The Guardian gods Chapter 865

Ikenga took a step forward, his foot tapping against a loose brick near the damaged fountain. The liquid gold that had spilled out earlier now lay motionless, dull, and utterly lifeless.

"Look at your domain," Ikenga stated, motioning towards the encroaching grayness. "A treasury is meant to experience flow. Wealth equates to power because it circulates, it influences, it dictates. By isolating yourself, you have caused your own divinity to stagnate. You are effectively suffocating the very concept you embody."

Tide gazed down at his own shaking hands. For months, this numbness had served as his only defense. However, Ikenga had brutally shattered that defense with a single, decisive strike, exposing the raw, agonizing truth of his wounded pride. He was a scion of Jaus. He was the God of the Everflowing Treasury. Yet, he was being surpassed by a being that had clawed its way out of mere mud.

A faint, deep hum began to emanate from within Tide's chest. Though subtle, for the first time in a considerable period, the oppressive grayness that filled the air flickered erratically.

"What..." Tide swallowed hard, the metallic taste of blood still lingering in his mouth, as he finally managed to lift his head to meet Ikenga's penetrating gaze. "What did you require my assistance with, Uncle?"

Ikenga briefly glanced at him, his features unreadable as he coolly shook his head. "You have no need to concern yourself with my matters. It was a mistake to believe you could be of any use to me."

Turning his back on the ruined fountain, Ikenga commenced his ascent, preparing to depart from the desolate domain entirely. He took a single step into the empty air, but just before he could vanish, a sudden, desperate movement sliced through the gloom. A strong, quivering hand shot out, firmly seizing Ikenga’s arm and arresting his departure.

Ikenga stopped. He deliberately raised a single eyebrow, tilting his head to look back down at Tide, whose grip on his arm was now intensely firm.

"Please, Uncle... I need this," Tide implored, his voice catching with a raw vulnerability he hadn't displayed in ages.

The silence between them thickened, yet Tide maintained his hold. He exhaled a shaky breath, the unvarnished truth spilling forth. "I have been trapped in this state for so long... and it's not entirely because of Siren. It's because I couldn't conceive of a way to progress. I couldn't discover a path to break through this immense barrier. Please... I truly need this."

A slow, genuine smile finally graced Ikenga's lips as he stepped back down onto the fractured ground. "It appears, after all, that a spark of your will still remains."

Tide offered no verbal reply. Instead, he responded with a sudden, sharp exertion of his divine will.

A surge of restorative power radiated outward from his form. As if a film were rapidly rewinding, the palace's very structure began to violently reconstruct itself. The suffocating dust dissipated, the fractured columns snapped back into perfect alignment, and the damaged fountain reformed, once again gushing with clear, sparkling liquid gold. The magnificent, blinding luminescence of the treasury had finally been restored. Although a substantial portion of the broader realm remained submerged in the shadows of his prolonged despair, this intimate, central sanctuary had recaptured its former radiance.

With the immediate tension dissipated, the two gods proceeded deeper into the revitalized palace and took their places.

As their conversation commenced, Ikenga quickly grasped the extent of Tide's isolation. Lost in his pathetic state of self-pity, he had been utterly unaware of the monumental events reshaping the world beyond, including the recent, cataclysmic confrontation between two Paragons.

Acknowledging Tide's lapse in knowledge, Ikenga patiently took his time to relate every detail, meticulously outlining the new power structures governing their world. Once that was accomplished, his focus shifted, concentrating entirely on the Mage Towers, the true and primary objective that had drawn him to the Everflowing Treasury today.

While explaining the fundamental significance of the Mage Towers to the Paragons, Ikenga casually gestured with his hand. Two exceedingly rare substances materialized in the space between them, hovering serenely. One was a dense, reality-bending mineral identified as a Condensed Law Anchor, which appeared to subtly warp the very atmosphere surrounding it. The other was an iridescent, translucent crystal that pulsed with a distinct energy, a Prismatic Mana Regulator.

Indicating the two components with a pointed finger, Ikenga declared, "Among the myriad of essential materials our world naturally lacks, these two are the only ones that myself and the other Origin Gods can currently actively synthesize. We are capable of forging them at a consistent and dependable rate."

With another decisive flick of his wrist, the luminous replica of the world map unfurled between them, suspended above the immaculate golden floor.

"What you see mapped out here are the exact coordinates of the remaining tower components that do naturally exist within our world," Ikenga spoke, his voice low. He pointed directly at several brightly cluster-marked regions on the map. "But as you can plainly see, the vast majority of these deposits are buried deep within claimed territories, lands actively controlled by human kingdoms and godlings."

Ikenga leaned back, "Right now, they are entirely clueless. To them, these priceless veins look like nothing more than useless, un-mineable bedrock, or strange, excessively heavy stone that does nothing but shatter their iron mining tools. But that blissful ignorance is a luxury with a strict expiration date. The moment the existence and true utility of the Mage Towers leak to the public, everything will change."

Tide’s eyes raced across the glowing coordinates of the map, his financial and logistical genius finally sparking back to life. The oppressive gloom that had hung over him was completely replaced by a tense, hyper-focused energy.

"If your words about these towers are true," Tide murmured, tracing a massive deposit located right on a volatile border, "then that means the creation of a single tower requires absolute access to every single one of these mapped locations and materials."

He looked up at Ikenga "Right now as you said, it just looks like useless, un-mineable bedrock. But the moment the truth comes out, the Paragons will no longer care about borders. They will launch brutal excavation campaigns, strip-mining their own lands and invading anyone else to secure the earth veins of these materials."

Tide slammed his palm onto the table, projecting the geopolitical fallout in real time. "Smaller kingdoms sitting on massive deposits will become targets for immediate annexation by stronger Paragons. The entire global market for raw resources will collapse overnight, replaced by a wartime economy driven solely by the race for tower construction."

"When the Paragons finally get their hands on the secrets of the towers," Ikenga added, as he leaned over the glowing blueprint, "their joy will be short-lived. It will turn to ash the very moment their miners make a calculation of those veins."

He tapped a specific, isolated pocket of ore on the map.

"They will quickly calculate the global volume of the excavated ore and realize a terrifying truth, the world of Nana only has enough natural bedrock to support a mere handful of Mage Towers. If a rival kingdom successfully completes more towers, there might not be enough material left on the entire planet for anyone else to build even one."

Ikenga’s eyes locked onto his nephew "This completely eliminates the option of waiting and seeing. Paragons cannot afford to sit back and watch others build. The sheer fear of being permanently left behind in a world where these towers dictate absolute military dominance will force them to launch preemptive, genocidal wars. They will butcher entire nations just to secure the remaining mines before the world’s supply runs completely dry."

Tide had perked up completely by this point, his mind racing to keep up with the sheer brutality of the scenario. Hearing Ikenga’s last words, the final pieces of the puzzle slammed into place. His eyes widened in genuine shock as a chill ran down his spine.

"Uncle..." Tide breathed, staring at the older god in a mix of awe and terror. "Are you... are you fully aware of the chaos you are about to unleash upon the world?"

Ikenga could easily see the mounting apprehension written across Tide’s face. He looked at his nephew, his tone dropping into a flat, absolute tone that brooked no further questioning.

"You have no need to concern yourself with why this is being done," Ikenga said coldly. "Just understand that this was a decision made collectively among the Origin Gods."

He shifted his gaze back to the two floating, artificial materials hovering between them, the Condensed Law Anchor and the Prismatic Mana Regulator.

"These are two of the ten major components required for a tower to physically stand before it can even dream of birthing a core," Ikenga explained, pointing at the exotic structures. "And just as I told you before, these specific components cannot be found anywhere in our world, a brutal reality that the Paragons will eventually come to realize on their own after they have already bled each other dry for the bedrocks, confident on completing their goal"