"Muria, what are you doing?"
A voice, brimming with anger and exasperation, echoed behind Muria. It was accompanied by an intense, searing aura similar to Mikaela's but even stronger.
"How dare you lay a hand on my granddaughter!" With those furious words, a formidable attack surged toward Muria, carrying with it a palpable sense of danger.
"Arudiba, stop this nonsense! Are your eyes blind? Clearly, it was your granddaughter who attacked my grandson first! Didn't you see that my grandson only defended himself and didn't fight back?"
The fiery attack from the Seraphic God, Arudiba, was abruptly halted, crushed within a massive golden dragon claw that emerged from the void. Moments later, a majestic golden dragon head crowned with eight horns appeared, followed by the emergence of an awe-inspiring dragon king. Radiating dazzling golden light, the dragon's presence was as resplendent as the sun itself.
"Dimos, look at what your grandson has done! He dares to fight my granddaughter. Is this acceptable behavior?" Despite Dimos's intervention, the infuriated Arudiba remained undeterred, glaring at the dragon king and demanding an explanation.
"Enough. It's time to stop. The two of you are married—what's the point of fighting like this? You're only providing a spectacle for others to mock." Dimos's burning dragon eyes scanned the surrounding void, and with a surge of draconic power, he concealed the entire scene, cutting off the prying eyes of distant onlookers.
Hmph!Tsk!Sigh!
A chorus of faint, disgruntled noises reverberated in the void. Certain entities, who had been enjoying the drama, were clearly displeased to have their entertainment interrupted.
"Why the grumbles? If you want to watch, come out in the open. My grandson and granddaughter's dispute isn't for just anyone's eyes. Let's see how many lives you think you have to risk watching this," Dimos sneered, his words a direct challenge to the unseen onlookers.
The void around them fell silent. No one dared to respond.
"Alright, enough already. Our elders are here. There's no point in continuing this," Muria said, seizing the opportunity to bring the fight to a close now that their seniors had arrived. His tone carried a clear sense of relief—he finally had a valid excuse to end this confrontation.
"No. Not unless you agree to my conditions." Mikaela's voice remained firm, and the blade in her hand still radiated intense energy.
"Whatever you want, we can stop and discuss it calmly. Seriously, if this fight continues, your grandfather is going to attack me. Then my grandfather will have to intervene. Do you really want our elders to end up fighting because of us?"
Faced with this reasoning, Mikaela had no choice but to relent. She retracted her blazing sword, signaling the end of the battle.
Muria, who had been on the defensive the entire time, relaxed as the fight concluded. He had no intention of attacking his wife, and now the confrontation was finally over.
As the dust settled, Dimos and Arudiba approached, their scrutinizing gazes fixed on the younger pair.
"What happened between you two? Why did you start fighting?" Dimos asked neutrally, seeking an explanation.
"Muria, did you do something to wrong my granddaughter?" Arudiba's question, on the other hand, was laden with bias. Whenever a dispute arose, he instinctively sided with his granddaughter, immediately attributing fault to Muria.
"No." Muria's lips twitched slightly at Arudiba's words, finding them both amusing and exasperating.
"What nonsense! Do you take my grandson for that kind of person? He would never do anything to betray his wife!" Dimos, however, was not one to hold back. Unwilling to let his grandson be slandered, he immediately countered Arudiba's accusation.
"Mikaela, tell me—did Muria do anything to wrong you?" Arudiba asked his granddaughter in a gentle tone, ignoring Dimos's rebuttal.
"No, he didn't," Mikaela replied, shaking her head to clear Muria's name. "Our fight had nothing to do with that."
"You see? What did I tell you? My grandson would never do such a thing," Dimos declared, his confidence bolstered by Mikaela's response.
"My apologies, Muria. It seems I misunderstood you." Arudiba bowed slightly toward Muria, acknowledging his mistake with a formal apology.
However, his gaze quickly shifted back to Dimos, and his tone grew pointed. "I admit my bias may have clouded my judgment, but can you blame me? The reputation of your dragon kin precedes you."
"What do you mean by that, Arudiba? Care to explain yourself?" Dimos's calm demeanor immediately cracked, and his tone grew sharp.
"Everyone knows what dragons are famous for. Even goblins and kobolds would attest to it," Arudiba said, his voice devoid of malice but laden with implication. "And as a Dragon King, surely you're more aware of it than I am."
"Are you picking a fight?" Dimos's voice rose, his draconic pride clearly provoked. While the dragons were notorious for certain… proclivities, not all dragons embodied those stereotypes. Dimos, for one, prided himself on his self-discipline and honor.
"If you want a fight, then bring it on!" Arudiba's reply came as a challenge.
Ahem! Just as the tension between the two elders reached its peak, Muria interjected with a deliberate cough, drawing their attention back to him.
"Mikaela wants to accompany me to battle a heretic god," Muria said, condensing the complex situation into a single explosive sentence. Both elders immediately shifted their focus.
"You're going to fight a heretic god?" Dimos questioned, his fiery gaze fixed on Muria.
"And Mikaela wants to join you in fighting a heretic god?" Arudiba's voice brimmed with concern, his tone protective.
Hearing the same statement, each elder reacted in a way that aligned with their closest descendant. Dimos focused on Muria, while Arudiba centered his attention on Mikaela.
"Why are you even considering battling a heretic god? Do you think those void-dwelling creatures, who destroy worlds to feed, are easy to deal with?" Dimos asked, his brows furrowing deeply. Heretic gods were epic beings that sustained themselves by devouring worlds, making them some of the most dangerous entities in the Void.
"I need a fight to refine and fuse the epic power I've obtained," Muria explained, pointing to his chest. He had devoured the Seven Calamities Demon God's power, but it still remained an external force he couldn't fully integrate into his own.
"Hmm?" It was only now that both elders closely scrutinized Muria. They quickly sensed the foreign epic power residing within him, distinct from his own.
"How did you manage this? Did you already defeat a heretic god?" Dimos's curiosity surged as he probed the anomaly within his grandson.
"No, I was just lucky." Muria modestly recounted his experiences during his third reincarnation.
"I see. You were fortunate indeed. But the price you paid was steep," Dimos remarked, his tone both impressed and critical.
"It couldn't be helped," Muria replied with a faint smile. Regardless of the cost, he knew he had come out ahead in the end.
"Mikaela, Muria is fighting a heretic god to refine the power he's absorbed. Why are you insisting on tagging along?" Arudiba asked his granddaughter, his tone a mix of exasperation and concern.
"I want to fight a heretic god," Mikaela said simply. Her reasoning was straightforward—she sought to test herself against one of the Void's most destructive forces.
"Absolutely not. It's far too soon for you. There will be plenty of opportunities in the future," Arudiba said firmly, immediately vetoing the idea.
"Mikaela, even if I wanted to take you along, I couldn't. This fight isn't something I'm arranging—it's being handled by the clan," Muria added, further discouraging her.
"…" Mikaela fell silent, her brows furrowing in frustration.
"Well done." Muria heard a voice filled with approval—it was Arudiba, now clearly aligned with Muria on this matter.
"If I appeal to your grandfather, the Primordial Titan Lord, what are the chances he'll agree?" Mikaela asked Muria directly.
"I have no idea," Muria replied, shrugging.
"You want to fight a heretic god? No problem—you can join," said a voice, cutting into their conversation. The moment it was heard, Arudiba's budding relief turned into stunned outrage. His face froze mid-expression.
"Arkemond!" Arudiba growled through gritted teeth, glaring at the figure who had torn through the void to join them. His expression was one of unbridled fury.
"What is it?" Arkemond asked coolly, his tone calm as he faced the Seraphic God with six pairs of holy wings.
"Why are you endangering my granddaughter?"
"Endangering? Hardly. I'm merely granting the wish of a warrior eager for battle."
"She's just ascended!" Arudiba roared, his voice filled with anger.
"And that means she's qualified to face a heretic god," Arkemond replied matter-of-factly. His tone was so composed it almost seemed calculated, and the faint stirring of his aura suggested he was already preparing for a potential fight.
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