Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise! - Chapter 293

The Messengers of the Ancient Gods sat upon their five thrones, their forms radiating the kind of authority that made even gods bow in submission. Their seats were not mere constructs but embodiments of their dominion over eternity—living manifestations of power beyond comprehension. Each Messenger gazed down upon the assembly of gods, who sat silently, heads lowered, their reverence carved into every movement.

Servitude was etched into the posture of these gods, their existence bound to the will of the ones behind the Messengers. They sat not as equals, but as it they were devoted servants of the Ancient Messengers, their very essence trembling under the weight of expectation.

Even in the absence of the Ancients, the Messengers commanded the same fear and respect to the gods.

The room was heavy with obedience, the air thick with divine supplication, as if the Spire itself demanded compliance.

The Messengers did not speak individually, for their voices were one. They rose from their thrones in unison, their movements synchronized as though they were threads of the same celestial weave.

When they spoke, their words were not sound but an undeniable force that rippled through the chamber, embedding itself into the fabric of reality.

“Divine Decree: Judgment Onto Obsidians—The Cosmic Cursed Family of God-Slayers!”

The proclamation resonated like a thousand choirs, each note imbued with unyielding authority. The gods remained still, their heads bowed even lower, their silence not born of fear but of unwavering devotion.

Then, as though commanded by an unseen hand, the gods rose to their feet in perfect harmony. The sound of their movement was softer than a whisper yet carried a weight that seemed to shift the cosmos itself. With one motion, they bent at the waist, bowing deeply towarda not the Messengers but the Divine Decree, their voices breaking the silence like a divine hymn.

“AYE!”

“VERILY, WE BOW!”

“SO IT IS ORDAINED!”

“THY WILL IS DONE!”

“WE HEAR AND OBEY!”

“BY THY COMMAND!”

“IT SHALL BE SO!”

“LO, WE SUBMIT!”

“AS THOU DECREEST, SO IT IS!”

The gods sang, their words spoken in an ancient and divine power, carried with it the resonance of eternity. It was a vow, an acceptance of the judgment, spoken with a tone that was both reverent and absolute.

Their voices, layered and harmonic, echoed endlessly within the hall, reverberating through the very foundations of the Spire, like divine sings of angels.

The Messengers, their forms still as mountains yet alive with the flicker of divine energy, watched in silence.

The gods’ bows deepened, their forms nearly touching the star-strewn floor, their servitude unshakeable. It was not merely obedience—it was worship, their existence a testament to their eternal servitude.

____

Far away…

The Celestial Conclave stood as a marvel of creation, a structure that defied mortal comprehension. Its architecture was a blend of elements—light, shadow, and the primal forces of existence itself. The walls pulsed with cosmic energy, glowing softly with colors that no mortal eyes could name.

Colossal pillars rose to the skies, their surfaces etched with runes that whispered the histories of countless worlds.

The ceiling was an endless expanse of the cosmos, stars shifting and forming constellations that told stories of ancient glories and tragedies.

In the center of this sanctified space stood a circular table forged from the remnants of dying stars, its surface a swirling pool of molten light and dark.

Around it, five thrones were arranged. Four were of equal height.

The thrones were forged from the essence of the cosmos, each representing a primordial force.

The Throne of the Crag was carved from the essence of collapsing stars, solid and unyielding, radiating the weight of infinite worlds.

The Throne of Flame burned with the light of newborn suns, its surface flickering between searing gold and deep crimson, alive with the pulse of creation.

The Throne of Tides flowed like liquid void, its surface shifting endlessly, reflecting the boundless depths of the cosmic seas.

The Throne of Zephyr was an ethereal current, formed from the first winds that swept across the void, its shape forever in motion yet perfectly balanced.

Each throne stood timeless and absolute, embodying the raw power of the universe.

Yet, one throne stood higher than the rest, an imposing silhouette of divine authority. This throne was wreathed in radiant energy, its form shifting with every moment as though it could not be confined to a single shape.

The beings seated in the Conclave were not mere messengers or servants of the divine—they were the embodiment of power, their forms exuding a majesty that could sunder entire realms with but a glance. The Ancient Gods… The uncrowned rulers of the God Realm and the Godly Realms. The one who sat above the Council Of Gods.

They bowed to the highest throne, where the silhouette of a woman of boundless majesty, her form both mortal and divine. Her presence radiated a power so profound it reshaped the very air, her voice the essence of creation itself—soft yet commanding, irresistible yet serene.

The four Ancient Gods gods spoke as one, their forms radiating raw power. Together, they spoke, their voices harmonizing in a choir of their ancient authority.

{“‘Tis done! The decree hath been passed!”}

The woman on the high throne nodded, her presence overwhelming. The very air seemed to ripple with her power, sending waves of energy across the realm.

“They did not join, did they?” Her voice was like the first melody of existence, sweet and haunting, yet so powerful it swept across the cosmos like an unstoppable tide.

The four beings lowered their heads in unison. The Elemental Ancient spoke forward and answered in a voice heavy with disappointment.

{“Nay, Endlesses joined not! Moreover, Lilith hath not been seen since that Obsidian’s demise!”}

A second Ancient male god, growled, his voice tinged with restrained fury.

{“The Endlesses cannot have wandered too far!”}

Before he could continue, the woman’s voice lashed out, a sharp command that silenced all.

{“The Endlesses have gone too far!”}

{“Silence! Endlesses are not to be spoken of further!”}

The gods bowed deeply, their forms dimming in submission.

{“Prepare the heavenly host,”}she commanded. {“Elemental Ancient, summon forth thy spawns!”}

The Elemental Ancient knelt, his shifting form pulsating with acknowledgment.

{“By thy will, High Eternal Ancient Sovereign. ‘Tis already done.”}

And with that, the Conclave stirred to life, its walls trembling with the echoes of impending war. The heavens themselves seemed to brace for what was to come.