Son of the Hero King

Chapter 788

Sol stood at the edge of his dimension, silver hair catching the ambient light that seemed to emanate from nowhere and everywhere all at once. His rainbow-colored eyes swept across the vast expanse before him, observing the changes that had occurred during his absence.

The small part of his dimension that was not blanched in monochrome had grown now. That was the first thing he had noticed the moment he had entered his dimension for observation.

What was once a tiny patch of color in an endless grayscale void had expanded into something substantial in comparison. The ground beneath his feet felt more solid, more real, rather than the ethereal black and white of inversion.

The air carried a sensation it did not quite possess before. Mana flowed through the atmosphere in visible streams of light, coalescing and dispersing in natural patterns that reminded him of the simple pattern of breathing in and out.

His dimension was truly becoming alive. Not in the sentient sense, of course, but in the way a forest or an ocean was alive, incorporated with its own system of existence.

It had begun to produce its own mana rather than simply storing absorbed mana from the real world. The laws governing this dimensional space had stabilized and were now developing in a more fundamental manner than before.

The Inverse world was no longer a mere reflection of the real world. It had metamorphosed into the embryo of a new world.

It was beautiful in its own way. And terrifying when he considered what it meant. It was like raising his own child. Only to a far grander scale than anything else.

Absorbing a part of the Concept of Dreams from Hypnos had been very helpful. The battle had given him new insights into the boundaries between Dream and Reality, and that understanding had fundamentally changed how his dimension functioned and would continue to function moving forward, thereby enhancing its development.

“My world might even develop a Will soon.”

Once a Will was born and Fate settled, it would slowly shift into a true world where life could be born and held.

The black robes he wore shifted slightly as he moved, responding to his thoughts.

It was a divine weapon, born from his evolution during his battle with the goddess.

It was weaker than the Eye of Akasha, certainly, but it possessed incredible defensive capabilities. Sadly, its capabilities were not that useful for him as a dragon. But hey, no one ever complained about having too high a defense, so it was a plus in his books. The more there was, the better it would be for him.

At the minimum, the fabric could change shape, even fuse with his body if necessary. It could even cover his dragon form. So it was relatively useful in that sense.

He was still discovering the properties and applications of his latest divine weapon. He did not quite understand how the law of Love worked yet, after all.

“Your Highness, they are waiting for you.”

Sol turned on his heels to find Milia standing a respectful distance away from him. The head maid wore her usual black and white uniform, immaculate as always. To her, only seven days had passed. To Sol, it had been seventy. Seventy days of honeymoon bliss in a time-dilated chamber with Medea.

Maintaining that place for 7 whole days at such a time dilation speed had been burdensome even for him, coupled with the massive energy requirement to sustain it… the stunt had been costly on his powers. Nevertheless, it had been worth it without a shadow of a doubt.

He could still feel the warmth of those days even now, the peace of waking up beside his wife without the weight of the world and gods pressing down on him constantly. Peace was a luxury he could rarely afford nowadays. He was sad he was unable to give Medea, his first love, a genuine honeymoon, but his first lover had been very content with what she received. That was just how she was— Perfect.

“How do I look?” Sol asked, a ghost of a smirk hovering near his lips.

Milia’s professional mask cracked just enough to show a hint of pride. “Like a king, Your Highness. Though the silver hair and rainbow eyes will take some getting used to.”

Sol ran a hand through his hair. The transformation had been a side effect of losing his blessings and walking the Path of Balance with his Concept. The silver hue marked the new path he treaded, while the rainbow hue in his eyes was an evolution of the Eye of Akasha itself.

He had to make a conscious effort not to look at the river of time and the multitude of strings of fate that covered his landscape and vision at all times. His mind was simply too mortal to fully embrace this transcendental power, burrowing into the very core of the universe and existence, without accelerating his mental and emotional erosion.

“Let’s not keep them waiting then,” Sol replied, the smirk never leaving his ethereally handsome features.

They walked through the dimension, past two floating islands that housed sleeping forms. In the distance, where he once unleashed DEUS and the End, Sol could sense Lilith’s presence.

She was deep in meditation, her consciousness focused on constructing her divine territory within his dimension. She had insisted on using the remains of the End, and while Sol had been worried and hesitant about that decision, he ultimately allowed her to use them.

Her Concept of Severance was definitely a branch of the End. In the same way Lilith thought there was nothing in existence she could not cut, or rather sever, really, Sol believed there was no story or narrative that he could not put an end to.

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Nearby, Sun Wukong did the same, the Monkey King’s power causing occasional spatial ripples as he worked. His path was different and ultimately opposite to Lilith's severance. That was the very reason the Monkey King had asked permission to allow him to establish and lay down the foundation of his territory in Sol’s dimension.

In his words, to become indestructible, he had to understand the highest possible power of destruction, and what could have a higher ability for destruction than the End itself?

Both were at a critical juncture. The step from King to the vaulted Demigod realm required more than just raw power. It required a foundation, a territory, a place where their laws held absolute sway. Building that within Sol’s dimension offered both unique advantages and challenges.

“Soon I will have two very powerful helpers.” He muttered, wondering what kind of effect their claim for demigodhood would have on his dimension.

“We have arrived, Your Highness,” Milia said, and indeed… they had arrived at their destination.

The meeting hall materialized as they approached. Sol had constructed it during one of his experiments with spatial manipulation. It was a simple circular room with a round table at its center, chairs arranged democratically. No throne, no hierarchy. Just a place to converse and exchange their opinions.

Sol did not believe in democracy. Equality was a mere dream in a world where gods walked among mortals.

However, the hall he had constructed was different. It was a place only those he held dear to himself could gather, and in this place, no one was above them.

Six women were already seated when Sol had entered the space.

Medea sat closest to the entrance, her silver hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore an elegant black dress, not too different from her usual attire.

It was, in fact, her wedding dress. It had also evolved into a divine weapon, or rather a divine armor, so to speak. Her dress, too, could shift forms and change colors and had transformed from the frilly, elegant, white wedding dress to this simple and elegant black form that she was familiar with in her day-to-day clothing.

Currently, both Sol and Medea were quite well matched. Thanks to their similar hair and clothes.

Her heterochromatic eyes, one red and one gold, met his with a warmth reserved only for him. Seventy days together had deepened their bond in ways that made mere words unnecessary for them to relay their affection; mere glances were more than enough.

Persephone occupied the seat to Medea’s right. The Witch of Life looked as whimsical as ever, with green hair tied in a practical ponytail.

She wore a flowing green dress and had an intrigued expression on her face, as if she found the entire situation amusing. To Persephone, everything was a story, and the current circumstances were apparently quite interesting to her eyes.

She was witnessing a legend in the making after all.

Ambrosia sat across from Medea, her long black hair framing a face that seemed eternally mature and dignified. Her golden eyes held the weight of the millennia that she had not only lived but endured and triumphed.

She was wearing a white robe that shifted between white and gold, marked with multiple magical runes all geared towards increasing her casting speed.

Freya was next to Ambrosia, though she was impossible to miss.

The Witch of Space was clad entirely in pink. Pink hair, pink eyes, pink dress. Everything about her was aggressively pink. She sat with a casualness that suggested she had never cared about armor or formality in her entire life. Her eyes were constantly on Sol, and clearly, she was waiting to talk about something that weighed rather heavily on her.

La Befana, the President of the Witch Association, sat nearby.

Sol did not focus much on her appearance, as was his habit with the enigmatic witch. He had no deep attachment nor interest in her, and normally, he would not have allowed her in this sacred room. But, well, she was ranked high enough in the witches' hierarchy that it was practically impossible to have the incoming talk without her presence.

Finally, Kali sat at the far end. The Witch of Destruction wore her customized maid uniform, the black fabric accented with red trim. Her expression was neutral, professional. But he could see the cracks in her expression. She was bored out of her wits and most likely just wanted to sleep then and there.

“Sorry to keep everyone waiting,” Sol stated simply as he took his seat beside Medea. Milia positioned herself behind him, standing rather than sitting down like the rest of the women attending this meeting.

“You’re only a few minutes late, darling,” Medea responded reassuringly, a loving smile on her lips. “We’ve been discussing minor matters.”

“Minor matters that will become major problems if we don’t address them soon, might I remind,” Persephone added, though her tone was light, almost playful.

Sol leaned back in his chair and gestured for them to continue. “Then let’s begin. I assume you’re all here to bring me up to speed on what happened while Medea and I were… occupied.”

“Seventy days,” Freya muttered. “Must have been nice.” There was clear envy in her voice.

“It was,” Medea said simply, and the small smile on her face made several of the witches shift uncomfortably in their seats. They had a pretty clear picture of what happened.

La Befana spoke gently. “Perhaps we should start with the good news? Your dimension has stabilized beautifully, Your Highness. The mana production is exceeding our projections.”

“I noticed,” Sol deadpanned, that got some of the girls to smirk slightly. “The laws have settled as well. What about Lilith and Wukong?” he asked.

“Both are progressing well,” Ambrosia answered. “Lilith has been asleep for six days now. Her territory is taking shape. It’s quite fascinating, actually. Echidna and Anubis have been going crazy studying them.”

“You talk as if you were any better.” Persephone quipped, causing Ambrosia to cough out loud in embarrassment, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Wukong is doing something similar,” Persephone added with an amused tone. “Though his territory is more chaotic. Lots of mountains and clouds. That’s very much like him, might I add.”

Sol could not help himself from chuckling at that description. “And the four of you? You mentioned consolidating insights.”

Persephone was the first to respond, her eyes glinting with interest. “After witnessing Euphoria’s ascension and her subsequent defeat, we’ve all gained a new understanding of what it means to become a god. We’re taking time to digest those insights before attempting our own breakthroughs. It’s like reading the most fascinating chapter of a story and needing time to appreciate it before flipping to the next chapter.”

“It’s not something to rush,” Kali said quietly, finally finding something of interest to stifle her eternal boredom. “One wrong step and we could die. This is even more so since the gods of the concepts we want are still alive. I am honestly just waiting for Lilith to succeed before attempting anything.”

“With that said,” Ambrosia’s expression shifted to something resembling satisfaction. “We have good news regarding the curse.”

Sol straightened in his seat. The Curse of the Witches had been a persistent problem. Any man who bedded a witch would have his lifespan drained, dying within weeks or even days.

This was the cause of much grief for the witches over the millennia.

“We’ve been running tests,” Ambrosia continued. “Several of the younger witches have… volunteered to test the new parameters.”

“How many partners died?” Sol asked bluntly, preparing himself for the worst.

“None.” Ambrosia smiled. “That’s the remarkable part. The curse has been drastically diluted. Instead of draining lifespan, it now only takes stamina. The men are greatly exhausted afterward, certainly, but they recover within a day or two.”

Sol blinked. That was far better than he had hoped. “Was the wedding that useful?”

“Indeed,” Medea answered. “The curse’s power is being drawn to you instead. All that deadly energy that would normally spread across multiple partners is now targeting you exclusively. And since you’re… well, you… It can’t actually harm you.”

Sol processed that. His resistances were absurdly high thanks to his draconic nature and his various powers. In the first place, the curse had never affected him much. As for the part that could affect Fate? He cared even less. “So I’m serving as a lightning rod for all the curses of the witches?”

“Essentially, yes,” Ambrosia confirmed. “The curse still exists, but its lethal aspects are focused on you. This means other witches can take lovers without killing them.”

“And the pregnancy issue?” Sol asked.

“Solved, thanks to your rings,” Ambrosia said. “The rings you created are helping us bypass that particular aspect of the curse. Talks have already started about who would be allowed to become the first mother.”

That was genuinely good news. The curse itself was a consequence of the immense power the witches had gained from Asmodeus, not something he had imposed. But it still made their lives difficult.

Still, “What do you mean allowed?”

“No woman ever gave birth after becoming a witch. This is uncharted territory, and so someone needs to become the sacrificial lamb, so to speak. The first child will also face the most dangers.”

“Fair.” He nodded and looked at Medea an instant before focusing back on the task at hand.

“There’s more,” Ambrosia said, her tone shifting to something more serious. “Asmodeus is awake.”