"Jericho… we have already explained the hierarchy of the gods to you," Nous began calmly.
"And the ones who stand above us all—the Supreme Gods." She nodded once. "There is a reason there are three races on Earth."
Jericho listened closely.
"There are three Supreme Gods who desired beings made in their image. First, the Supreme God of the Underworld, creator and patron of the Demonoids. Second, the All Father—the god of humans and the universe itself. And lastly… the Supreme God of the Ancients, whom you know today as the progenitor of the Drakziels."
Jericho swallowed.
"Jericho," Zoe continued gently, "the version of Earth you currently live on… is not the original Earth."
Jericho's eyes widened instantly.
She raised a hand before panic could set in. "Let me rephrase. Your Earth is authentic. It is real. But it is not the first of its kind in this universe."
Jericho exhaled in relief—but only for a second.
{Not the first…?}
The realization struck him a moment later.
"What… do you mean by that?" he asked quietly.
Zoe's expression darkened.
"Long ago," she said, "this universe belonged to the Supreme God of the Ancients—the middle brother among the three. It was a world far more advanced than the one you know now. Filled with wonders, knowledge, and unity."
She gestured outward, as if painting the scene in the air.
"Ancients, Demonoids, and Humans lived together. No discrimination. No division. They worked side by side, improving the world together. They were entrusted to the care of the God of the Ancients and his divine subordinates."
Her voice hardened.
"But everything changed… when he became greedy."
She looked toward the distant light of Ego Elysium.
"He grew jealous of his elder brother—the All Father. The God of Gods. King of Kings. Ruler of everything… including the territory entrusted to the God of the Ancients."
Zoe fell silent.
Nea Zoi stepped forward, his expression unusually grim.
"So he began a crusade," Nea Zoi said. "A devastating one. To seize control of all creation. To dethrone his brother and take his place."
Jericho felt a chill crawl down his spine.
"He created beings—catastrophic abominations," Nea Zoi continued. "Creatures that knew nothing but destruction. Darkness incarnate."
His voice lowered.
"They were unleashed upon Earth… your Earth. The previous one."
Jericho's breath caught.
"Those monsters wiped out nearly everything. Humans. Demonoids. Drakziels. No race was spared. Entire civilizations vanished. And once his army was complete, the God of the Ancients waged war on the Heavens, the Underworld, and Ego Elysium itself."
Nea Zoi clenched his fists.
"He sought to destroy everything… then rebuild it as the one true god."
Bios stepped forward, his voice heavy with memory.
"These abominations were called Dragon Gods," he said. "They far surpassed even the greater dragons. They were the direct children of the God of the Ancients—beings of immense power and absolute malice."
Jericho felt sick.
"We joined forces with the Underworld to stop them," Bios continued. "It was a war beyond comprehension. Entire planets vanished. Universes collapsed. Gods and demons alike were erased."
He paused.
"Earth itself was hanging by a thread."
Bios looked directly at Jericho.
"Even united, we were losing. The Dragon Gods were unnatural… and with their father leading them, hope was fading."
Then his eyes softened.
"Until the All Father intervened."
Jericho held his breath.
"He fought personally," Bios said. "Alone. He turned the tide of the war himself. He created a new dimension, sealed his brother within it… and banished the surviving Dragon Gods into a separate universe, one unknown to all."
Silence fell.
"Peace was finally restored to the multiverse," Bios concluded.
Jericho stood frozen, horror etched across his face.
Meta stepped forward, her voice quiet—sad.
"But the damage was already done," she said. "Countless universes lost. Worlds erased. Gods… friends… gone."
She lowered her gaze.
"That war became known as the Supreme War of the Gods."
Then she looked up.
"And this is where Pluto enters the story."
Jericho stiffened.
"He lost someone precious during the war," Meta said softly. "Someone he revered more than the All Father himself."
She sighed.
"His father—the former God of Wealth."
Nea Zoi nodded. "Even before that loss, Pluto was never… gentle. Nor cruel. He simply didn't care about anything beyond his father."
His expression darkened.
"When he lost him… Pluto broke."
Nous shook her head slowly. "He clashed with the All Father repeatedly. Punishment after punishment. Yet he never stopped."
She let out a quiet, regretful chuckle.
"Perhaps we should have noticed how far he had fallen sooner."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Pluto's plan is to create his own Dragon Gods."
Jericho's blood ran cold.
"He believes the gods are incompetent," Nous continued. "Selfish. Weak. And so he intends to destroy them all."
She paused.
"Even the All Father."
Jericho felt dizzy.
"He wishes to rule as the one true god," she finished. "And I am certain this is the part he and Jace have hidden from their subordinates."
Jericho clenched his fists.
"…This is insane," he muttered. "He's planning to start another Supreme War."
Then his voice trembled.
"And Earth… my Earth… if the races didn't go extinct, why did everything become so primitive? Why did humans lose all knowledge of soul energy? Why are we divided… when we once lived together?"
He looked at Zoe.
"And why did you say this Earth isn't the first… if it never fully ended?"
Bios stepped forward.
"Eons ago," he said, "we gods freely walked among mortals. We guided them. Settled disputes. Helped them grow."
He sighed.
"That freedom… became a mistake."
After the war, rules were established—to limit divine interference. To divide responsibility. To prevent such catastrophe from ever happening again."
He looked at Jericho intently.
"That is why each race serves different gods. Why not all truths apply to all beings."
Bios continued, "The All Father withheld soul energy from humans… intentionally. Humans resemble him the most. With such power, they would surpass all others—dangerously so."
Jericho listened in silence.
"As for the survivors of the ancient world," Bios added, "their memories were erased. Of the war. Of us. Of soul energy. The races were separated by design."
He nodded once.
"It was the will of the All Father."
Jericho whispered, "So… it's like he pressed a reset button on Earth."
The gods nodded.
"Do not speak of this to anyone," Zoe said firmly. "This truth is not meant for humanity."
Jericho nodded immediately.
Nous smiled softly.
"As for the Divine Avatars of Nature… the answer lies in their name."
Jericho blinked, confused.
"All divine energy originates from the All Father," she explained. "To maintain balance across all worlds, he created the Divine Avatars of Nature… and of Chaos."
"They govern everything," she continued. "Time. Space. Seasons. Life. Balance itself."
She met his gaze.
"And yes—they possess will. Consciousness. They choose their wielder."
Meta smiled warmly.
"All four chose you," she said proudly. "You are the first god-class being to wield all Divine Avatars of Nature."
Nea Zoi burst into laughter. "You're becoming a real monster, Jericho! I pity your enemies—"
POW!
Meta smacked him.
"Like you're one to talk, you lazy lunatic!"
"Owww!" Nea Zoi yelped as the others laughed.
Jericho exhaled shakily.
"Wow… this is truly a lot to take in all at once…"
Jericho stared at the gods in silence as the weight of their revelations settled upon him.
"I needed to know this. Now I can think about my next move with clarity. Thank you… all of you."
He hesitated, then turned his gaze toward Desmos.
"And Lord Desmos… about the ability you blessed me with… I believe it's beginning to awaken."
Desmos' expression sharpened slightly.
"I sensed it when I was about to face my bro—" he paused, correcting himself, "—Jace. It felt as though I could sense the emotions of those around me. Not hear their thoughts word for word… but understand their desires. Their hidden intentions. Even the ones they try to bury."
He exhaled slowly.
"And more than that… it felt like I could shape those desires into reality — either gently… or cruelly — through illusion."
"I see…" Desmos smiled, though there was gravity behind it. "That is indeed a promising sign, Jericho."
His tone shifted — no longer warm, but firm.
"But you must be extremely careful. Do not invoke this ability unless you are absolutely certain you have full control over it. It is… complex. Delicate. One miscalculation could lead to consequences you cannot undo."
The chamber grew quieter.
"Until you master it, do not rely on it. I will continue guiding you until you fully understand what it means to wield such power."
Jericho straightened, noting the seriousness in Desmos' voice.
"Understood, my lord."
He then bowed slightly to the others.
"My lords, my ladies… I will now depart to carry out my mission in the Mist Mountains, as we discussed. It was truly good to see you again. I will return soon."
"It was good to see you as well, Jericho," Nous said with a gentle smile. "Were our answers sufficient?"
"Yes, my lady," Jericho replied warmly. "Your explanations satisfied my immediate concerns. I do have more questions… but they can wait until we meet again. Nothing urgent."
"Excellent," Bios said. "We will always be here to guide you. That is our duty as your gods."
"Thank you… all of you. I'll see you soon."
His consciousness began to fade from the divine realm, drifting back toward his body on Earth.
"Goodbye, Jericho!" Zoe called out urgently. "Be careful… and believe in your abilities!"
Her voice echoed just as he vanished.
Silence lingered in his absence.
After a moment, Nous glanced toward Desmos.
"Desmos… are you alright?"
"Yes… I'm fine." He smiled faintly. "It's just that what Jericho described… differs slightly from the ability I granted him."
The other gods exchanged confused looks.
Desmos' smile deepened — thoughtful, almost amused.
"I advise you all to prepare yourselves."
"For another Jericho surprise."
⸻
Nass and her subordinates finally secured lodging at a quiet inn. After dinner and a long-overdue wash, they gathered in a private chamber. The exhaustion of travel lingered in the air — but something else did too.
Concern.
"Lady Nass…" one of her subordinates began cautiously. "You've been acting differently since we arrived in this nation. Are we missing something? Is it… not as you remember?"
Nass exhaled slowly.
"Oh, it's different," she said. "Different in ways that trouble me deeply. Conquering the Demonoid Continent will not be as simple as Lord Jace expects."
The room stilled.
"So… this unity we've seen… it isn't normal?"
"Normal?" Nass gave a hollow laugh. "This continent has always lived by one rule — survival of the fittest. The strong dominate. The weak kneel… or perish. Demonoid nations despised one another. Border wars were constant. Alliances were temporary and usually ended in betrayal. If you lacked strength, this place was hell."
Her eyes darkened.
"But now? There are fewer scowls and more smiles. Trade agreements. Resource sharing. Diplomatic envoys traveling safely between rival territories. Do you understand what that means?"
Silence.
"Sharing resources between Demonoid nations used to be considered treason — punishable by death. Now it is policy."
Her subordinate swallowed.
"This information… the young master must know."
"Yes," Nass replied. "But how he receives it… that is the real concern."
She leaned back, gaze distant.
"This mission just became far more complicated."
⸻
Preparations for the mission to the Mist Mountains were well underway.
Under Jericho's direction, the elite knights trained relentlessly. But it wasn't only the soldiers who pushed themselves — Jericho and his companions did the same.
Jericho devoted his time to the strange ability he had sensed back in Warmark. It lingered at the edge of his awareness — something vast, something waiting. He experimented carefully, testing its limits, trying to understand how it functioned and how to wield it without losing control.
It was powerful.
Too powerful to mishandle.
Erica, meanwhile, spent countless hours mastering the sword Princess Clover had gifted her in Warmark. The blade responded almost too well to her strength. She had to learn restraint — to temper her swings, refine her balance, and merge the weapon seamlessly with her natural fighting style rather than overpowering everything in her path.
Weeks passed.
By the time the decision was made, they were ready.
Or as ready as one could be before entering the Mist.
Before their departure, Erica appointed two capable knights to oversee operations in her absence. Orders were clear. Protocols were reinforced.
Security around the castle had tightened significantly.
Patrol rotations doubled. Watchtowers remained manned at all hours. Even the inner gates were guarded more heavily than usual. Whether it was caution after the disaster at Warmark — still fresh in every soldier's mind — or simply unwillingness to risk vulnerability while their commander was away, no one intended to be caught unprepared again.
At the courtyard, Clover's creation awaited them.
The vehicle she had designed specifically for Jericho stood sleek and refined, its surface catching the light with quiet elegance.
Alice and William stared in open awe.
They had seen it from a distance before — but never like this. Never this close.
When they stepped inside, the interior stole their breath.
The seats were impossibly soft yet supportive, the air within warm and controlled. Strange levers, dials, and embedded mechanisms lined the interior — intricate and mysterious. To them, it felt less like transportation and more like stepping into the future.
"A masterpiece…" William muttered under his breath.
Jericho took his seat at the front.
He closed his eyes briefly, focusing.
With a subtle infusion of soul energy, the core awakened.
The vehicle hummed — so softly it almost sounded like silence.
He adjusted a small lever.
There was no violent roar. No jolt.
Just smooth motion.
They began to move.
Then accelerate.
Faster than horses.
Faster than anything they had ever traveled on before.
The landscape blurred.
Alice gripped the seat, half thrilled, half stunned. William laughed in disbelief. Even Erica allowed herself a faint smile as the kingdom walls faded behind them.
It was unfamiliar.
It was exhilarating.
And it was only the beginning.
Because this… was the future.