Chapter 48: Shura Giegie
The Asura God said coldly, "Remember—your inheritor may serve as my treasure's stepping stone, but if she so much as harms him, I'll hold you personally accountable."
The Rakshasa Goddess rolled her eyes. Your 'precious treasure'? He's the favored child of the Asura God King himself—you've poured all your divine power into nurturing him, hoarding nearly every opportunity in the Douluo era just for him. He feasts on the bounty of fate while everyone else is left licking the scraps from his bowl. Meanwhile, my inheritor is forbidden from ascending before your darling, receives no divine rewards, and gets only a meager godhood and a single artifact.
And you think she could harm your prodigy? The Rakshasa Goddess honestly couldn't imagine how that was even possible.
"Fine, fine," she said sourly. "Before she ascends, I'll keep watch over her myself. I won't let your precious one suffer so much as a paper cut." Then, with mocking sweetness, she added, "Honestly, anyone overhearing you would think that little darling of yours was your illegitimate son."
With that jab, she suddenly leaned in close and took a deep sniff, her lips curling. "Shura giegie," she purred, "why don't we make a little treasure of our own right now?"
The Asura God pushed her away sharply, face darkening. "Enough! Don't be ridiculous. You forget our positions. If word of this gets out, what will others think of me? And stop—stop talking to me in that nauseating tone."
As tendrils of black energy began to coil around the Rakshasa Goddess again, the Asura God quickly switched to a stern but placating tone. "Listen. I promise you, once this matter is resolved, I will leave my duties behind. Then—yes—we'll make as many of our little treasures as you desire. Alright?"
The dark energy subsided. She looked at him suspiciously. "You swear it?"
"Of course. My word as Asura is iron—unyielding and unbroken. Now go. It's late. Don't linger here and risk being found."
Reluctantly, the Rakshasa Goddess left their secret meeting space. Before stepping through the void, she turned back to remind him, "You'd better mean what you said this time."
When she vanished, the Asura God's expression twisted with disgust. He spat in her direction several times.
"Rakshasa, you're filthy," he muttered coldly. "I, the great Asura God—pure, impartial, the judge of good and evil—how could I ever truly associate with one as tainted as you? If not for my precious one's need for your assistance, do you think I would ever condescend to lower myself like this?"
He snorted indignantly. "Just wait. When your inheritor descends and falls to corruption, my treasure will be the one to judge her. And when that day comes, I'll judge you as well. To think you dream of exploring the cosmos at my side—you, of all beings, dare to dream that?"
With that bitter sneer, the Asura God left the chamber of shadows.
In most worlds, opposing forces never coexist: light versus darkness, good against evil, water against fire. But in the romanticized universe of Douluo, such oppositions were blurred into absurd harmony. Here, the God of Good and the God of Evil weren't enemies—they were lovers. The Gods of Life and Destruction, too, had wed and were praised as immortal soulmates.
Among the original five God Kings before Huo Yuhao's rise, only one remained apart: the Asura God.
Was the Asura really loveless, then? Hardly. His very essence was born in tandem with the Rakshasa—both emerging from the same primordial source, two halves of a mirror, eternally opposed yet hopelessly entangled. In this strange, love-drunk Douluo cosmos, they were an ancient pair of on-and-off lovers.
Still, unlike the public unions of Life and Destruction or Good and Evil, their relationship was shadowed and secret. Before the pantheon, they appeared as mortal enemies. When the Rakshasa spread chaos and darkness across worlds, the Asura would descend in righteous fury to "judge" her crimes. The other gods saw them as bitter foes fated to annihilate each other. Anyone suggesting otherwise would have been deemed insane.
Their divine statuses also differed greatly. Because she was constantly judged and bound by Asura's laws, the Rakshasa Goddess remained at the peak of First-Class Divinity, while Asura stood high as one of the true God Kings. Her reputation was stained—reviled as a corrupter, isolated and friendless in the divine realm. Meanwhile, the Asura's reputation gleamed untarnished; he was praised as fair, just, and pure as holy ice.
Returning to her lonely temple, the Rakshasa Goddess seethed.
She had loved Shura giegie since the moment of her creation. Yet even she couldn't lie to herself anymore—he had changed.
Back then, when he sought to strengthen his dominion, he'd made her his "black glove." All the dirty work, all the sins and shadows—he offloaded them onto her. She would stir chaos and he would descend afterward, radiant and merciful, to claim glory as the noble judge who cleansed the world.
But love can make a fool of anyone. The Rakshasa Goddess told herself it was worth it—that love was about sacrifice. So she played her role, sowing death and exile under his orders, even as she was dragged time and again before his divine tribunal to be condemned publicly as the villain.
For thousands of years, she endured it—without complaint.
Until, of course, Shura giegie climbed higher and higher in the heavens, distancing himself from her, polishing his "righteous" image while treating her like contamination. If not for his latest plan—his scheme to usher his "precious one" down to the mortal world—he wouldn't have spoken to her for centuries. In the mortal timeline, that translated to tens of thousands of years.
Bitterness welled up inside her. The thought of that so-called precious heir—the one he devoted himself to—filled her heart with burning jealousy.
Should I sabotage this 'treasure' of his?
For a fleeting moment, she truly considered it.
But then her body trembled. She had plotted against his former inheritors before. They had been weak, unremarkable—hardly worth Asura's concern. But this time… no. With how deeply he adored his new heir, if she dared touch even a hair on that precious mortal's head, their fragile relationship would shatter forever—and Asura would destroy her without hesitation.
"Forget it," she muttered bitterly. "I've been his shadow, his black glove, for eons already. What's one more time?"
With a sigh, she summoned her divine sight to check on her chosen inheritor. "Ah, my poor successor," she murmured darkly. "It's your misfortune to have caught his attention. But this is the price of fulfilling Shura giegie's promise to me."
But the moment her divine sight opened, her expression froze.
Instantly, her godly armor materialized around her, her once-seductive beauty twisting into something monstrous and terrifying.
She grasped the Rakshasa Scythe and roared across the heavens, "Who dares?! Who has interfered with my inheritor!?"
The aura around her thickened with suffocating darkness. If her successor failed to complete Shura giegie's assigned task, then she could never stand beside him. That dreadful realization filled her with wrath.
The shadows of the divine realm trembled beneath her fury.
(END CHAPTER)
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