Chapter 185: Taming Gods

"There’s only a thin trace of its consciousness remaining," King Martin Martel said, holding up a heavy, rune-etched jar.

Inside the transparent container, a small cloud of dark smoke twisted silently, clawing repeatedly at the glass as though it still believed it could escape.

This was the lingering will of the ancient Akasha god they had just cornered.

A trace consciousness was still insanely dangerous to anyone who hadn’t stepped past the mortal boundary.

Especially to a Tier 5 summoner like Ethen.

Even stripped of its physical vessel and crushed down to a wisp, the smoke still carried divine authority. The qualitative gulf separating an ordinary mortal from a divine existence was simply too wide to treat casually.

Martin turned the jar over in his calloused hand, utterly unbothered by the writhing smoke within.

"There are still two Demi-god beasts in this hold," the old king noted, his gaze shifting toward the shadow creature pinned to the far bulkhead.

"Consider this a small bonus for showing me a good hunt. I’ll pin them down so you can finish the job."

Martin extended his free hand toward the center of the dark cabin.

Thick, pale-green vines erupted from the cracked floorboards with blinding speed.

They shot across the room like iron chains, moving with surgical precision as they wound around the shadow beast’s neck, torso, and limbs.

Golden divine runes flared to life along the bark, hissing as they seared into the beast’s dark flesh.

The shadow creature thrashed with wild, desperate fury, shrieking as the sacred wood bit into its shadowy hide.

Its struggles were completely useless against an Angel’s suppression.

The divine bindings locked down its energy core, pinning its squirming mass flat against the ancient timbers.

Ethen didn’t need an invitation to seize the kill.

He stepped into the pocket without a split second of hesitation.

His boots closed the distance, and the wool-wrapped Demi-god saber flashed in a low, vicious arc before driving straight through the beast’s chest.

The enchanted steel sank all the way to the hilt, burying its cruel curses deep into the creature’s core.

The shadow beast convulsed violently once, black ichor spraying across Ethen’s knuckles, before its body completely liquefied into gray mist.

A crisp chime chimed in his mind, followed by glowing system text:

[You have slain Demi-god Beast.]

[You have received an Echo.]

Ethen’s eyes widened slightly as the prompt cleared.

An echo!!

Before he could pull his weapon back, the lingering gray mist surged toward his right arm, condensing into solid matter.

A heavy, dark-metal bracelet snapped shut around his wrist, pulsing with cool shadow energy.

The metal held a deep, obsidian luster that greedily swallowed the faint ambient light filtering through the broken ceiling.

Ethen immediately opened the item’s diagnostic panel:

[Shadowbound Shroud (Demi-god)]

[Description: Allows the wearer to submerge their physical vessel into the shadow plane, moving through darkness undetected for extended tactical intervals. Special Trait: While submerged in the shadow plane, the user’s physical body is rendered entirely immune to physical and elemental harm. Only light magic can damage you.]

A slow, vicious smile spread across Ethen’s face.

This single drop made the entire brush with death worth the trouble.

Being able to slip into the shadow plane and bypass terrain was already an incredible scouting and infiltration tool.

Even better, using it as a combat evasion skill meant having a reliable panic button whenever high-tier enemies tried to overwhelm him with physical brute force.

Complete immunity to everything except high-tier light energy was a terrifying tactical shield.

Ethen let out a quiet, satisfied breath, already imagining the ways he could pair the artifact with his Judgment Style.

He turned toward the wall, raising his crossbow to put down the second Demi-god lurking inside the ancient oil painting.

Before his finger could touch the trigger, Adam quietly stepped in front of the weapon’s sights.

Ethen lowered the bow, raising an eyebrow at the half naked man.

Adam wasn’t drawing power to strike.

Instead, he walked straight up to the bizarre canvas, his golden eyes calm and curious.

He raised an open hand toward the painted surface and began to speak in a low, rhythmic cadence.

The dialect spilling from Adam’s lips was completely alien to Ethen’s ears.

It carried no recognizable roots from the common tongues of the Bastion or the ancient scriptures of the Demi-human kingdoms.

Yet whatever primeval words Adam was muttering, the grotesque mass of tentacles painted on the canvas understood every syllable.

The canvas rippled like water as the creature stirred.

The two strange entities engaged in a steady, bizarre dialogue that filled the quiet cabin.

Ethen stood with his weapon lowered, silently observing the exchange.

For several minutes, the eerie negotiation continued without a single hint of hostility.

Adam spoke with gentle, unyielding authority.

The painting hummed, its painted ink swirling in clear deference to the First Man.

Finally, Adam reached his bare right arm straight into the solid canvas.

Ethen’s jaw tightened as he watched Adam’s forearm sink past the frame as if dipping into a pond.

The fabric rippled, and a second later, Adam pulled his hand back into the room.

Clinging to his fingers was a small, translucent, squid-like creature covered in tiny bioluminescent spots.

Adam gently guided the odd beast onto his bare shoulder, where it coiled two soft tentacles around his collarbone without the slightest struggle.

"Its true name is Hurak... *k’vash-tza*," Adam said softly, turning back to Ethen.

The second half of the name didn’t sound like mortal speech; it twisted the air with a wet, reverberating click that Ethen couldn’t even replicate in his mind.

Yet the reality of the situation was crystal clear.

Adam hadn’t merely pacified the anomaly.

He had claimed its true primordial designation, binding the Demi-god horror as an auxiliary pet without spending a single drop of spiritual mana.

Ethen stared at the bizarre little squid resting comfortably against Adam’s fair skin.

He gave a slow, helpless nod.

"Fine by me," Ethen said, choosing not to question the absurdity.

He turned back toward the old king standing near the doorway.

"Thank you for the assist, Your Highness."

The words were a respectful, unspoken cue that the monarch’s intervention was no longer required.

Martin caught the hint and chuckled, shaking his head with an amused grin.

"Very well. Don’t go picking fights kid. I’ll see you at the Bastion’s next council assembly, Warden."

With that parting quip, the King of Bark pushed off the floorboards, his body blurring as he launched upward through the shattered ceiling.

He cut through the jagged breach in the hull, vanishing into the gray Nether Realm sky like a crimson streak.

"Sigh."

Ethen rubbed his temples with a dry, self-deprecating smile as Adam gently stroked the little squid’s bulbous head.

The First Man looked entirely too pleased with his new companion.

Out on the crater floor, the heavy stench of burned ozone and spilled beast ichor hung thick in the air.