"Father, are you done petting?" Mohg's low voice came, his horns almost smoothed down by Godfrey.
"Haha, alright! But Mohg, your hair is really hard, it's rough to the touch." Godfrey released Mohg, rubbing his hands as he spoke.
"Naturally, otherwise, how could I have broken through the sewer grate?" Mohg bared his fangs, revealing his jagged and terrifyingly sharp teeth.
"Mohg!" Morgott slammed his Cursed Sword onto the ground, letting out a cold snort.
"I know, I know, what are you so agitated about, big brother? For your sake, I still acknowledge Father and big brother."
Mohg patted Morgott's shoulder, his voice slow and hoarse, like a venomous snake in the darkness, as if ready to strike at any moment.
"Father and big brother, they couldn't do anything either," Morgott defended Godfrey and Godwyn.
Marika was the true ruler of the Golden Dynasty; her will, no one could defy.
Morgott looked at his younger brother. From a very young age, he knew Mohg was different from him.
Mohg loved pain and bleeding. Many times, he would secretly avoid Morgott, muttering to himself in a corner.
Whenever Morgott found Mohg, the young Mohg would always be slumped in a pool of blood—he liked to use broken stones or bones to carve wounds into himself.
When he asked why, Mohg would always just smile and shake his head, then obediently follow him back to their 'home' built in the sewers.
Later, after Morgott learned that Mohg had no intention of dying, he stopped bothering with his brother's peculiar hobby.
One might even say that in the foul and dirty sewers, it was a relief for Morgott that his brother had a relatively acceptable hobby like 'self-harm'.
Having a hobby meant having a reason to live, and not seeking death. As for self-harm? The darkness in the sewers was not merely the absence of light.
Morgott was already happy that his brother hadn't become even more twisted.
"I know, otherwise, I wouldn't call them Father and big brother," Mohg said with a smile, meeting his brother's gaze head-on, completely unafraid.
"Father, big brother. Speaking of which, our family really has to thank the King." Mohg spread his hands, as if feeling something, and said.
"Hmm, that fellow, terrifyingly strong. I'm completely convinced of him as King. And, Godwyn was also saved by him." Godfrey nodded.
"Tsk, roughly? But the thanks I'm talking about is more than just that." Mohg's smile grew brighter.
He used his claw to open a wound, and blood sprayed into the fireplace, igniting the firewood within.
"At least, the King didn't make you witness the scene of a child killing their mother." Crimson, blood-like flames rose, illuminating Mohg's twisted, sinister face.
"She, wasn't isolated?" Morgott stared blankly at the Burning blood-flames in the fireplace.
"Didn't the Dark Moon also not? Then why should she be isolated? As long as she and I don't destroy the world the King left behind, my connection with her still exists."
Mohg gazed at his bleeding arm, utterly mesmerized. In the sunless sewers, only the entity named "Mother of Truth" would respond to him.
The more wounds, the redder the blood, the more frequent the Mother's praise. The Mother of Truth, in Mohg's eyes, was like a mother.
In Yu Jin's view, whether it was Mohg or Morgott, their personalities were twisted beyond recognition.
Yu Jin even felt that Mohg was somewhat more normal; in such an extreme environment, taking an evil god as a mother wasn't entirely unacceptable.
But Morgott, Yu Jin truly didn't understand. Treated like that by the Golden Dynasty, yet still wanting to protect the Golden Tree, was he really just suffering from an invincible case of Stockholm Syndrome?
In comparison, Yu Jin could only express admiration and respect.
"Forget it, Morgott." Godfrey saw that Morgott still wanted to say something, immediately reached out to stop him, and shook his head.
Looking at the bloody Akasha above Mohg's wound, Godfrey could sense a cold, joyful, and indescribably vague feeling within it.
He had once felt this aura on his wife, Marika. It was the superior aura unique to a deity.
"Hoo—"
Godfrey took a horse stance, and white mist surged from his mouth.
"Boom—, Boom—, Boom—"
Long, resonant chimes echoed through Godwyn's mansion. There was no bell in Godwyn's house; that was the booming sound from Godfrey's heart.
"Sss~" Wisps of white mist rose from Godfrey's torso. His skin quickly became engorged and flushed red, the sound of blood surging could even be heard with the naked ear!
"Serosh, I am merely fulfilling a father's duty." Godfrey turned his head slightly and spoke to the lion regent that had appeared behind him.
"Roar..." Serosh bristled under Godfrey's gaze. After a low growl, he recoiled.
"Hah!" Godfrey roared, and a powerful wind, carrying terrifying might, surged. This aura spread out, cracking the earth and making all things retreat.
This was Godfrey's unique might, representing the pinnacle of humanity.
"The King's... power." Morgott gripped his Cursed Sword with both hands, plunging it firmly into the ground.
"My house!" Godwyn looked at the overturned roof, his heart a mix of pain and shock.
Just Godfrey's aura alone made Morgott and Godwyn retreat several steps.
"Fa... Father." Mohg said, somewhat terrified, as he watched Godfrey walk towards him.
At this moment, Mohg clearly understood that the strength of a demigod and a King were not on the same level at all.
However, he was not to be trifled with either. Mohg's eyes hardened; if Godfrey wanted to attack him, he would have to pay a price!
Then a warm, large hand once again patted his head. The hand wasn't as natural as before, seemingly afraid of hurting Mohg's head.
"Child, I never abandoned you. Do you know, the first to see me in this state was your mother."
Godfrey, steaming with heat, smiled at Mohg. Then he turned his head and spoke to the red Akasha not far away: "Makoto... Mother of Truth, right?"
"Thank you for taking care of Mohg. I'd like to meet you sometime. At least, I want to thank you in person..."
Before Godfrey could finish, the bloody Akasha rift gradually disappeared, eventually leaving no trace.
"Haha, it seems she doesn't think much of me." Godfrey scratched his head, and his terrifying aura also dissipated.
This made Morgott, Mohg, and Godwyn all breathe a sigh of relief. Godfrey at full power, simply standing there, gave off an endless pressure.
It was hard to imagine what those higher-level beings were like.
"Father..." Mohg felt the Mother of Truth's aura gradually receding, feeling somewhat like crying without tears.
"No need to be moved! This is what I owe you. Back then, I was useless, couldn't beat your mother in a fight. Now that she's gone, let's see who dares to bully you!"
Godfrey waved his hand, his booming voice leaving Mohg speechless.
"Tha... thank you, Father." Mohg nodded stiffly. He was now thinking about how to re-summon the Mother of Truth.
Just as he was at a loss, someone patted his shoulder.
Mohg turned his head and saw Godwyn sneaking up to him with a shifty expression.
To be honest, seeing Godwyn's furtive look, Mohg was really a bit unaccustomed.
This older brother of his was like dazzling gold, always bright, always righteous.
"You like Miquella?"
"Mm."
"Here, take this."
Godwyn handed over a notebook. The handwriting within was neat and elegant, pleasing to the eye.
Mohg flipped through it and saw that it contained Miquella's preferences, habits, and such.
"Although I, your older brother, don't quite understand your hobbies, consider this compensation for not being able to help you before, little brother."
"Miquella is quite vigilant, so I wrote this in a hurry, don't mind it."
Godwyn said, then showed his characteristic smile.
Unfettered gold, capable of illuminating even the Omen-born.
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