Chapter 72 A deity descends

Words : 717 Updated : Sep 24th, 2025

As night descended upon the mortal realm, specifically the vast desert where the Daryen Valley's civilisation slumbered, Hesuas materialized. The transition from the divine realm to the earthly plane was not a journey but a dissolution and reconstruction of divine essence. The desert night was alive—not with silence, but with a symphony of subtle movements. A small herd of scorpions, their exoskeletons glinting like obsidian under starlight, existed in a delicate ecosystem of survival. As Hesuas walked among them, these creatures—normally territorial and aggressive—parted like living liquid, recognizing a power far beyond their comprehension. Near a fire that burned with unnatural steadiness, a man sat. Seven feet of raw, primal presence, his skin was a landscape of cracks and fissures, telling stories of battles fought in realms beyond mortal understanding. Daurgien—a name that carried the weight of raw, unfiltered power. He did not rise. He did not acknowledge Hesuas' arrival. He didn't care about the latter's level or his status. Hesuas' patience, vast as the cosmic spaces he traversed, allowed this momentary disrespect. "The plan?" he stated, was more a demand than a question. Daurgien's response was a grunt that contained volumes. "It is prepared," he said, his voice like granite being ground against itself. "Everything moves as calculated." With a gesture, Hesuas produced a small, perfectly round glass bottle. Within its transparent walls, a single droplet moved—not with the predictability of liquid, but with a sentience that suggested consciousness. The blood of a deity: a substance more potent than entire civilisations, more dangerous than the collective ambitions of a thousand kingdoms. He placed the bottle before Daurgien; he was willing to give a drop of blood to a mortal. That single drop makes a normal human into a strong and fierce being. In some cases, the drop can turn humans into savage creatures and make them go berserk. The gods had forbidden to use of the blood of immortal beings, but Hesuas was willing to go to such lengths. Their discussion had dragged into heated debates for hours. What should have been a straightforward solution to the disappearances had instead left them with more questions than answers. The Jarl's voice, deep and gravelly, finally broke through the tension. "I'll show you what we're up against," Daus said, his tone resigned yet edged with frustration. The group descended the castle's broad steps and moved toward the viewing platform overlooking the valley. The settlement below, usually lively even at night, was deathly quiet. Lights in the windows flickered faintly, but no one dared to venture outside. Doors and shutters were bolted shut, as though even the houses themselves sought protection from an unseen menace. The whole valley was silent; everybody locked themselves in. Not a single soul was seen outside. The wind whistle was the only sound that broke the eerie stillness, sending shivers down their spines. The air grew thick, viscous—no longer simply atmosphere but something more malevolent. Suddenly, a piercing, inhuman screech split the night air, originating from the valley's southern edge. The sound was eerie, vibrating through the very stones beneath their feet. "Something's wrong," Belan said sharply, her hand instinctively gripping the hilt of her blade. Without hesitation, she and the others sprinted toward the source of the sound. The screech led them to a modest house among the settlement. The scene before them was chaotic—one of the walls had been violently shattered, splinters of wood and stone littering the ground. Inside, a man and woman were wailing inconsolably, their cries a mixture of despair and terror. "Our daughter! She's gone!" The father cried, clutching his chest as though the pain was physical. Belan knelt beside them, her voice steady but urgent. "What did you see? What happened?" The man shook his head, trembling. "We heard something—like claws against the wall—and then... nothing. She screamed, and when we came out, she was gone." There were no signs of an intruder—no footprints, no trails of blood, nothing to indicate what had taken the girl. It was as if she had vanished into thin air. The group spread out, scouring the surrounding streets, but the emptiness was unyielding. Belan, however, felt an odd pull, an instinct she couldn't explain. Find adventures at empire

Chapter 72 A deity descends

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