The battlefield was awash with chaos. Qirong, the Beast of Beasts, loomed like a living nightmare—his form rippling with a power that made the air itself quiver. His crimson gaze locked onto Dik, drawn not by the war, but by something far older, far more precious.
His voice was like grinding stone. "That necklace… give it to me."
The silver chain around Dik's neck gleamed faintly, as if aware of the danger. It was a treasure given by his mother—the Flower Queen—a relic older than most realms. Years ago, Qirong had desired her, and he knew of the necklace's significance. Now he wanted it for himself.
Dik's voice was cold, unwavering. "Never."
Qirong moved like a storm unleashed, ripping the necklace from Dik's neck with terrifying strength.
"Leave Dik alone!" Dikun's voice thundered across the battlefield. "Come at me! Don't make Dik cry!"
But Dik's scream pierced the war cries, raw and primal. "Give me back my necklace!"
With that scream, a change overtook him. His eyes flared red, the air around him trembling. That necklace—silent, unseen—had been his shield, hiding his true form for so long. Now, stripped of it, he could no longer contain what lay within.
The battlefield froze in awe and fear. Dik was no longer the Almighty Flower God. His form shifted, becoming far more terrifying than any god had ever imagined. His presence radiated ancient war-power, his aura a tempest of wrath and divinity.
With a single, blazing slash, Dik cleaved through Qirong. The Beast of Beasts fell, silenced forever. The air still shuddered from the impact.
Even Dik himself did not know how it had happened.
In the quiet that followed, a truth burned into the hearts of those who watched. Dik was not the son of the Heaven Emperor. He was the son of the great warrior Demon King.
Anger twisted Heaven King's face. "How could Heaven not be mine? How could he not be my son?" His voice was cold steel. He almost struck Dik down then and there.
But Dijun and Dikun intervened, shielding him. Without a word, they took Dik away, vanishing into the storm of battle.
And thus began another chapter of fate—a secret forged in love and blood, a name stolen, and a war that had yet to be fully written.
The hall of the Heaven Court was heavy with silence. Even the air seemed to tremble under the weight of what had just been revealed. Dik's true identity—the son of the great Demon King—hung between them like a blade.
Before the Heaven King could speak again, Dikun stepped forward and spoke with urgency. "Dijun this is not safe. Dik must be taken away for his safety."
Dijun nodded firmly. "We cannot allow him to be harmed before the truth is understood. Let us leave, brother."
Without another word, the two siblings turned and took Dik away, vanishing from the hall in a swirl of divine light. The Heaven King remained seated upon his throne, his expression unreadable, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest.
For days, the halls of Heaven remained tense. Whispers of Dik's lineage spread among gods, fueling unease. Finally, the Heaven King summoned Dikun and Dijun back into his presence. His voice carried the weight of authority.
"You may return Dik," he commanded, "but only under my promise that he will not be killed. I will decide his fate later."
Relief flashed across Dijun's face, though her eyes remained guarded. Dikun bowed deeply. "We swear to honor your command, Your Majesty."
With those words, they returned to the court, Dik walking between them, silent yet aware of the storm swirling around him.
Now, the confrontation resumed.
The Heaven King's gaze was cold steel, his voice unyielding. "Since he is the son of the Demon King, you will have to marry him, Dikun. Protect him yourself." His words echoed through the marble hall, final and unrelenting.
Dikun stepped forward, his expression resolute yet filled with anguish. "Your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider. Dik is innocent. He has just learned the truth of his bloodline. He is not a threat by choice. He is the only descendant of the Demon King—we cannot destroy what remains of his legacy. I swear, I will protect him."
The Heaven King's eyes narrowed, his voice carrying a dangerous weight. "Dik is the future king of Flower Realm. With the blood of the Demon King running through his veins, he will one day inherit their throne. And I fear… he will rebel for his dead father. To prevent this chaos, to protect the order of Heaven, it is better… that he dies."
Dikun's breath caught, his voice trembling yet unshaken. "Your Majesty… although he is not your son, Dragon Queen and Phoenix Queen have treated him as such. They have loved him as their own. Killing Dik will only sow mistrust and misunderstanding between the empresses and Your Majesty. I swear before Heaven itself, I will protect him. I will ensure there is no rebellion—at any cost."
The hall fell into silence once more. The sound of distant thunder seemed to echo the tension between them. The Heaven King stared at Dikun long and hard, the weight of an emperor's decision pressing heavily upon his shoulders.
Finally, his voice broke the stillness—sharp, decisive. "Then you have your answer, Dikun. The fate of Dik rests in your hands. If you fail, Heaven will pay the price."
Dikun bowed deeply, his eyes locked on Dik. "I will not fail,. I swear it."
And beneath that vow lay something unspoken—a bond stronger than blood, stronger than oath. A bond forged not in duty alone, but in love.
In the shadows of the Heaven Court, a storm began to stir.
The news spread through Heaven like the first rays of dawn. The Heaven King had decreed it—Dikun and Dik were to be bound by marriage. For most, it was a cause for celebration, a union that promised stability between realms, a binding of strength and legacy.
The grand halls of Heaven shimmered with joy. Celestial banners fluttered in brilliant colors, the air filled with laughter and music. Gods and immortals alike rejoiced, sending blessings to the couple. The Flower Realm's name shone brighter than ever, the promise of its future secured.
Dikun stood quietly among the crowd, his hand brushing the pendant around Dik's neck. His gaze was unwavering, full of resolve. Dik, for his part, was uncharacteristically silent—his crimson eyes reflecting the mingled storm of emotions within him. But even in silence, a faint smile lingered upon his lips.
Yet, in the midst of Heaven's jubilation, one stood apart.
Sen Ruyon—the Crown Prince of the Ghost Realm—watched from the shadows. His mind could not accept the news. His chest tightened with a mix of longing and jealousy that he could neither deny nor understand. The thought of Dik bound to another, even by the promise of marriage, stirred something darker within him.
He clenched his fists, his voice barely a whisper. "No… this cannot be. Dik… you are mine."
His words were lost among the laughter and joy of the celebration, but they carried weight—silent and sharp, like a dagger in the night.
Sen Ruyon turned away, his mind restless, his heart ensnared in obsession. The crowd's happiness was nothing to him. For him, Dik was no longer simply a god—he was an obsession, a desire that burned brighter than any war, deeper than any vow.
His fingers curled tightly around the hilt of his sword. "He is mine," he whispered to the empty air. "No one will have him. No one."
That possessiveness was unlike anything he had ever known. Not for a weapon. Not for power. Not even for the throne he would one day inherit. But for Dik… it was an obsession, a hunger that consumed him quietly yet completely.
He thought of the way Dik moved—calm, untouchable, yet radiating a strength that made his heart ache.
Sen Ruyon stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous. "Dik… you are not meant to belong to anyone else. Not Dikun, not Heaven, not even your own fate. You are mine."
And in that quiet darkness, a promise formed in Sen Ruyon's heart:
He would have Dik, no matter the cost.
Even if it meant defying Heaven itself.