Their adaptability… all of this made them stronger than gods, Irene said.
"So in conclusion, we can help them harness their will instead?" Lucian asked.
"Yes," Irene confirmed. "With their will, mortals can nourish their souls and grow into beings with power. That is what gods do."
"No," Irene refuted firmly. "Gods are like mini-universes unto themselves. They already contain all the laws within them. They don't need to communicate with Heaven or any realm to use it — it is internal."
"But with will," Irene continued, "mortals can follow the path of the Chaos beings. They will grow strong until their own essence becomes a law itself."
Lucian's chest tightened at the thought. The idea made him jumpy — yet it thrilled him.
"Yes," Irene said. "The Chaos beings have been guiding others like themselves. They are very few — not even ten of them. But if they knew more souls could help manage the ever-increasing laws, they would rejoice."
Lucian smiled, feeling a spark of hope. "It's a win-win," he said. "More people to help manage the laws… and mortals who grow strong enough to protect themselves against any threat."
For a moment, the tension in the air lifted. Lucian laughed softly, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness of the Primordial Realm. Irene's stern features softened, and a small, rare smile tugged at her lips.
"Finally," Lucian said, "a plan that doesn't end with me running for my life."
Irene chuckled quietly, the sound like the flicker of flames in a quiet hearth. "Don't get used to it," she teased, but the light in her eyes betrayed her amusement.
The two of them shared a brief moment of levity, a rare pause from the weight of worlds and destinies — just Lucian and the Red Knight, planning the impossible, and finding joy in the possibility that mortals could rise beyond the gods themselves.
"Get ready, Lucian," Irene said after the brief pause, regaining her composure. "We need your essence to craft a spell strong enough to reach all. Ordinary mortals will become pillars of the realm — the foundation for existence itself. That is what the Chaos beings call them."
"What?!" Lucian exclaimed, disbelief washing over him. My essence? My life force? No way! He refused outright. The burden of protecting the Primordial Realm already felt heavy enough — and he could always retreat to Heaven if it became too much. Mercedes? His uncle Zerathos would ensure she was safe.
Irene expected his reaction.
"You think you can always return home if you tire of protecting this realm, don't you?" she asked, her gaze sharp. She had known Lucian longer than anyone — she practically grew up with him.
"Definitely," Lucian replied matter-of-factly.
A small smile flickered across Irene's lips. She understood why Heaven had sent Lucian to the Primordial Realm: for him to grow. And, perhaps, to prepare for another civil war.
"Try communicating with Heaven," she instructed.
Lucian frowned suspiciously but obeyed. Yet, for reasons he could not understand, he could not pass through. Heaven itself seemed locked.
"What did you do?" he demanded, incredulous.
"I did nothing," Irene said calmly. "Heaven is at war."
Lucian froze. He knew Irene — she never lied. If she said Heaven was at war, then it truly was. And yet… it had been peaceful when he had left.
"There is a little world hidden within this realm," Irene said after a long pause. "It is not a war between the gods and the Otaenians — they wouldn't dare. No… it is a war between the gods and the dragons."
Lucian's eyes widened. "A fragment of Heaven that stretches into the Primordial Realm?" He realized, with a pang of regret, that he had not taken his duties seriously. That world — the world of the Dragonry, the 'Black Land' — had been entrusted to him.
"Yes," Irene confirmed. "The Primordial Realm is shielded by Heaven. That is why you cannot see the Void. But this fragment of Heaven, though small, is built upon the Primordial Realm."
"While I was in Heaven, I observed it," she continued. "The dragons opened it for humans to inhabit, but Odin and Zeus prevented it."
Lucian blinked, surprised. "The All-Father interfered?"
"Yes," Irene replied. "Zeus is understandable, but Odin… he is a god who calculates every step meticulously."