Chapter 248: Three Gifts Of A Dead God

Cyrus stared at Elias’s outstretched hand without answering.

The Royal Command Seal still pressed against his spirit core, keeping him on his knees.

His attention drifted past Elias to Kane’s motionless body lying on the black sand.

The synthetic ravens stood around him, motionless sentinels with their glyph-eyes glowing.

The obsidian egg case rested beside Kane. Its protective runes pulsed irregularly, as though the hatchling could sense his fathers’ distress.

Cyrus felt the faintest tug from his bond with Kane. Not a heartbeat or conscious response, but a lingering spiritual thread. He clung to it.

Elias waited patiently, knowing that silence was more effective than threats.

Cyrus asked one question.

"Can you actually bring him back?"

Cyrus demanded proof rather than accepting Elias’s word.

"You’ve lied to me for centuries. Give me one reason to believe you now."

Elias glanced at Kane.

"If f I wanted him gone permanently, Cyrus, I wouldn’t have bothered bringing his body with us."

He gestured toward the ravens standing guard.

"I’d have let him burn with the villa. Let the volcanic heat consume what was left."

His expression remained neutral.

"Instead, I went through considerable effort to preserve him intact."

Elias’s hand remained extended.

"So. Do we have a bargain, or do I leave you here to watch Kane’s spirit thread fade while you’re still paralyzed?"

Cyrus’s claws dug into black sand.

Every instinct screamed not to trust Elias.

But Kane’s pale face haunted his peripheral vision.

The egg case pulsed again—desperate, afraid.

Elias withdrew his hand with a slight smirk, amused by Cyrus’s stubbornness.

He gestured toward the raven carrying the Roaring Shard.

The construct opened its chest plating with a mechanical hiss, revealing the stolen Shard suspended inside a containment field.

Crimson light pulsed against white-gold barriers.

"The Beating Heart was never meant to be wielded in its raw form," Elias said. "It was an unstable concentration of divine essence."

He circled Cyrus slowly, boots crunching on black sand.

"The Dragon King attempted to absorb it directly. The corruption you witnessed was the result—madness that contributed to the Spirit Realm’s destruction."

Cyrus’s claws dug deeper into the sand.

"When you and the nine-tailed fox shattered the Heart, you prevented immediate catastrophe but scattered its power throughout the realms."

Elias stopped beside Kane’s body.

"I’ve spent centuries recovering and studying its fragments. Searching for a way to reconstruct the Heart into a stable artifact."

He met Cyrus’s gaze.

"The Eternal God Crystal has three functions.

Restoration—the power over life. It repairs or rekindles damaged spirit cores, even after physical death, if a trace of the soul survives."

Cyrus’s head turned sharply toward Kane.

"Reconstruction—the power over realms. It restores or reshapes the boundaries between the human world and the ruined Spirit Realm."

Cyrus’s expression shifted. Surviving spirits scattered across the human world could return home.

"Authority—the power over existence itself."

Elias’s amber eyes gleamed.

"It grants its wielder the ability to influence the laws governing spiritual existence."

"You could rebuild the Spirit Realm," Cyrus said quietly.

"I could," Elias agreed.

"Restore the clans."

"Perhaps."

"Then why—"

"Because I have no intention of rebuilding a kingdom just to kneel before another king."

Elias turned his attention toward the volcanic peak rising behind them.

"The Spirit Realm collapsed because its foundation was rotten."

His voice carried across the black sand.

"I was there, Cyrus. I saw the Azure Dragons slaughter Phoenix Courts for control of the Sacred Heart. Watched the Jade Dragons betray the Wolf Packs they’d sworn to protect."

His jaw tightened.

"The weaker clans—cats, foxes, serpents—were caught in the crossfire of powerful spirits who claimed divine mandate."

He gestured toward the inactive ravens standing guard.

"The gods possessed unimaginable authority. They could have intervened, stopped the bloodshed before it consumed everything."

His amber eyes narrowed.

"Instead, they abandoned their creation. Let it burn."

Cyrus remained silent, claws still digging into volcanic sand.

"Your Black Dragon clan served as guardians of balance," Elias continued. "Loyal to the end."

He met Cyrus’s gaze.

"And what did that loyalty earn them? Extinction. Because they refused to adapt."

Elias crouched beside Kane’s body.

"The entire system was fundamentally flawed. Divine power dependent on bloodlines, inherited authority, ancient traditions."

He touched Kane’s cold wrist.

"My synthetic spirit experiments proved divinity could be engineered. Enhanced. Perfected."

He straightened.

"The Eternal God Crystal will allow me to complete that work."

"And become what?" Cyrus asked.

"The first artificial god."

Elias’s expression remained calm.

"Your kings inherited their thrones. Your gods inherited their worship. And what did they accomplish?"

He spread his arms.

"A dead realm. Scattered clans. Centuries of suffering."

"So you’ll replace them?" Cyrus asked.

"No, old friend."

Elias smiled.

"I’ll improve upon them. Absolute control creates peace,"

Elias stated.

"That’s the foundational principle behind my work."

"The Dragon King believed the same thing," Cyrus replied.

His voice remained low despite the Royal Command Seal still pressing against his core.

"He claimed divine power would stabilize the realm. Unify the clans under a single throne."

Cyrus met Elias’s amber eyes.

"How did that end for him?"

"Poorly," Elias acknowledged without hesitation. "Because he lacked understanding of what he was attempting to control."

He gestured toward the ravens standing guard around them.

"The Dragon King approached divinity like a weapon to be seized. Brute force applied to concentrated essence."

His expression remained analytical.

"I’ve spent centuries studying the precise mechanics of divine corruption. Mapping the pathways through which raw power destabilizes mortal vessels."

He tapped his temple.

"Knowledge is the difference between his failure and my success."

Cyrus stared at Elias.

The man before him wouldn’t abandon this path.

Elias turned the argument personal.

"Tell me something, Cyrus. Would you condemn the entire world just to save that one little fox?"

His tone carried genuine curiosity rather than mockery.

Cyrus looked at Kane.

Silver hair scattered across black sand. Pale fingers lying motionless beside the egg case.

He remembered fire.

A realm collapsing.

A familiar hand slipping from his grasp.

And centuries of silence afterward.

"I once sacrificed everything to save the world," Cyrus said.

His voice was quiet.

"It took him from me anyway."

He lifted his crimson gaze.

"So forgive me if I’m no longer interested in being its hero."

Elias didn’t laugh.

Didn’t mock.

Instead, his expression shifted into something almost affectionate.

"There you are," Elias murmured.

His smile softened.

"I was beginning to think I’d lost you forever."