This newfound system of an afterlife, born from the collective will and hardwork of the demigods of life, was a raw, new concept, a path to the heavens that had never existed before.
It was a rudementry way, but both of them were working hard on perfecting this way.
While Uranus and Gaia were forging a path for the souls of the righteous, Umbra, the demigod of shadows, followed her own route.
She, too, mastered a transformation spell, her transformation magic worked like Loki���s shapeshifter talent, as she could transform into any lifeform.
But these transformation were only able to give her the shape of that lifeform, not the colour.
Thus, even after transformation, she was still black as a shadow.
She blessed certain races with the ability to become one with the shadows and also the transformation spell, giving rise to a new, mysterious shadow race.
They were silent hunters, unseen guardians who moved through the world like whispers in the dark.
However, all of these beings from the demigods were born from blessings.
Their powers were an extension of a spell, not an innate part of their being.
But this problem was soon solved by a lifeform.
It began with a single female dragon-born, a creature already blessed by Nova���s power. She sought to bear a natural-born dragon, a being that would embody the true, untainted power of the dragons.
For months, she held her full dragon form, a state that was physically and mentally taxing beyond measure.
To sustain the transformation, she consumed countless mana stones, each one a precious crystal of concentrated energy.
Nova, seeing her unwavering resolve, provided a constant supply of energy to her, a silent form of support in this unprecedented endeavor.
When the long, arduous pregnancy was finally complete, the female dragon-born laid a single egg.
The months that followed were filled with bated breath and quiet anticipation.
The world watched through the constant live stream of the system, as the egg finally cracked and from it emerged the first trueborn dragon���a creature of pure, innate power, its scales already shimmering dark glint.
This video spreaded like wildfire, with the title of ���a living testament to the power of the demigods and the resilience of their creations���
This single success inspired a new wave of creation.
Soon, natural-born Angels, Valkyries, and Shadow beings began to appear across Veridia, each one a living miracle that solidified their races��� place in the world.
And with this immense power came a necessary balance.
The truly powerful beings, like the true dragons, had an extremely low reproduction rate, a biological limitation that kept their numbers low and their power sacred.
They would remain a mythical, revered presence, not an overwhelming force.
The fifty years that followed saw the complete transformation of Veridia.
The very concept of life and death changed. With angels and Valkyries to guide them, lifeforms no longer feared oblivion; their existence now had a purpose, even in death.
This shift in belief created a sense of harmony and structure that had never before existed.
The demigods��� newfound mastery of blessings had a profound ripple effect throughout the world.
Chapter 77: Ch 77 : Greed
The demonic capital wasn���t a city built; it was a scar on the very face of existence, a place where reality itself had curdled and turned malevolent.
The air was a suffocating, hot blanket, thick with the scent of burnt flesh and the cloying sweetness of rot.
Structures, impossibly tall and jagged, clawed at a sky the color of a deep red.
They were not made of stone but of solidified malice, their surfaces slick with a sheen of oily black and their edges sharp enough to tear a soul.
Every street hummed with the collective, crushing weight of a million powerful auras,
It was a city of predators, where every corner held a silent promise of violence and the only currency was power.
Yet, amidst this landscape of pure terror, a single shop stood as a grotesque monument to a different kind of horror.
This was the -Fresh Meat Corner,- a shop that catered to the specific appetites of the demigod demons.
Here, one could find the meat of any race imaginable: elves, humans, titans, giants, and every other life form the multiverse had to offer.
For a race whose tastes were as diverse as they were depraved, a source of fresh meat that was never empty was nothing short of a wish come true.
It was a place where a demigod could satisfy a craving for a specific species, a place that felt tailor-made for their every need.
A small, silver bell above the shop���s entrance chimed, a shockingly clear and melodious sound that felt completely out of place in this cacophonous city.
The shopkeeper, a small lizard-faced demon with a perpetual nervous twitch, looked up from wiping down his counter.
A hulking shadow filled the doorway.
-Welcome, Mr. Geryon,- the shopkeeper said, a polite and warm tone carefully masking a deep, bone-weary exhaustion.
Geryon was a demon from the bull race, a brute with skin the color of scorched earth and a thick, silver ring piercing his broad nose.
His eyes were like twin coals, and a contemptuous sneer was a permanent fixture on his face.
-Quit with the yapping,- he grunted, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the shop.
-Bring some of your best wine and dragon meat.-
-Yes, Mr. Geryon,- the shopkeeper said with a long, drawn-out sigh.
He disappeared into the back of the shop, which was more of a cavernous butchery filled with strange hooks, bubbling vats, and the lingering scent of blood.
Seconds later, a stack of plates and a few bottles of wine floated out of the shadows.
The shopkeeper, using his immense mental force, gently guided them to Geryon���s table.
Each dish settled with a soft clatter, a testament to the proprietor���s careful control.
Geryon wasted no time. He tore into the food with a ferocity that was almost a blur, a chaotic symphony of chewing and gulping.
He devoured different cuts of dragon meat and chugged bottles of wine as if they were water.
The shopkeeper watched, a silent, unblinking observer to this grotesque feast.
When the last plate was scraped clean and the last drop of wine was consumed, Geryon wiped his mouth with the back of a calloused hand and looked up, his coal-like eyes settling on the shopkeeper.
-Write it on my tab,- he demanded, his voice a gravelly command.
-Of course, Mr. Geryon,- the shopkeeper said, a forced smile plastered on his face as he saw the customer off.
He waited until the massive form of the bull-demon was gone, then let out a deep sigh of frustration that he hadn���t allowed to escape before.
-What tab?- he muttered under his breath, his small, beady eyes narrowing. -You haven���t paid me in six months.-
He began the tedious work of cleaning the dishes, a quiet, repetitive task.
He was lost in his own thoughts, a whirlwind of calculations and quiet satisfaction.
-Why is this old demon not looking elsewhere- Mammon thought, but his body showed no such signs.
Since the last half an hour, he has been feeling a gaze of some powerful demon demigod.
It was the gaze of the demon king, a powerful and suffocating aura that had been focused on him for what felt like an eternity. He waited, his muscles tense, until the pressure finally subsided.
-Oh, he finally left me alone,- the shopkeeper said, a genuine sense of relief in his voice as he shed the mask of the nervous proprietor.
For this unassuming lizard-faced demon was none other than Mammon, the sin of Greed.
He had been living under different guises for the past 75 years, playing a long, dangerous game of cat and mouse in the heart of the demonic realm.