In Gods relam neither Destruction, Life, Evil or Kindness wanted to start a fight with somone they didn't have any issues with Zhongli. But Asura was different, he was very angry.
Inside the gleaming halls of Poseidon's palace, where once serene oceanic light filled the chamber, but the atmosphere was very tense.
Asura, the former pinnacle of divine might, clenched his golden artificial arm as divine energy crackled violently around him. The table beneath his fist fractured with a resonating crack, echoing his rage.
Both Asura and Poseidon bore the scars of there fight with Zhongli, where they once divine flesh had pulsed with godly might, now gleamed forged replacements—Asura's right arm a golden construct of celestial metal, humming faintly with rage, while Poseidon's legs were replaced by sleek, oceanic prosthetics that glimmered like obsidian under waterlight.
Asura, once a peak Level 150 God King whose mere presence could shake realms, had fallen to a mere shadow of his former self. Now, barely a Level 135 Half-God King, he was forced to rely on a golden artificial arm, pulsing faintly with borrowed power—his divine core fractured and unstable.
Poseidon had fared little better. Once standing tall at Level 129 as a First Class God, he had been dragged down to Level 115, perilously close to the threshold that would demote him to a Second Class deity. His lower limbs—now sleek prosthetics forged from divine alloys and sea-god relics—allowed him movement, but not the majesty he once commanded.
Their strength had been patched together by desperation. But nothing could fully restore what had been lost.
"They're cowards!" Asura snarled, his eyes glowing with murderous intensity.
"Destruction and Evil speak of caution like children scared of lightning. That thing walks free with the Dragon God's legacy at his fingertips—and they dare say he means no harm?"
His voice shook the palace walls, and even the divine guards outside shivered slightly from the oppressive killing intent leaking from the chamber.
Across from him, Poseidon sat slumped on his coral throne, eyes dark and hollow. His once-tranquil oceanic aura was now turbulent and wild, like a storm trapped in a bottle. He muttered bitterly:"I lost my legs, Asura. My divine ocean recoils from me… I feel like a cripple in my own domain."
Then his face twisted with scorn.
"He walks into our world, revives what even the gods deemed impossible, and the others call him a miracle?" His tone dripped venom.
Asura leaned forward, voice low but deadly.
"I don't care if the balance is disrupted. I want that man eradicated—body, soul, and mark. He is no god. He is a crack in the order we built."
Poseidon exhaled heavily, leaning forward as well."Then we go around the others. We prepare. If Destruction and Evil won't help, we find someone who will."
Their eyes met. In that moment, a silent pact was formed:
If the Divine Realm wouldn't move against Zhongli… they would.
A heavy silence settled in Poseidon's palace, broken only by the distant roar of waves echoing beyond its crystal walls. Divine light flickered off the polished marble floor, casting warped reflections of the two gods seated at the obsidian table.
Asura's single golden prosthetic arm clenched with a soft metallic click. His crimson eyes gleamed with murderous certainty as he growled,"We can use the will of the universe itself to destroy him."
Poseidon's ocean-blue gaze narrowed, the currents around him stilling with sudden alertness."You're talking about that project of yours—the 'False Son of the Plane.' The soul transplant experiment. You said you hadn't found a viable candidate."
Asura leaned forward, the ambient shadows deepening around him.
"I haven't. Not yet." His voice was low, predatory. "But we don't need perfection to test the waters. Tang Chen... and your priestess—they're ideal pawns. The Clear Sky Clan now bears the luck of the world. If we let Tang Chen challenge Zhongli, the universe itself will move to protect its chosen."
A cruel smile tugged at the edge of his lips. "The backlash on Zhongli will be inevitable. After even Dragon God fell victim to Way of the Universe."
Poseidon leaned back, his expression unreadable as ocean currents twisted in the air around him."So we're using Tang Chen and Bo Saixi as bait." His voice was flat, but not disapproving—merely calculating.
Asura smirked coldly, the artificial limb on his shoulder pulsing with restrained killing intent.
"Not just bait. Tang Chen is the perfect vessel. He's arrogant, driven, chosen by the Asura God—I made sure of that long ago. If Zhongli kills him or even suppresses him, the will of the universe will tilt in our favor. The backlash will mark Zhongli."
Poseidon narrowed his eyes."You're playing with fate, Asura. If this fails, and the Dragon Clan unites behind him…"
"Then we escalate," Asura interrupted firmly.
"That's why I've been creating the Fake Son of the Plane. If Tang Chen dies, he'll become a test case—a precursor to a successor who's tailor-made to burn Zhongli out of existence."
Poseidon was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly."Then we prepare. I'll inform Bo Saixi in secret. Let her believe it's the will of the sea."
A small smirk appeared."And Tang Chen… he won't even realize he's being used."
Asura's expression darkened with satisfaction."Let the Dragon God's pet taste the same fate he gave us—loss, despair, betrayal. And when the universe turns against him…"
He clenched his artificial fist, divine sparks flickering."…we crush him."
Poseidon's brows furrowed, his fingers drumming against the table like raindrops on a stormy sea."And if they fail?"
Asura cut him off with a lazy shrug, his red aura simmering like a storm held barely in check."We'll extract them before it's too late."
He leaned in, crimson eyes locking with Poseidon's."If the other God Kings start sniffing around..."
A dark grin tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Then I'll handle it. One way or another, I always do."
Poseidon said nothing, but the glint in his eyes reflected the rising tide of unrest.