Chapter 101: Shattered Balance – Murmurs of a New God

Obsidian Court – War Table of the Ashen Thrones

"My flames are dimming just looking at it..." muttered Lord Vaeron, his molten gaze locked on the flickering vision orb. Chen Ming stood at the center of a battlefield scorched by divine fire, Soulflame Unison blazing from his body like a newborn sun, bonded lovers at his side like celestial wings.

Matriarch Soryn, usually composed, stood with fingers clenched into the stone table. "We miscalculated. Gravely."

A younger warlord leaned forward, voice sharp. "That's not just a technique—that's a system. Coordinated evolution with lovers as conduits. How many more can he bond with? Ten? Fifty? A thousand?"

Soryn's jaw tightened. "He's no longer climbing the path. He's writing it."

Silence fell, heavy as volcanic ash. For the first time in centuries, the Obsidian Court feared they were not the apex predators in the Divine Realm.

Court of Tempest – Winds of Conspiracy

"He stole it," spat Lady Aravael, storm silk rippling with fury. "That power is not native to this world."

Around her, the whispering winds carried divine rumors. Blasphemy. Rebirth. Evolution. Chen Ming's image burned like lightning across every scrying channel, each display further fraying the Tempest Court's patience.

"Perhaps," said High Strategist Valeon, ever calm, "but now he owns it."

He gestured to a glowing map showing Chen's battlefield reach—flawless synchronization, lethal precision, and an aura that melted divine resistance like snow in a wildfire.

"The Court of Lust has bred something impossible. If we do not act, we will be erased not by war, but by worship."

Aravael stared into the lightning mirror. "Then we sabotage the myth... before it becomes prophecy."

Court of Chains – Vault of Secrets

A chained figure leaned forward, grating metal against stone. "He cultivates with his lovers. His desire fuels his ascent. How poetic."

Mistress Nyra, voice like rusted bells, stirred in her webbed throne. "It is not poetry—it is infection. The Soulflame will spread."

An acolyte trembled in the shadows. "If he teaches others..."

Nyra hissed. "Then our leashes break. He teaches freedom through unity. Passion as power. That is heresy."

The chains groaned as the prisoner laughed. "And you love it."

Nyra said nothing. Her silence admitted the truth: somewhere, deep beneath her mask, she did envy it.

Court of Ice – Silent Summit

"We must kill him." The words were not a suggestion. They were law.

Spoken by Queen Eira, her skin crystalline, her breath pure frost. She stood before a frozen viewing pool, watching Chen's Soulflame spiral through the sky like a comet, trailing lovers, forging new stars.

"This... emotion-fueled method violates every tenet of our order."

Her hand hovered over an execution seal. But her Vizier, old and stooped, spoke before it fell.

"And yet... it works. Better than anything we've ever known."

Eira's eyes narrowed. "Do you doubt the cold?"

"I doubt stagnation."

The queen's hand froze. And she began to wonder—quietly, dangerously—if ice could burn.

Court of Lust – Tower of Crimson Mirrors

Lady Xinyi laughed as her attendants bathed her in red petals. "Look at them panic," she purred, wine sloshing in her goblet. "They thought passion was weakness."

An envoy whispered in her ear, "They now believe it may be divinity."

She smirked, lounging deeper. "I told them."

In her chambers, a massive mural of Chen and his bonded shimmered to life—each kiss, each union, a victory in their war of pleasure and power.

"Let them fear," she whispered, eyes aglow. "Let them imitate."

Then, lips curling in predatory delight, "They're already too late."

Unknown Realm – Beneath the Veil

Far beyond their sight, in a place untouched by Court allegiance, Lysaria watched through veiled light. A gentle smile graced her lips.

"They notice now," she murmured, "but they have not yet understood."

Chen's Soulflame flickered in her palm like a child's heartbeat.

"The era of lonely gods is ending."