Chapter 49: Yuhao's Whisper
"Hahahaha, who would've thought? Two gods who embody fire and water, the most incompatible forces in existence—and yet, you two turned out to be lovers."
The mocking voice echoed within the Rakshasa Temple.
"Who's there?! Come out!" The Rakshasa Goddess gripped her scythe tightly, the Rakshasa Demon Scythe gleaming black in her furious grasp.
Ripples began to spread through the space around her.
Suddenly, chains emerged from those ripples—dozens of them—snaking out from every direction.
Caught off guard, the Rakshasa Goddess had no time to evade. The chains wrapped around her tightly, glowing with divine seals that suppressed her power. In an instant, her strength was sealed away; she couldn't even struggle.
A moment later, a shadow stepped forth from the darkness—a figure emerging from the very heart of her temple. The disguise fell away.
Huo Yuhao stood before her, cold and composed.
"It's you—the Eternal God!" the Rakshasa Goddess gasped. Her face twisted with fear, then suddenly with realization. "So it was you who schemed against my inheritor!"
"That's right," Huo Yuhao admitted easily. "Though, I wouldn't call it scheming. You gods plotted against her first. I merely unraveled your web, nothing more." He smiled faintly and tilted his head. "Now, why don't you tell me the truth about your relationship with Asura?"
The Rakshasa Goddess' eyes flickered, her voice unsteady. "You misunderstand. There's nothing between me and the Asura God."
"Ha. Even now, you still try to defend your old flame?" Huo Yuhao's tone turned sharp, mocking. Then he leaned forward slightly, his eyes glimmering like cold stars. "But tell me this—while you call him your beloved, has he ever truly loved you in return?"
"Silence!" she roared, her veins pulsing beneath her dark skin. "Even if you are an Eternal God King, I will not allow you to insult or sow discord between us!"
Huo Yuhao said nothing. Instead, he opened his divine sight. In the air between them, countless images appeared—visions from the past, showing the clandestine meetings between Asura and Rakshasa.
In them, the two whispered and planned—Asura playing judge and redeemer, Rakshasa doing the dirty work—their secret arrangement of chaos and order laid bare for all to see.
The Rakshasa Goddess' face twisted in humiliation. Then it struck her. Her tone sharpened. "Wait. You only became a god forty thousand years ago. How could you possibly know about these events from long before that?"
"I am the Eternal God," Huo Yuhao replied smoothly. "I govern the threads of fate. Every moment that has ever happened leaves a trace in the tapestry. I merely choose which threads to examine." His eyes glowed brighter. "Now tell me—if I were to show these memories to the heavens, do you think your precious Shura giegie could keep his divine throne?"
The Rakshasa Goddess forced a sneer. "Hmph. You could easily claim these to be falsified illusions. Everyone already knows you and my Shura giegie despise each other. No one would take your word over his."
"Perhaps," Huo Yuhao admitted. "But, Rakshasa… wouldn't you like to know what your dear Shura giegie truly thinks of you after you leave him?"
Her voice faltered. "What do you mean?"
Huo Yuhao's divine sight shifted again. The projection changed—this time showing Asura after she'd departed their secret meeting.
They both saw it clearly—Asura spitting contemptuously into the void, calling her filthy, boasting that once his 'precious one'—his great treasure—ascended, he would personally judge and destroy her.
"No…" The Rakshasa Goddess' blue lips trembled. "No! That's impossible. He's not that kind of god—my Shura giegie would never treat me that way!"
"You know him better than I," Huo Yuhao said softly. "You've simply refused to face the truth. Think, Rakshasa. Your crimes stretch farther than memory itself. The name 'Rakshasa' is spoken with dread across worlds—your destruction, your cruelty, your sin. And what of Shura? He's the shining judge who repeatedly 'saves' mortals from the evil you unleash. When the time comes to relinquish your thrones, imagine the scandal if you, the reviled goddess, openly stand beside the paragon of virtue.
"What would the other gods think of his hypocrisy? What would the mortal worlds say?"
Huo Yuhao leaned closer, his voice now a cold whisper. "Let's speak plainly—you're already tainted, Rakshasa. And Shura—so obsessed with his spotless image—will never tolerate you as his stain."
"Stop it!" she screamed, though the chains kept her still. Even suppressed, her fury manifested as shadowed energy overflowing into the room. "He's not like that… he's not…"
"In his grand scheme," Huo Yuhao continued, "you've been nothing more than a disposable pawn. This time, he's using you to exhaustion, squeezing out every last drop of your worth to fuel his precious one's growth. You've given him everything—and in return, he'll discard you like ash."
"Stop it! Enough! Please!" Her voice cracked; the goddess of darkness—once feared by legions—was begging now.
Truth, when it cuts deep, is sharper than any divine blade. She had always known—but never dared to truly accept it. She had sacrificed everything for him. How could she bear to face the end of that love?
"You call yourselves two of the same origin," Huo Yuhao whispered in her ear. "Yet he stands above you as the symbol of purity, while you bear the filth of the world for him. You let your name become synonymous with darkness so that his could shine brighter. Tell me, Rakshasa—the goddess who dirtied her hands for love—why?"
"Why… indeed?" she murmured, tears of pure shadow streaming down her face, twisting into rage. Her once-beautiful features contorted with hatred.
"From the dawn of time, you've walked beside him," Huo Yuhao went on. "Yet his care for you has never measured to even one-billionth of the devotion he's poured into that so-called 'precious one.' Shura's every effort, every dream, every piece of divine favor—all belong to his treasure. And you? You give everything you have, begging for a single glance, a single smile. Why? What does that mortal egg of a soul—your rival for his affection—have that you don't?"
At the mention of "the precious one," jealousy and resentment flared violently within the Rakshasa Goddess, burning hotter than ever before. She had walked with Shura since time immemorial—been his equal, his counterpart—but he gave his heart, his favors, his future to another.
Why? Why that wretched little Phoenix egg?
Huo Yuhao's voice remained soft, but every word struck harder. "You see, desperate devotion can never win love. In the end, your Shura giegie will drain the last of your value, then destroy you—and your chosen heir along with you. Two generations of Rakshasa, erased from existence. Used until the very last breath."
"Tell me… what's worse than that?"
The words left her lips before she realized it. "What… is worse than that?"
"Being forgotten," Huo Yuhao whispered. "That's the cruelest fate of all."
He leaned close. "To be hated… feared… even despised—that means you still matter. But when he forgets you entirely, you cease to exist. One day, when his sword pierces your heart and your blood stains it crimson, he will leave the Divine Realm behind. He'll roam the stars, meet another goddess who stirs his soul. They'll marry, bear their own child—their own precious one—and wander the void together. And you… you will be nothing but dust, long forgotten."
The Rakshasa Goddess froze. Forgotten?
The word struck harder than any curse. She could endure judgment, hate, even death… but to be forgotten—to be erased from his memory forever—no. Never.
Her body quaked violently, the chains rattling in fearsome rhythm. "No… I won't be forgotten," she whispered, almost to herself. "Even if he must hate me, I'd rather that… than be forgotten."
Her voice grew louder, trembling. "I won't let him forget me! Never!"
(END CHAPTER)
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