The world beneath the shattered sky trembled.
The Abyss had been checked. The Demon Lord was gone. Humanity had survived its first true test.
Yet, the heavens did not remain silent.
Far above the mortal realm, in the endless hall of divine thrones, the gods convened. Golden light warped around their forms as they whispered, argued, and glared at one another.
"Aurelius Valen… he dares to erase a Demon Lord?" a goddess hissed, her eyes glowing like molten suns.
"This is unacceptable," a god replied, his voice echoing like thunder across the celestial hall.
"He is no mere human. He wields authority that even we cannot ignore," another said calmly.
The discussions turned into a tense debate, thrones shifting under the weight of anger, fear, and calculation.
---
On the mortal plane, the Imperial Capital was buzzing with activity.
Legions repaired, civilians rebuilt, and messengers ran across the empire carrying news of Aurelius's victory.
But the air was heavy. Even without seeing the heavens, everyone could feel it.
The wind carried an unseen pressure—a weight beyond mortal comprehension.
Aurelius stood at the center of the World Throne chamber, his expression calm.
"The gods are stirring," he said quietly to his guardians.
"They will send their envoys soon."
One guardian stepped forward, hesitant.
"Your Majesty… do we respond? Do we strike first?"
Aurelius's eyes narrowed.
"No," he said.
"Let them reveal their intentions. The moment they act, they will show their weakness."
---
Far away, hidden in the shadows of the upper heavens, divine agents began descending to the mortal realm.
Gods and goddesses in disguise, subtle, observing, testing humanity's resilience, measuring Aurelius.
One figure—a goddess with eyes like fractured starlight—landed at a remote village.
Her presence was almost invisible, yet the crops withered instantly, the river paused in its flow, and villagers felt an unnatural cold.
"Patience," she whispered.
"The World Emperor is strong… but the heavens are patient."
---
Back at the capital, Aurelius's gaze pierced the distant horizon.
He could feel the first stirrings of divine strategy—the subtle shifts in reality, the tightening threads of law the gods still controlled.
A faint smile appeared.
"Let them come," he murmured.
"They will learn that no god can dictate this world without consequences."
The first wave of the divine had begun.
This was only the beginning.