Asgard — Temple of Light.
A shimmering portal of radiance opened in the center of the temple, and from within, the figure of Balder, the God of Light, slowly emerged.
But just as his foot crossed the threshold, Balder stopped. His eyes narrowed, peering through the gateway, scanning the farthest reaches of existence.
"This feeling…"
Even with his power now elevated to that of a Sub-Allfather, Balder sensed something strange — a presence that seemed to stretch across fate itself.
It wasn't the oppressive gaze of a cosmic powerhouse. No — this was different.
It was subtle, crawling, ancient — like the whisper of an unseen god watching from between worlds.
A mark that bypassed divine perception.
Not aimed at his body, but at his bloodline, soul, and destiny.
"Could it be… the Ancient Ones beyond the veil? The Old Gods who cursed Asgard?"
Balder's brow furrowed deeply.
Now he understood why Cul, the God of Fear, had warned him not to return to the Nine Realms so soon.
He inhaled slowly, the light around him flickering. The Cross-Realm Gate sheltered him for now — a bridge between dimensions where such malignant influence could not reach.
"So be it," he murmured. "Until I attain full Father-level strength—or seize the False Omniscient Authority—I must not set foot in the Nine Realms again."
With a thought, Balder's form vanished into light, and the gateway rippled out of existence.
The moment Balder descended, the world itself changed.
The entire planet now existed under the radiance of the God of Light.
Over ninety percent of humanity had converted, their faith burning like an endless sea of golden flame.
Those few who remained skeptical — even they feared and respected his divine name.
The Church of Light had become the world's supreme power, surpassing all nations and governments.
The age of kings had returned — and this time, God truly granted the crown.
At the center of this new world stood Lake Manor, once the site of divine descent. To the faithful, it was sacred ground — the place where the Apostle of Light had first appeared.
Without altering its original beauty, the followers expanded the area, transforming it into the grandest temple of the new age.
And presiding over it all — Ivanka, the former heiress, now sanctified as the Holy Maiden of the Light.
Her authority ranked only below the God and His Apostle.
Inside a lavish dressing chamber, Ivanka sat gracefully before a mirror.
Dozens of attendants worked silently around her, adjusting her gown — a ceremonial robe so intricate and magnificent it could only belong to a queen of divinity.
Gone was the seductive charm of the modern heiress.
What replaced it was sovereign majesty — the aura of a woman who ruled through faith and light.
She gazed at her reflection, lips curling into a proud, content smile.
She had risen beyond her mortal roots.
The Apostle of Light had vanished, and the Lord Himself had not manifested again.
That meant — she now stood at the pinnacle of this world.
The Queen chosen by God.
But then —
"You're even more enchanting than before."
The voice came from behind her — low, male, and terribly familiar.
Ivanka froze.
No man was permitted near her anymore. Every attendant in this temple was female, chosen for both purity and intellect. Even her father had voluntarily withdrawn, fearing to sully her sanctity.
So how—?
Then it hit her. That voice — she knew that voice.
She spun around, eyes widening in disbelief and joy.
"Apostle… you've returned!"
And there he was — the man who had once brought divine power to her world.
Still impossibly handsome, but now his aura had grown beyond mortal comprehension — refined, transcendent, divine.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She'd always admired power more than beauty — but now both stood before her, embodied in one man.
Back then, during the world's crisis, she had suppressed those emotions. But now… peace reigned.
And desire, long restrained, began to rise.
She stood, each step a practiced, elegant stride — the walk of a queen approaching her god.
"My dear Apostle," she said softly, voice like velvet.
"Did you return… because you missed me?"
Her eyes shimmered — deep, alluring, impossible to ignore.
Balder had intended to open a new Cross-Realm Gate, to continue his divine expansion.
But right now…
He smiled faintly.
Perhaps that can wait.
There were, after all, matters of far greater urgency.
With one stride, Balder moved forward, wrapping the radiant maiden in his arms.
He lifted her effortlessly — and with divine ease, carried her back toward his chamber.
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