Chapter 886 – "The Sun Goddess Arrives" (18+)
The last pulse of the chokers had barely faded when the air above the dais shimmered, space itself rippling like heat over sunlit stone. A golden-red spark flared at the center, blooming outward into a circle of radiant light.
From that light stepped a woman whose presence seemed to shift the very air.
Her black hair flowed like silk down her back, catching hints of crimson when the temple's light touched it. Her black eyes were deep and steady, holding a warmth that seemed endless, yet an authority that was impossible to deny. Every movement was measured, graceful — the embodiment of dignity and quiet power.
Amaterasu.
The woman most fitting for the word mother.
Around the hall, disciples instinctively lowered their heads — not from command, but from the natural weight of her presence.
Her gaze swept the room once before settling on the throne. It lingered first on Alex, then shifted to Yuka, whose flushed body and radiant smile carried the afterglow of the rites. The smallest smile touched Amaterasu's lips.
"You've grown," she said to her daughter, her voice warm, the sound like sunlight breaking through morning mist.
Yuka stepped forward without hesitation, her cheerfulness bright even after what had just transpired. "Mother," she greeted, her tone rich with affection.
Amaterasu moved closer to the throne, the hem of her robe brushing the polished floor. She reached out, her fingers grazing Alex's shoulder lightly — a gesture both intimate and unhurried. She had never minded that he had multiple harem members; to her, they were equals in his world, bound together not by competition but by the shared gravity of his presence.
In her eyes, Alex's harem was not beneath him, nor above her — but of equal standing. And she stood in that equality without pride or insecurity, because her place beside him was as unshakable as the sun's rise.
Her gaze softened as it lingered on him. "It's been too long," she said quietly.
Alex rose from the throne without hesitation, stepping down from the dais to meet her. The golden shimmer of her arrival still clung faintly to her skin, like the last warmth of sunset lingering after the day had passed.
When he reached her, his arms went around her shoulders, drawing her in with a quiet certainty that left no space between them.
Amaterasu's own arms slipped around his back, her fingers pressing lightly into him as though she were memorizing the feel of him all over again. It had been a month since they had embraced like this — a month without the warmth that, for both of them, was as necessary as breath.
Neither spoke for a long moment. The temple was silent save for the faint rustle of her hair against his chest and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under her ear.
When she finally did speak, her voice was softer, for him alone. "I've missed this."
Alex's hand smoothed down her back once, steady and warm. "So have I."
From the dais, Yuka watched with a gentle smile. The disciples, though silent, could not help but feel the weight of the moment — the god and the sun goddess reunited, their embrace carrying a gravity that was both deeply personal and undeniably divine.
Amaterasu didn't let go immediately. Her cheek stayed pressed to his chest, her black eyes closing for a moment as if she could anchor herself in his warmth. The faint scent of her — something like morning air after rain, touched with a hidden heat — wrapped around him as easily as her arms did.
Alex's hand rose to the back of her head, fingers threading into the soft silk of her hair. "You've been gone too long," he said quietly.
Her lips curved faintly against him. "The world doesn't stop turning just because I want to stay at your side." She drew back slightly, just enough to look up at him, her gaze steady and warm. "But every time I'm away, I count the days until I can return."
His thumb brushed along her jawline in a slow, deliberate stroke. "A month is too long."
"Then keep me here this time," she replied simply, no hesitation in her tone. There was no plea in her words, only the certainty of someone who had already decided where she belonged.
He studied her for a moment longer, the edges of his mouth softening. "You know I will."
Her smile deepened, small but radiant — the kind of smile that carried both the quiet patience of a goddess and the unmistakable affection of a woman. "Then we have nothing to worry about."
The disciples could only watch in silence, yet even without a word spoken to them, they understood: this was no mere meeting. This was a reunion between two pillars of their world, a connection that burned with a steady, unshakable light.
Amaterasu's gaze softened further as she finally looked past Alex, her black eyes finding Yuka. The archangel still stood proudly before the throne, her black hair framing a face that shone with the afterglow of confidence and power.
"You've changed," Amaterasu said, her voice warm but weighted with meaning. "I can see it even from here."
Yuka's lips curved into a bright, unabashed smile. "I've mastered the Laws of Space," she said cheerfully, her tone carrying that lightness only she could keep even in moments like this. "I don't need a ring to come here anymore. I can be with Father whenever I want."
A glimmer of pride flickered in Amaterasu's eyes. She stepped closer to her daughter, reaching out to cup her cheek with a tenderness that contrasted the divine presence she carried.
"Then you've taken your place in the heavens," Amaterasu said softly. "Not because of your bloodline, not because of me — but because of what you've done with your own hands."
Yuka leaned lightly into her mother's touch, her smile never faltering. "And because I have both of you. That's all I ever need."
The moment between them drew the faintest ripple through the congregation. It was rare to see goddess, god, and archangel together in such closeness, and rarer still to feel the undercurrent of family binding it.
Amaterasu's hand lingered on her daughter's cheek before she drew it back, her gaze flicking briefly to Alex. "You've raised her well," she said.
Alex's lips curved faintly. "She's mine. That's enough."
Amaterasu's hand drifted from Yuka's cheek back to Alex's arm, her fingers curling lightly against the muscle as if reminding herself of his strength. She studied him for a quiet moment, her expression calm but with a subtle warmth in her eyes that only he would recognize.
Then, her lips curved just slightly. "Husband… why don't we try again?"
Alex's brow lifted faintly. "Try what again?"
Her smile deepened, her tone soft yet deliberate. "Maybe we can have another child."
A small stir rippled through the nearest disciples who overheard, though none dared to speak. The weight of her words settled between them like a spark in still air.
She didn't rush to explain, only holding his gaze — the same steady, sunlit gaze that had never wavered, whether in battle, in ceremony, or in their most private moments. "Yuka is proof of what we can create together," she said quietly. "Perhaps it's time we give her a brother… or a sister."
Yuka blinked, then broke into a bright laugh. "I wouldn't mind having a sibling. Especially if it means I get to see you two together again."
Amaterasu glanced at her daughter with a hint of amused indulgence before returning her eyes to Alex, her fingers tightening slightly on his arm. "What do you say?"
Amaterasu's black eyes didn't waver as she stood before Alex. "Then why wait?" she said, her voice carrying through the temple with the calm certainty of one who needed no permission to speak her will. "If this is to be our next child, let the temple witness it. Let them see the sun and their god together."
The hall stirred with a low ripple of breath as her hands moved to the sash at her waist. Without haste, she slipped it free, letting her robe part over her shoulders. The silk slid down her arms and pooled at her feet, revealing her flawless form — skin like warm ivory under the crystalline light, curves that spoke of both divine grace and human intimacy.
She stepped closer to Alex, her gaze never leaving his as she climbed the few steps to the dais. "This will be my rite," she murmured.
Alex rose from the throne, meeting her halfway. His hands settled at her waist, drawing her body flush against his, the crowd below holding their breath as if the very air depended on it.
Behind them, Yuka turned to her sister. "And while they're together," she said with a bright smile, "we can be too."
Ying Hua's answer was immediate. "Yes, Archangel."
Yuka's hands came up to cup the angel's face, her lips brushing over hers before guiding her down to the cushioned steps before the throne. With practiced ease, she lowered herself over Ying Hua, their bodies aligning, the archangel's magic already bringing forth the hard length she'd grown earlier.
The sight was staggering — god and sun goddess on the throne, archangel and angel entwined before them, all moving in a rhythm that was both intimate and ceremonial.
Alex's hands roamed over Amaterasu's hips as she straddled him, her legs folding against the throne's sides. With a slow, deliberate motion, she sank down onto him, her body taking him in completely. A faint gasp escaped her lips, her head tilting back just enough to let her black hair spill behind her like a midnight waterfall.
Before the dais, Yuka's hips began to roll, pushing into Ying Hua in smooth, steady thrusts that made the angel's breath quicken. Ying Hua's hands clung to her sister's back, her silver hair spilling over the steps in shimmering waves.
The chokers around the congregation's necks began to glow once more, their light pulsing in time with the rising rhythm of the dais — the god claiming the sun, the archangel claiming the angel, the temple bearing witness to the living hierarchy of their devotion.
The heat on the dais deepened with every movement. Amaterasu's hips rolled in slow, commanding circles atop Alex, her black eyes locked on his, each thrust sinking him deeper into her warmth. Her fingers dug lightly into his shoulders as if to anchor herself there, the golden sheen of her skin catching every shard of light from the temple's crystal fixtures.
Before the throne, Yuka's pace against Ying Hua began to quicken, her body pressing closer, her black hair brushing over the angel's cheek with every forward drive. The slick sound of their joining mingled with the heavier rhythm from the throne above them, weaving into a single pulse that filled the hall.
Yuka leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of Ying Hua's ear. "Call me onee-chan," she whispered, her voice warm but edged with command.
Ying Hua's breath hitched, her silver eyes flicking upward to meet the archangel's dark gaze. "Yes… onee-chan," she breathed, the words soft at first.
Yuka's hips thrust harder, making Ying Hua's head tilt back with a small, helpless moan. "Louder," she urged, her smile widening.
The angel obeyed without hesitation. "Onee-chan… ahhh… onee-chan…"
Each repetition carried more heat, the title binding the hierarchy between them as much as their bodies did. The disciples nearest the front shifted unconsciously, the glow of their chokers pulsing faster in response to the sound.
Above them, Alex's hands gripped Amaterasu's hips firmly, lifting and dropping her in a powerful rhythm that drew low, breathless sounds from her lips. She leaned forward to press her forehead to his, her voice low and fervent. "Give me our child here… before all who serve us."
The temple seemed to thrum under the combined rhythm of god and goddess, archangel and angel — a living rite in motion.
Amaterasu's body moved with the poise of a queen and the hunger of a woman who had been too long without him. Each downward roll of her hips was deliberate, drawing Alex deeper until the full length of him pressed against her core. Her breath came in slow, controlled exhales, but her black eyes burned with the same heat as the sun she commanded.
Alex's hands traveled from her hips up to her back, fingers tracing along the line of her spine, then down again to grip her firmly, guiding her into a sharper rhythm. The subtle slap of skin meeting skin began to echo faintly in the vaulted chamber, drawing the focus of every kneeling disciple.
Below the throne, Yuka kept her pace measured — not rushed, but deep, each thrust into Ying Hua designed to make her sister gasp and arch against her. She leaned closer, pressing their foreheads together, her black eyes fixed on the silver ones beneath her.
"Say it again," Yuka murmured, her breath warm over Ying Hua's lips.
"Onee-chan…" Ying Hua obeyed, her voice trembling with heat.
Yuka's hips pushed harder, her smile growing as she felt the angel tighten around her. "Good… don't stop calling me that until I tell you."
The silver-haired angel's voice grew louder, each repetition of onee-chan carrying more of the breathless devotion that only Yuka could draw out of her.
The chokers' glow intensified, the pulse now perfectly in sync with the movements on the dais and before it. The disciples were silent save for the sound of their own breathing, the air thick with a kind of reverent tension — as if the temple itself knew this was not yet the peak.
Alex's gaze swept down briefly, taking in Yuka's dominance over Ying Hua, before returning to Amaterasu's face. She met his eyes with a steady, unblinking look, her lips parting just enough to let a low, needy sound escape.
"Do you feel it?" she whispered, her hands bracing against his chest as her hips rolled faster. "The moment is close… make me carry your child."
The rhythm from both pairs began to tighten, every movement more urgent, every sound sharper. Yet neither broke, holding the line just before release, stretching the anticipation until it became almost unbearable — for themselves and for everyone watching.
Chapter 887 – "The Sun Rite" (18+)
The heat on the dais reached its breaking point.
Amaterasu's body tightened around Alex, her rhythm faltering for the first time as her breath caught. Below them, Yuka's thrusts into Ying Hua grew shorter, sharper, the archangel's black hair sticking to her temple from the sheen of sweat across her skin.
It happened almost in perfect unison.
Alex's grip on Amaterasu's hips pulled her down hard onto him, burying himself to the hilt as his release surged into her. At the same moment, Yuka drove deep into Ying Hua, her own seed spilling in thick waves.
Both goddess and angel gasped — Amaterasu's voice a deep, shuddering moan, Ying Hua's a higher, breathless cry — as their wombs were filled. The chokers flared in a brilliant light that momentarily bathed the hall in white, the pulse resonating through every kneeling disciple like a wave of shared sensation.
But even as the last tremor passed through her, Amaterasu's hand came to rest over her lower belly, her black eyes holding no surprise. "Not this time," she murmured quietly, almost to herself.
Alex understood. In all his time here, he had taken more than 2,500 women in this very temple — wives, harem members, sex slaves — yet not one had conceived from him. His strength was too immense, his energy too overwhelming for mortal or even divine wombs to easily take his seed. Fertilization was possible, but never simple.
He accepted it without disappointment. The act itself was not diminished, and when life did take root, it would be rare — extraordinary.
Yuka, still inside Ying Hua, leaned down to kiss her softly, the motion almost tender despite the heat between them. "Onee-chan… you're perfect," she whispered, her voice carrying both triumph and affection.
The temple fell into a hushed stillness again, the air heavy with the scent of their joined bodies and the afterglow of the rite.
On the dais, god and sun goddess rested in each other's arms. Below them, archangel and angel remained entwined. Around them, 2,500 disciples knelt in unbroken devotion, the image seared into their memory as one of the temple's most sacred moments.
The glow of the chokers dimmed to a soft afterlight, leaving the hall in a quieter, more intimate haze. Alex's gaze shifted from Amaterasu to Yuka, who was still holding Ying Hua close in the lingering warmth of their joining.
"You haven't spent much time with Yuka lately," he said casually, his voice carrying enough to reach her even over the soft rustle of movement in the hall.
Yuka looked up at him, her expression bright and utterly unbothered. "Then I'll spend time with her now!" she replied cheerfully, the words ringing with the same easy warmth she always carried.
Ying Hua's silver eyes softened as she took the archangel's hand. "Come with me, onee-chan," she said, her voice quiet but sure. Without hesitation, she led Yuka out from the dais, the two disappearing together toward the inner halls — a trail of lingering heat in their wake.
Alex watched them go for a moment before turning his attention back to Amaterasu. She was still close, her black eyes steady on his, a faint smile touching her lips.
He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers, and together they stepped down from the throne. The disciples instinctively shifted back, clearing a path without being told.
They didn't go far — just to a quiet adjoining chamber where the crystalline light from the Grand Hall softened into something gentler. There, without the weight of ceremony or the eyes of the congregation, they settled side by side.
The conversation flowed easily. She told him of the places she had been, of the small moments she had thought of him, of the little changes she had seen in Yuka. He shared the temple's recent rites, the changes among the disciples, the growth he had witnessed in their power and devotion.
They spoke not as god and goddess, not as ruler and consort, but as two who had long missed each other — the words weaving warmth between them as naturally as their hands stayed linked.
In that quiet, it was easy to forget the world outside the room.
In the quiet of Ying Hua's room, the muffled sounds of the temple faded to nothing. The heavy curtains shut out the crystalline light, leaving only the soft glow of a single lantern to warm the space.
They lay together on the bed, their bodies close, the air heavy with the faint scent of sweat and shared heat. Yuka's cock was already buried deep inside Ying Hua, the archangel's hips pressed snugly against the angel's own.
Neither moved with urgency. Instead, Yuka traced idle circles along Ying Hua's side with her fingertips, her black eyes fixed on her sister's silver ones. "It's nice like this," she murmured, her voice low but carrying that ever-present cheer.
Ying Hua's breath was steady, though the faint rise and fall of her chest betrayed the lingering warmth between them. "You're still inside me," she said softly, the words neither complaint nor question — just a quiet acknowledgment of the closeness.
Yuka smiled, leaning down to brush her lips over Ying Hua's forehead. "I like it this way. Feels… connected."
Ying Hua's hand slid up to rest over Yuka's heart. "You could stay like this forever, couldn't you?"
"I could," Yuka answered without hesitation, giving a slow, shallow thrust that made Ying Hua exhale softly. "And I might."
They talked in low tones — about Yuka's training with the Laws of Space, about the temple, about their father's reaction earlier in the hall. Each word was punctuated by the occasional small shift of Yuka's hips, a subtle reminder of their bond in this moment.
Ying Hua closed her eyes briefly, her voice just above a whisper. "Onee-chan… you make me feel warm."
Yuka's smile softened, her forehead resting against Ying Hua's. "Then I'm doing it right."
The steady pulse between them — physical and otherwise — carried on in the quiet, each slow movement an unhurried affirmation of their closeness.
Chapter 888 – "Two Sides of Devotion"
The bed was still warm from their closeness, Yuka lying comfortably against the pillows while Ying Hua rested beside her, silver hair spilling across the sheets. Their bodies were still joined, but their conversation had shifted into something sharper.
Ying Hua's voice was calm, almost casual, but every word carried the steel edge of conviction.
"Other men… they're disgusting creatures," she said, her silver eyes unblinking as she spoke. "Like filth. If I were to compare, even the excrement of the women here is better than they are. They don't deserve to exist in Father's world."
Her tone never wavered. It wasn't anger — it was simply truth as she saw it.
"If Father ordered me to kill them all, I would do it without hesitation. Every last one. It would be the easiest command to obey."
Yuka listened quietly, her black eyes soft and thoughtful, the faintest smile still on her lips despite the weight of her sister's words. "You really are a fanatic, onee-chan," she said gently, though there was no insult in her tone.
Ying Hua didn't deny it. "I am. My life belongs to him. My mind, my body, my heart — all for Father."
Yuka's fingers traced slow patterns over Ying Hua's arm, her voice warm but steady. "I love Father too. More than anything. But killing innocent men just because they exist… that's bad, Ying Hua."
The silver-haired angel tilted her head, her expression unreadable for a moment. "You would spare them?"
"Yes," Yuka said simply. "Unless they hurt Father or try to harm the people he loves. Then I'd do whatever it takes. But if they're harmless… then let them live their own lives."
There was no tension in her words, no challenge — just the gentle certainty of someone who didn't need to raise her voice to be firm.
Ying Hua studied her sister's face for a moment longer, then turned her gaze toward the ceiling, her expression smoothing into calm neutrality again. "You're kind," she said quietly. "Too kind."
Yuka only smiled a little wider. "And you're intense. That's why we balance each other."
The room fell quiet again, save for the soft sound of their breathing and the steady pulse of their bodies still joined under the sheets.
Yuka shifted onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow so she could look directly into Ying Hua's silver eyes. "Still," she said softly, "I want you to understand my way too. Sometimes… mercy can be stronger than a blade. If you can save someone instead of destroying them, that can be a kind of strength as well."
Her tone was gentle, the same warmth she always carried, but there was a steady conviction beneath it. She began to explain, sharing examples from her own experiences, moments where she had chosen kindness and seen it grow into loyalty or peace.
Ying Hua listened without interrupting, her expression calm, her gaze unwavering. When Yuka finally paused, the angel's voice was soft, but her words carried the weight of stone.
"Onee-chan… these things cannot change me. It is who I am. My devotion, my purpose — they are fixed. I was born to serve Father, to protect him by any means. That is the truth of me."
For a moment, Yuka held her gaze, searching it. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a small, sincere smile. "If that's your identity… then I have no right to change it."
Her hand came up to rest lightly against Ying Hua's cheek, the touch warm and sisterly. "It's who you are. And I'll accept that — because you're my sister, and I love you as you are."
Ying Hua's silver eyes softened slightly, the faintest warmth breaking through her usual composure. "…Then I will accept that you are different from me."
The two stayed like that for a moment — still connected, not just by their bodies but by something quieter, deeper. A bond not built on agreement, but on mutual recognition.
"It's a bond between sisters," Yuka said at last, her voice carrying a quiet certainty.
"Yes," Ying Hua replied simply.
Their foreheads lingered close, breaths mingling in the quiet. Neither spoke for several heartbeats, as if the silence itself was part of the exchange.
Then Yuka's smile softened further, and she leaned in just a little more. Ying Hua didn't pull away.
Their lips met in a slow, gentle kiss — not rushed, not heated, but filled with the unshakable certainty of their bond. It was the kind of kiss that spoke without words: I accept you. I am yours, and you are mine, no matter the differences between us.
When they parted, Yuka's black eyes still held that same brightness, and Ying Hua's silver gaze carried a rare trace of warmth.
Without saying anything more, they simply stayed close, the lantern light catching in their hair as the night wrapped around them, holding their bond in quiet perfection.
Chapter 889 – "Seeds of Change"
Alex and Amaterasu sat together in the quiet chamber, the faint hum of the temple's energy a distant backdrop to their reunion. They had already shared the small, personal details they'd missed during their month apart. Now, Alex leaned back slightly, his black eyes meeting hers.
"What's been happening on Earth?" he asked.
Amaterasu's lips curved faintly. "Nothing too dramatic. At least… nothing that could be called catastrophic. Most things are as they've always been." She paused, then tilted her head in thought. "Well… perhaps one small story worth telling."
Alex arched a brow. "Small?"
"In the human world's countries where the leaders cling to power by force," she began, "they've ruled by keeping their people uneducated, thinking ignorance would keep them obedient. But lately… it's not working as it used to."
She shifted closer, her tone carrying quiet amusement. "They've been eating Aten's rice for years now. At first, it just made them healthier, stronger. But now, their minds are sharper. They think more. They question things they were taught never to doubt."
Alex's gaze softened slightly, remembering the golden-hued grain he had created so long ago, and the way he had spread it across the Earth — not as Alex Edwood, but as a man in a yellow cloak with black bandages covering his face and hands. The world had called him Aten, never knowing the truth.
Amaterasu continued, "These governments are finding it harder to keep control. The people are asking questions, demanding answers… and they're not as easy to pacify anymore." Her lips curved into a knowing smile. "Your rice didn't just feed them. It woke them up."
Alex didn't reply immediately. His thoughts lingered on that quiet day years ago when the first batch had grown in just two weeks, no matter the soil or climate. It had been his answer to hunger, but also his gift — a slow, inevitable push toward a world where no one could be chained by ignorance alone.
Amaterasu's hand rested lightly on his. "You've changed more than just the cultivator's world, you know. You've changed theirs, too."
Amaterasu's expression shifted, a faint shadow crossing her otherwise serene features. "Of course… not everyone is happy about it. Some of the leaders who are losing control have started trying to twist the story. They've begun whispering — or shouting, in some places — that Aten is an evil god, and that Aten's rice is cursed."
Alex's brow rose slightly. "And?"
"They claim your grain changes people so it can control them, that it strips them of their will," she said, her tone holding just enough sarcasm to make her opinion clear. "They call you dangerous. They tell their people to stop eating it, to return to 'safe' food."
He almost smiled at the irony. "And the people believe them?"
Amaterasu shook her head, her black hair sliding across her shoulders. "Not at all. They've been eating your rice for years — they know what it does. They've felt themselves grow healthier, stronger, smarter. They know the only 'danger' is to those who want them ignorant."
Her voice took on a trace of satisfaction. "Every slander falls flat. Every attempt to scare them fails. If anything, their lies are only making more people question why these leaders fear Aten so much."
Alex leaned back slightly, a faint gleam in his eyes. "Then their control is already gone. They just don't realize it yet."
Amaterasu smiled knowingly. "Exactly. They're trying to fight the tide with their bare hands… but you started a current they can't stop."
He said nothing for a moment, just letting the truth of that settle between them. Aten's rice had been meant to feed and awaken — and now, without a single direct command from him, it was dismantling systems that had stood for generations.
Amaterasu's gaze lingered on him, her tone turning reflective. "You know as well as I do… it's far easier to rule a country when the people are uneducated. Keep their minds dulled, their eyes closed, and they'll follow without question."
She let the words hang for a moment before continuing. "But now? Every man, woman, and child who eats Aten's rice begins to think for themselves. They question orders. They analyze laws. They see through the lies their leaders have told them for generations."
Her lips curved in a faint, almost amused smile. "For those who rule through ignorance and fear, it's a nightmare. They can't put the genie back in the bottle — not when the minds they tried to keep chained have already broken free."
Alex's expression remained calm, but the satisfaction in his eyes was unmistakable. "Then the rice has done exactly what it was meant to do."
She gave a slow nod. "It has. And now the world is… different. Stronger. Harder to control. For some, that's a blessing. For others… it's the beginning of their end."
Amaterasu's voice took on a quieter, more serious tone. "Most of this… it's been happening in Africa. Some of those countries have been ruled for decades by force — military juntas, warlords, leaders who keep the people hungry and uneducated to stay in power."
She shifted slightly, her black eyes meeting Alex's. "At first, the people thought protests would be enough. They marched, they shouted, they demanded change… but against rifles and armored vehicles, protests meant nothing."
Her lips curved in a faint, knowing smile. "Then they started to understand. If they couldn't fight from the streets, they would fight from inside. And so… they joined the military."
Alex listened in silence as she went on.
"Men and women, young and old, began enlisting in large numbers. Aten's rice had made them stronger, sharper, harder to intimidate. They rose through the ranks with speed no one expected. Some became officers, others gained control over key units… and all the while, they kept their true loyalties hidden."
Her voice grew heavier. "Now, it's no longer a matter of if there will be change — it's a matter of when. The moment the balance tips, the revolution will begin. And when it does… the old rulers won't stand a chance."
Alex leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Aten's rice gave them the means. Their will to change gave them the rest."
Amaterasu nodded once, her tone certain. "Exactly. You didn't just feed them, Alex. You armed them with something far more dangerous than weapons — you armed them with the ability to think, to plan, to take control of their own future."
Amaterasu's tone softened, but the weight in her words remained. "The ones who are preparing for this revolution… they're not like the forces of the past. They're not drunk on dreams of power, ready to replace one tyrant with another."
Her gaze sharpened slightly. "They're careful. Patient. They study history, they learn from the mistakes of those who came before. And when the time comes, they will strike in a way that leaves no room for the old cycle to repeat."
Alex's expression remained unreadable, but there was a faint glint in his eyes.
"It's the rice," she continued. "It hasn't just made them strong. It's given them wisdom. Clear thinking. Mindfulness. The kind of vision that can see beyond the moment — that can resist the temptation of absolute power once victory is theirs."
She leaned back slightly, her voice lowering. "This won't be another revolution that burns bright and then collapses into corruption. When they move, they will build something meant to last."
For a moment, the room was quiet save for the faint hum of the temple beyond the walls.
Alex exhaled slowly, the corner of his mouth lifting in something close to a smile. "Then perhaps the seed I planted has grown into more than I ever expected."
Amaterasu's lips curved faintly. "It has. And it's still growing."
Chapter 890 – "The Root of Peace"
Amaterasu's black eyes held his as she leaned back slightly, her tone turning thoughtful. "You know, Alex… most wars, most conflicts, even the bitter misunderstandings between people — they all share the same roots."
He didn't interrupt, so she went on.
"First, there's lack of knowledge. People who don't understand a situation can be made to believe anything. Rumors, lies, and propaganda become their truth. Then, there's lack of mindfulness — when people don't stop to examine their own emotions or reactions, they can be provoked into anger without ever asking why."
Her voice softened, but the edge of truth in her words remained. "There's also the simple fact of not being aware of the consequences. They see the fight in front of them, not the ruin it will leave behind. And that blindness makes them easy prey for those who would incite them as political tools — leaders who stir hatred to gain power."
Alex listened in silence, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"And finally," she said quietly, "there's the lack of humanity. The moment people stop seeing others as human, it becomes easy to justify cruelty. That's when war turns into atrocity."
Amaterasu's hand rested lightly over his. "But Aten's rice… it cuts at the roots of all of this. Knowledge spreads faster when people can think clearly. Mindfulness grows when they have the mental clarity to reflect. Wisdom tempers their actions because they can see the consequences. And with stronger empathy — the humanity your rice awakens — they begin to value each other in ways that no law or ruler could force."
Her lips curved faintly. "It doesn't mean the world will never see conflict again. But it means those who would start wars will find fewer willing hands to fight them."
Alex's gaze softened. "Then perhaps the world I wanted is closer than I thought."
"It is," she said simply. "And it began with a golden grain."
Amaterasu's expression warmed, as if she'd just remembered something else worth telling. "There's another change you might like to hear about. Two years ago, some farmers began testing Aten's rice on their livestock. Just a small experiment at first — mixing it into feed for cattle, chickens, pigs, even fish."
She leaned forward slightly, her voice taking on that calm rhythm she used when recounting important details. "The results… were beyond anything they imagined."
She began with cattle. "Wagyu beef, already prized for its marbling, became even richer in flavor and tenderness. The fat melted at lower temperatures, releasing a taste so complex it's been called 'divine butter.' Farmers say even inexperienced cooks can prepare it perfectly now. Dairy cows produce milk that's sweeter, creamier, and stays fresh for days longer without spoiling — and with a faint golden hue from the rice's energy."
Her gaze shifted slightly, as if picturing it all. "Sheep fed Aten's rice grow thicker, softer wool — warmer than before, yet lighter on the body. Their meat loses any trace of gaminess, becoming mild and succulent. Goats produce milk with higher nutritional value, and cheese made from it is said to have a naturally balanced flavor that no aging process can replicate."
"Chickens," she continued, "grow stronger without becoming oversized or unhealthy. Their eggs are larger, with shells that almost glow faintly under the light, and yolks so rich in flavor they've become a delicacy in themselves. Ducks have followed the same trend — their meat leaner, but juicier, and their eggs treasured in markets."
She smiled faintly. "Even pigs have changed. Their meat is more flavorful, their fat cleaner and lighter. Bacon from Aten-fed pigs cooks without excess grease, crisping into perfect balance between crunch and melt."
Her voice lowered as she added, "And then there's aquaculture. Fish raised on Aten's rice feed grow faster and healthier, their flesh firm and vibrant, tasting as though it came from pristine wild waters. Salmon flesh deepens in color and oil richness, while tilapia and carp lose all muddy flavors, becoming delicacies even in regions that once saw them as cheap staples."
Alex listened without speaking, the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes.
Amaterasu finished with a note of pride. "Every animal fed Aten's rice not only grows healthier, but also passes that benefit to anyone who eats their meat, milk, or eggs. The energy remains in the food, nourishing humans just as the grain itself would."
She sat back slightly. "Livestock farming has been transformed. Small farmers are thriving. Food scarcity is gone. And in some places… the quality of life has risen so much that communities no longer measure wealth in gold or money, but in the taste of their meals."
Alex exhaled slowly, the corner of his mouth lifting. "So even the animals are part of the change now."
"They are," she replied softly. "And the world's table will never be the same."
The quiet in the chamber lingered for a moment after Amaterasu's last words, the golden light from the lanterns catching in her black hair. Then, with a soft exhale, she began to rise from Alex's lap.
Her bare skin shimmered faintly under the glow as she reached for her robes, drawing the silken fabric over her shoulders in smooth, practiced motions. Layer by layer, the Sun Goddess concealed her form once more, though the elegance in her movements left the impression that her beauty could never truly be hidden.
She turned toward Yuka, who had been watching quietly, her black eyes bright and attentive. "Daughter," Amaterasu said gently, "it's time to return to Takamagahara for now."
Yuka tilted her head. "Already?"
Amaterasu smiled faintly. "Yes. There are matters to tend to in the heavenly realm — and I'd like to speak more with you there about your mastery of the Laws of Space."
Yuka's lips curved into a cheerful grin. "Alright, Mother."
She rose from her place, moving with the same easy grace that had marked all her steps in the temple, and went to stand beside Amaterasu. The goddess rested a hand lightly on her daughter's shoulder, their matching black eyes meeting in unspoken understanding.
Alex watched them both, his gaze steady but not without warmth.
Amaterasu inclined her head to him. "We'll return soon."
Then, without further words, a soft radiance began to gather around her and Yuka — not the blazing light of the sun at its zenith, but a pure, gentle glow that shimmered like morning dew. The air stirred, carrying with it a faint, celestial warmth.
In the next breath, they were gone, leaving only the lingering trace of divine energy and the faintest echo of their presence in the hall.
The chamber fell into stillness after the light faded, the divine warmth of Amaterasu's presence lingering like the last touch of the sun before dusk.
Alex sat in that quiet for only a moment before the soft sound of bare footsteps echoed against the polished floor.
Ying Hua emerged from the side entrance, her grey-silver hair cascading freely down her back, her petite frame completely nude as though the concept of clothing had never applied to her. The crystalline light caught along the smooth line of her collarbones, the subtle curve of her hips, the gleam of the white choker at her throat.
Without a word, she crossed the space between them, her silver gaze fixed solely on him. When she reached the dais, she stepped up without hesitation and settled herself sideways across his lap, as if it were her rightful place — and in her mind, it was.
Her bare skin pressed against his, her small hands resting lightly on his chest while her head tilted, studying his face with quiet devotion. "Father," she murmured, her voice calm yet tinged with that familiar undercurrent of possessive pride, "they've gone."
Alex's hand came to rest at the small of her back, his fingers trailing idly along her spine. "They have."
A faint smile curved her lips as she shifted just enough to make herself more comfortable against him, her legs curling slightly over the arm of the throne. "Then I'm here now. Where I belong."
Her words carried no demand — only certainty.