... insignificant to him. His farewell hadn’t been cold; it had been... detached. Impersonal. Not because he didn’t care, but because his perspective was so different, so far removed from the human experience.
The remnants of the feast lay scattered across the table, a testament to the joyous, if slightly blurry, celebration. Laughter still echoed softly, interspersed with the contented sighs of those pleasantly inebriated. Even Ikem, a demigod of considerable willpower, felt the warm fuzziness of the wine. He savored the feeling, knowing it was fleeting. He wished this could last forever, this bubble of familial warmth and carefree joy. But the time had come.
He rose, the movement surprisingly steady despite the copious amounts of wine he’d consumed. A hush fell over the room, the lingering merriment replaced by an anticipatory quiet. His children, his people, looked at him with a mixture of love, awe, and a touch of trepidation. They knew what this meant. This was goodbye.
Ikem surveyed the faces before him, each one a reflection of himself, a piece of his own being. He saw the playful glint in Zephyr’s eyes, even in his slightly drunken state. He saw the quiet strength in Terra’s expression, the unwavering loyalty in Ember’s gaze, the boundless spirit in Ripple’s smile. They were his legacy, his greatest creation, the embodiment of everything he had strived for.
He cleared his throat, the sound resonating in the sudden silence.
"Time to address the people" He said as he began walking out of the throne room to the gate of the palace now filled with millions of apelings turning their sight towards the palace waiting for him.
"My children," he began, his voice strong and clear, "my people. Today, we stand at a crossroads. A turning point in our history. The journey I began so long ago, a journey ordained by my father, the Origin God of Nature and Curses, has reached its culmination."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. "Many of you know the story of my departure. The trials I faced, the battles I fought, the sacrifices I made. I did it all for you. For the future of our people, for the prosperity of our land, for the preservation of the unique gifts that flow through our blood."
He took a deep breath, the weight of his impending ascension pressing down on him. "My father’s farewell was... different," he admitted, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "It was a charge, a test. A cold, distant decree. There was almost warmth, no emotion. Just a task, a challenge to be overcome."
He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached his eyes. "But my farewell... this is different. This is not a cold decree. This is a celebration. A testament to the love that binds us together, the bond that makes us family. You, my children, are my heart, my soul, my everything. And though I must leave you now, know that a part of me will always remain with you."
He raised his hand, a gesture of blessing. "I leave you with my blessings, with my love, and with the hope that you will continue to thrive, to grow, to embrace the power that resides within you. Remember the lessons I have taught you, the values I have instilled in you. Be strong, be courageous, be kind to one another. And never forget the bond that unites us."
His voice softened, becoming more intimate. "This is not goodbye, my children. It is a... a transformation. I will become something more, something... different. But my love for you, my connection to you, will never fade. It will endure, as strong and unwavering as the roots of the oldest tree."
He looked at them one last time, etching their faces into his memory. "Farewell, my children," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Until we meet again." Then, he turned and walked towards the waiting rune pillar, ready to embrace his destiny.
As soon as Ikem reached the rune pillar, the sun dipped below the horizon. A hush fell over the gathered crowd, their breaths held in anticipation. Then, a vast shadow loomed over them.
They looked up to see Ikem transformed, now fully embracing his divine heritage. His true demigod form was revealed—a towering ape-like figure clad in armor that had seamlessly adjusted to his immense size.
Ikem placed a hand on the pillar, and it began to hum. An unseen, sonar-like force radiated outward, spreading across the planet, reaching every demigod stationed before their own pillar.
With his enormous stature, the once-massive pillar now seemed small in comparison. He placed both hands on it, lifting it with ease. As the ancient runes ignited with power, the pillar grew even heavier, pressing down with an immense force. Ikem’s legs sank into the earth, creating a deep impression beneath his feet.
The pillar’s function activated, and a flood of instinctive knowledge surged through Ikem—he now knew his destination. He turned back for one last look at his people before taking his first step. The earth trembled beneath him, the resounding boom echoing across the land.
Even as Ikem departed, his colossal form remained visible to all. The apelings watched in solemn silence, tears streaming down their faces, yet no one uttered a word.
The apelings of the five cursed clans exchanged glances before nodding to one another, each heading their separate ways. By tradition, they should have accompanied their father from the shadows, ensuring his safety as he carried the pillar. But the attack on the Terra clan had been a harsh lesson. Who was to say their divine counterparts wouldn’t seize this opportunity to strike again, hoping to throw their father off course?
To prevent such a risk, it had been agreed—by Ikem himself—that they would remain behind. The duty of protecting their people and clans now fell upon them.
As for those entrusted with Ikem’s protection, the apelings had spent centuries preparing. Anyone who dared interfere would soon witness the fruits of their relentless training.
Trailing from the shadows, cloaked figures moved in silence, ensuring Ikem’s path remained undisturbed. Further behind them, elite troops from the cursed apeling clans followed. Though they made no effort to hide, the cover of night rendered them nearly invisible.
Leading this silent vanguard were four key figures: Princess Myrrha, daughter of Terra; Ash, eldest son of Ember; Brook, son of Ripple; and Tula, daughter of Zephyr—Ikem’s most trusted guard.
Yet, only three of them could be seen. The fourth was nowhere in sight.
Suddenly, a figure materialized atop a tree, helmet in hand, watching over them all.
It was Tula. The others turned, finally noticing her arrival. "I have scouted ahead," she reported, her voice low and urgent. "No sign of enemy activity... yet."
"Yet," Ash echoed, his brow furrowed. "That’s what worries me. It’s too quiet." He adjusted the grip on the ancestral blade strapped to his back. "They wouldn’t just let him ascend unopposed."
Myrrha nodded, her expression grim. The attack on her clan still fresh in her memory. "They’re planning something. We need to be ready for anything." She gestured to the small contingent of elite guards flanking them, their forms barely visible in the darkness. "They’re relying on us. We can’t fail them."
Brook, ever the pragmatist, scanned the horizon. "Tula, anything on the other demigods’ positions? Are they encountering any resistance?"
Tula shook her head. "Comms are down. The surge of power from the pillars... it’s disrupting everything. We’re on our own for now."
A tense silence hung in the air, broken only by the distant, rhythmic boom of Ikem’s colossal footsteps. They were following him, but the vast distance between them and their father, coupled with the disrupted communication, made them feel unsettlingly isolated.
"We stick to the plan," Myrrha stated, her voice firm. "Tula, you continue scouting ahead. Ash, Brook, you stay with the guard. I’ll flank Ikem on the other side. We maintain visual contact as much as possible."
It was going to be a long night. The children weren’t the only ones keeping a vigilant watch over the demigods they were sworn to protect. Across the vast expanse of existence, the Origin Gods—those primordial beings who had shaped and safeguarded the world—turned their collective gaze toward the planet, observing, waiting.
But they were not alone.
For every god that stood in the light, there was a shadow cast in the realm beyond. A mirrored world, a reflection stripped of color and life, where only echoes of existence lingered. And in that void, the dark counterparts watched with equal intensity, knowing that the time to act had finally come.
They did not need to exert themselves. Not yet. The intricate dance between gods and mortals had rules, and they were willing to play by them—for now. Their task was simple: inform their zealots and pawns that the moment had arrived. Let the mortals clash. Let them struggle. Let them bleed. And in the chaos, the Origin Gods would be distracted, forced to abide by the very laws woven into reality.
