"Is this considered complete?" Mikaela asked, scrutinizing Muria's current form, which bore an uncanny resemblance to Hades, the God of the Underworld.
"More or less. This is as far as I can go for now," Muria replied, adjusting to his new body.
Previously, Muria, as a wraith, had no fixed form and could shift into any shape at will. But now, he had materialized his being, giving himself a fixed body that would no longer undergo significant changes in appearance.
Compared to his previous wraith form, his new embodiment of death's power represented a remarkable leap in close-combat capability.
The wraith form had never been suitable for melee combat or one-on-one battles. However, this fundamental shortcoming had now been completely addressed.
Muria was confident that in his current form, he could fight his Enma form to a standstill, or at the very least, avoid being at a disadvantage.
"All show and no substance," Mikaela commented after carefully examining Muria's new form.
"I merely altered the nature of my power. After all, I haven't delved deeply into the laws of death. Being able to achieve this is already quite good," Muria explained, feeling somewhat embarrassed.
"What you've really changed is just the Titan body you shaped with source energy," Mikaela pointed out bluntly. Muria's current appearance was merely a superficial display with little practical utility.
"That's about right," Muria admitted. He knew that his true form now was essentially a skeletal body, not much different in appearance from a lich, though fundamentally distinct. His current Hades-like form was merely an aesthetic enhancement created by layering death energy over his skeletal frame.
"Now you wield the powers of four of the Seven Cataclysmic Demon Gods. You've already altered two of them. What are your thoughts on the remaining two?" Mikaela asked.
"I'll change them too," Muria replied, reverting to his human form. He didn't like the death form; he preferred the vitality and vibrancy of living beings.
"So, how do you plan to change them?"
"The remaining two powers are wind and earth. Wind doesn't need much explanation—it's my forte. Earth is somewhat like death; I've dabbled in it enough to make modifications."
"Hmm. So, you're planning to create a new wind-based giant form?"
"No, that's unnecessary. For the form, I'm thinking of referencing the World Guardian Beast Phoenix Hawk and the Earth Sovereign Turtle."
"You're going to create two vastly diminished versions of the World Guardian Beasts? Can you even manage that?" Mikaela asked, her tone dripping with skepticism. "You were able to create the Titan body because you based it on yourself. But as for the Phoenix Hawk and the Earth Sovereign Turtle, how much do you really know about them?"
"There's a Phoenix Hawk beneath my castle in Erathia. Do you really think I don't know anything about it?" Muria replied.
"Sure, you've lived close to it. But how many meaningful interactions have you had with it? And as for the Earth Sovereign Turtle, let's not even talk about that. I know there's one in the Titan homeland, but you don't have any connection to it, do you?"
"Ahem. My understanding might be limited, but that's not important. I just need to know what they look like. I'm only imitating their appearance for now. I'll figure out the specifics later."
"Suit yourself. It's your source energy. If you don't mind wasting it, then I have nothing to say."
"Who said I don't mind? I care deeply, but this is a necessary investment in the early stages," Muria admitted to his wife, sharing his feelings.
Source energy—the fundamental power of the world—was something no being would consider too abundant. Its utility was unparalleled, capable of manifesting nearly anything the user could imagine. If something couldn't be achieved, it was only because there wasn't enough source energy to do so.
"This is your choice," Mikaela said flatly, her expression impassive as she looked at Muria, who was grumbling despite gaining so much. She understood that if Muria's plans succeeded, the gains would be incomparable—thousands or even tens of thousands of times the initial investment.
"You can continue tinkering. I'm going to train," Mikaela said. Though she claimed not to envy Muria's current opportunities, deep down, she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.
As someone whose life form was near its natural peak from birth, Mikaela found the pursuits of mortal beings trivial and meaningless. Yet, as a living entity, she could not escape desires. However, her desires were incomprehensible to mortals, as they sought things beyond mortal reach.
It was similar to the mythological immortals in Muria's past life. In the eyes of mortals, immortals were beings who transcended worldly needs, living on dew and the essence of clouds, free from all desires. But did immortals truly have no desires? Unlikely. They simply sought things imperceptible to mortals—things mortals could never hope to touch.
One thing was certain, though: the pursuit of power was a universal drive among living beings. No one would refuse to become stronger, and Mikaela was no exception.
Unfortunately, Mikaela couldn't yet collect the powers of epic beings. She had not crossed the threshold separating Legends and Epics. Attempting to claim an Epic's power at this stage would result in catastrophic backlash—she simply wasn't qualified yet. Even a fallen Epic remained an Epic.
…
"What is going on? Why am I feeling this way? This is sheer blasphemy!"
Young Eric lay on his bed, tossing and turning as his thoughts spiraled deeper into panic. "No, this isn't blasphemy. This is outright suicidal! How could I have such thoughts about the Sovereign?"
"Ah!!!"
Eric buried his face in his dark-colored blanket and let out a low, muffled roar, venting the oppressive emotions consuming him.
The cause of his turmoil traced back to ten days prior. During a battle on the front lines, his extraordinary valor had earned him significant accolades. As a result, he was promoted and given a noble title.
For any soldier in the Seraphic Empire, such a reward was cause for three days and nights of celebration. Eric himself had been overjoyed. When he learned he would be summoned to the imperial capital to meet the Sovereign, his excitement only grew.
As a low-ranking officer, Eric had never had the chance to see the Empire's supreme ruler in person. The opportunity to do so, even as one among two hundred ninety-nine fellow soldiers, was an extraordinary stroke of luck.
The night before the audience, Eric had been too excited to sleep, his spirits soaring. But when he finally saw the Sovereign with his own eyes, his nightmare began.
Upon seeing the imposing ruler, he hadn't felt awe, excitement, or reverence. Instead, a single emotion consumed him: greed. A voracious desire to devour everything that Sovereign represented.
Though he forced himself to suppress this feeling, it was followed by overwhelming terror. He couldn't understand why he felt this way.
"I actually want to devour my Sovereign. Why? How is this even possible? Why am I feeling such a cursed desire?"
Eric's emotions unraveled as he lay on his bed, growling softly to himself. He couldn't reconcile this strange sensation with his self-image as a loyal subject of the Sovereign.
To the vast majority of the Seraphic Empire's younger generation, Muria was a role model, an idol. In the military, he had countless fanatical followers whose devotion bordered on the religious.
Eric considered himself one of those admirers. He regarded Muria as a figure worth dying for. Yet, he had experienced this extreme and irrational desire.
"It's not a matter of why. It's simply your body's instinct. It has nothing to do with you," a calm and gentle voice echoed in the small room. A tall, robust figure dressed in splendid attire stepped out of a black spatial rift, appearing in the room.
"Sovereign!" Eric's head shot up in shock, his face still streaked with tears. Realizing who had arrived, he scrambled off the bed and knelt on the ground.
"I…"
"There's no need to explain. I already know," Muria said, raising his hand to halt Eric's attempt to speak. His face bore a warm, reassuring smile. "You've been feeling an urge to devour me, haven't you?"
Eric lowered his head, remaining silent. His body trembled, and sweat poured from his skin, dripping onto the floor.
Muria didn't rush him, merely maintaining his smile as he looked on. Under such a gaze, Eric finally broke. His voice trembling, he admitted, "Yes."
"There's no need to panic, nor to feel guilty. When I look at you, I feel the same way," Muria said, his smile serene yet commanding, exuding the dignity of a ruler.
Hearing Muria's words, Eric began trembling even more violently. He had no idea how to respond.
"However, my desire to devour you isn't nearly as strong as yours. In fact, it's so faint that I can almost ignore it—because your power is so weak," Muria said softly, his feelings slightly complicated. One of his subordinates had become a vessel for a type of epic power he did not yet possess. Fortunately, he had anticipated this possibility.
"That's why you need to grow stronger as quickly as possible. I need your power," Muria stated, his gaze fixed firmly on the kneeling young officer, clearly expressing his expectation.
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