God Of War Dad

The time was drawing near for Luna Porter’s delivery, but the million troops of the North Kingdom were bearing down on the capital of the Shirine Empire, putting both King Roscoe’s throne and the empire itself in grave peril. He could not afford to wait!

Abandon the imperial city and flee?

No way!

Before claiming the throne, King Roscoe would have fled at the first sign of such danger. But now, after sitting on that throne for a full half year, how could he relinquish what was his?

Besides, as he had just told Luna Porter, he was no fool. He knew she carried but one child, offering only a single chance to ascend into the Bright Realm.

Since he dared gamble, he must be prepared and confident of success!

Boom! King Roscoe left the imperial bedroom alone and entered the Hall of Throne, activating the mechanism leading down to the underground altar. With a muffled rumble, the smooth mirrored floor of the hall split down the middle, a huge two-meter crevice opening up!

The floor then slid apart to both sides, the crevice gaping over a meter wide before grinding to a halt. This long rectangular hole, about two meters long and over one meter across, was the entrance to the underground altar, with flights of stone steps spiraling down into the earth.

King Roscoe stood at the precipice, inhaling deeply. Then he strode forward, descending the stairs.

The underground altar below was brightly lit.

At the center loomed the massive blood pool, still bubbling with boiling blood, dark currents churning relentlessly within, throwing up countless blood bubbles that burst noisily on the surface. Crimson steam wafted up, permeating the entire underground altar with an overpowering bloody stench.

Any ordinary person would be choked to death by the fumes.

But when King Roscoe entered, his gaze upon the great blood pool betrayed unmistakable excitement, like a starving wolf spying long-awaited prey.

“Heavenly aroma!” he exclaimed, relishing a whiff of the bloody vapor. “Truly a delicacy of the mortal realm. Just standing here, I feel the fire of my blood ignite, eagerly anticipating tonight’s feast!”NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

Eager indeed! King Roscoe had long thirsted for the Bright Realm, and now, on the very cusp of ascension, how could he remain calm? By dawn, perhaps he, King Roscoe, would stand among exalted cultivators like King Ron and Sean.

Then, having reached the mythic Emperor Realm, he would reign as true Emperor of the Shirine Empire!

Able to attack and defend with impunity. Safe from all harm!

What had he to fear from the North Kingdom’s million troops?

Just then, a voice rang out: “All is in readiness, awaiting Your Majesty’s ascension tonight, to rocket into the Emperor Realm and claim your imperial throne, driving back the barbarian horde, securing peace for the Shirine Empire!”

On its heels came laughing confirmation: “Ha ha! Well said, well said! With ingenious tools like the blood pool and the Soul-Devouring Formation, plus the Northern Wolf’s bloodline and our full support, Your Majesty’s breakthrough is all but guaranteed!”

Accompanying these sudden voices, two figures strode toward King Roscoe and bowed before him.

One had long white hair and beard, even his brows snowy white, his aged face etched with countless wrinkles. He wore plain white robes, carrying himself with refined elegance despite the bloody miasma, giving him an otherworldly air.

The other was his opposite: cropped black hair and bronzed skin weathered by sun and wind. Massively built like a bull, his embroidered black robes bore the emblem of a blue whale, exuding a wild, indomitable spirit.

Seeing them, King Roscoe paused, then returned their bow despite his imperial station. “With my royal father’s tragic passing and the North bearing down, to have Lord Snow and Lord Fisher’s aid in this dire hour is my great fortune, and the empire’s.

“If we succeed tonight,” he continued, “you have my word, Lord Snow and Lord Fisher, I will uphold my end of the bargain and open the blood pool and Sean’s lineage to you, helping you cross that final threshold into the true Bright Realm!

“Then, together, we three Bright Realm masters will forge an alliance. With Hyacinth under Lord Snow and Plumeria ruled by Lord Fisher, we will counterattack and carve up the North Kingdom’s lands!”

His words rang with conviction. For the two men before King Roscoe were none other than Lord Snow, guardian of western Hyacinth, and Lord Fisher, lord of eastern Plumeria!

With war imminent, King Roscoe had urgently summoned them to the capital and struck a secret pact: tonight, they would help King Roscoe break through in exchange for his aid in breaching the Bright Realm using the blood pool and Sean’s lineage.

As Luna Porter said, King Roscoe’s hasty ascension left his foundations unstable. Even with Sean’s bloodline, his odds solo were slim. But with two near-Bright Realm cultivators assisting, his chances improved dramatically to near-certainty!

This was why King Roscoe flatly refused Luna Porter’s plea to abdicate and flee. With success assured, why flee?

The Soul-Devouring Formation was a royal secret entrusted only to heirs. Without King Roscoe, Lord Snow and Lord Fisher could not access the blood pool.

After all three broke through, their newfound might would easily turn back the North Kingdom’s army. Not only would the Shirine Empire be secured, they could conquer the North!

The price was Lord Snow and Lord Fisher, as Bright Realm masters in their own right, becoming King Roscoe’s equals. Hyacinth and Plumeria would split from the Shirine Empire.

“Excellent!” said Lord Snow and Lord Fisher, exchanging a glance. “We thank Your Majesty for this opportunity.”

Just then, footsteps sounded from the Hall of Throne above, followed by a woman’s voice:

“Your Majesty, we have excavated the little monster as you ordered!”