Chapter 1285 The Pantheon Gods
Chapter 1285 The Pantheon Gods
As Andohr settled onto his throne, Seraphine, the Goddess of Information, entered the hall with a graceful stride. The rumors she had gathered from her network of spies had hinted at the impossible, yet here it was confirmed—Andohr had indeed escaped his long confinement.
“Seraphine,” Andohr greeted, his voice tinged with amusement.
“Andohr, you’re here… How did you…?” Seraphine’s voice faltered, her usually unflappable demeanor shaken. Even she, the omniscient goddess, couldn’t fathom how Andohr had managed his escape.
“I grew tired of waiting for the pantheon to care about my fate,” Andohr replied with a scornful laugh. “So I took matters into my own hands and won, as I always do.”
Silence fell over the hall for a moment as Seraphine processed his words, then gracefully took her seat on a throne adorned with carvings of hooded figures—a symbol of her vast network of spies.
“Are you going to tell me how you managed your escape, or will you send me to Snowheim like you did Lathander?” Seraphine asked, crossing her arms.
“Curious as ever. Very well, I’ll indulge you because, unlike the others, you actually gave a damn,” Andohr remarked, a rare smile playing on his lips.
“I recently discovered that the essence of Noah, the God of Light, was a key force maintaining the bindings of my prison. Even before his birth, his destined essence contributed to my confinement. So, when the God of Darkness killed his own brother, without realizing that his previous incarnation had made Noah a pivotal seal bearer and my jailer, the bindings weakened just enough for me to break free,” Andohr explained, carefully omitting certain details. Seraphine noted the gaps in his story but chose not to press further, knowing it would be futile.
“So where is his mother?” Seraphine asked, only to see Andohr chuckle.
“Where else? She is in Oblivion,” Andohr stated nonchalantly, causing a chill to run down Seraphine’s spine. Oblivion, a name that hadn’t been uttered in nearly two thousand years, was feared even by gods. It was a prison crafted by Andohr, existing outside the realms of physical space and time. Those who threatened Andohr or the pantheon were banished there, where they would endure an eternity in stasis. Time did not pass in Oblivion, making even a second feel endless. The rumors said that beings confined there would lose their minds within days from their perspective, unable to perceive the passage of time.
“Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive, Andohr?” Seraphine questioned, her voice tinged with pity for Harriet.
Andohr’s response was a cold laugh, devoid of any warmth or sympathy. “What was excessive was what he did to me. He bruised my ego, destroyed my legacy by imprisoning the God of Time and Space. It was his sick humor to confine me thus. I am merely returning the favor. He took my reputation and my legacy; now, I will take everything from him,” Andohr declared, his eyes blazing with a vengeful fire that admitted no possibility of mercy.
Seraphine sensed the discomfort in her own tone, while Salesi seemed intrigued, her curiosity about Oblivion piqued. Before she could inquire further, another figure entered the hall. He was a towering presence, clad in gold and silver armor, with a halberd slung across his back—Valorian, the God of Valor. His very appearance embodied the essence of warfare and honor.
“Valorian,” Seraphine greeted him with a nod of respect as he made his way to his throne, adorned with symbols of a sword and shield.
Valorian approached with a composed demeanor, his presence filling the hall with a sense of authority and calm. “Welcome back, Andohr,” he said, his voice even and betraying no hint of the tension that underpinned the room.
Andohr, taken aback by the casual greeting as if no significant time had passed or wrongs had been committed. “Is that all you have to say after not seeing me for five thousand years?” he questioned, his tone laced with a mix of irritation and disbelief.
“I have always known you were cunning enough to escape that castle without the pantheon’s aid. It was only a matter of time,” he stated confidently. Valorian’s smile was slight but unmistakable.
Hearing this, Andohr’s irritation shifted to a smirk, his pride swelling at the acknowledgment of his capabilities. The laughter that followed was full of dark amusement, echoing through the hall as a stark reminder of his regained freedom and power. “Indeed, Valorian, it was only a matter of time,” As the echoes of Andohr’s laughter faded, Seshat entered the hall with her characteristic grace. Her presence was like a soothing balm in the charged atmosphere. She greeted Andohr with a genuine smile, one that seemed to acknowledge the complexities of fate and destiny without judgment.
Seshat’s demeanor was serene as she moved to her designated throne, which was adorned with intricate carvings of books and scrolls, symbols of her dominion over wisdom. As she seated herself, Andohr couldn’t help but chuckle. “You haven’t changed a bit, Seshat.”
“Nor have you, Andohr,” The Goddess of Wisdom returned the sentiment with a soft, knowing smile.
Then, turning her gaze towards Salesi, Seshat offered a smile that seemed to pierce through to the core, making Salesi feel as though her very soul was being read. The intensity of the moment was palpable, and just as Salesi was about to react, the hall’s atmosphere shifted with the arrival of another god.
This new arrival was impossible to ignore. A commanding presence filled the space as a god with bulging muscles and a long, red mane reminiscent of a lion’s strode in. His gray armor, which left his muscular arms exposed, bore the carving of a lion’s head on the chest plate, signifying his fierce nature and power.
“Rudra,” Seraphine acknowledged the god of war with a respectful nod. Rudra’s entrance was marked by a hearty chuckle of amusement as his eyes landed on Andohr. He strolled to his throne which was shaped like a majestic seat a lion’s head and casually propped his feet atop the round table, leaning back with an air of nonchalance.
“So, you escaped your little castle, huh?” Rudra’s voice boomed across the hall, filled with both amusement and a hint of respect. “Seems like you finally pulled one over the God of Darkness,” he added, his tone suggesting a mix of jest and genuine intrigue at Andohr’s accomplishment.
Andohr maintained his composure in the presence of Rudra, keenly aware of the God of War’s immense power. Rudra, a god capable of matching Andohr in combat, commanded a level of respect that Andohr could not afford to dismiss lightly. Unlike with Lathander, where Andohr felt free to display his irritation, he understood that provoking Rudra could lead to dire consequences.
Rudra, for his part, seemed indifferent to Salesi’s presence. His focus was solely on the dynamics of power within the pantheon. To him, Salesi, a mortal elevated to divine proximity, did not merit his attention or regard. His eyes were reserved for the figures of true power and consequence in the room.
The atmosphere shifted again as another significant figure entered the hall. Zorian, the God of the Sun, made his presence known with a powerful aura. His appearance was striking, with a long, flowing white beard and a muscular physique that radiated strength and vitality.
Zorian’s entrance brought a hush over the room, his bright aura casting a warm glow that contrasted sharply with the cooler tones of the hall.
As he approached his throne, Zorian threw a cold glance at Andohr, his gaze sharp and discerning, reflective of his ancient wisdom.
With a wave of his hand, Zorian closed the hall’s doors, signaling the commencement of the meeting.
“Andohr, your schemes led to the God of Darkness killing his own brother, and the entire realm is paying its price,” Zorian stated, his voice deep and stern.
“You mean the mortal realm? Because, let’s not forget, I am the God of Time and Space. I understand how realms work. The God of Light’s essence was in the mortal realm; he hadn’t fully ascended to our realm, hadn’t fully become a god. His death won’t impact the realm of gods like Rainar’s death impacted this realm,” Andohr retorted with a snide chuckle.
“The good old Andohr, never giving a damn about the mortals. Some things never change,” Rudra chuckled, amused by Andohr’s unchanged nature.
“And you lecture me about mortals, Rudra? That’s fucking rich,” Andohr scoffed.
“When was the last time you gave a damn about anything other than your little paradise and yourself?” Andohr challenged, only to see Rudra burst into boisterous laughter.
“That is true. As the god of war, when they start to pray to me, they’ve already fucked up,” Rudra said, his laughter echoing around the hall. Although delivered with humor and nonchalance, Seshat recognized the profound truth in his words. Rudra, as the God of War, understood better than anyone that in war, no one truly wins.
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