Chapter 125 – Fractured Thrones, Fractured Loyalties

"The Flame Court has fallen."

Those five words echoed like thunder through every divine realm.

Across heavens sculpted from starlight and voidstone, in sanctuaries cloaked in shadows and silence, celestial eyes turned toward a single truth: the unthinkable had happened.

The Obsidian Court – Watching in Silence

Within the Obsidian Court's throne hall—black marble floors veined with memory and prophecy—masked figures stood around a flickering vision of the broken Flame Court.

The First Oracle tilted her head. "It wasn't just power… it was precision. He used Ardrek's fury against him."

"Should we act?" asked the Second Mask, a voice like wind scraping bone.

"No," said the Oracle, voice barely a whisper. "We do what we always do. Watch. Wait. When Chen Ming claims more than territory—when he starts claiming hearts—then we'll move."

And in the dark, a dozen eyes opened.

The Frost Court – Whispers Behind Ice

In the Frosted Vault, where gods of winter and silence made their council, Queen Isareth watched a shard of fire flicker within her scrying mirror.

"A godling who grows more like a storm than a flame," she said softly.

Her advisor bowed. "Shall we prepare contingencies?"

Isareth nodded. "Send an envoy. One he cannot ignore. One with ice in her blood and a debt to the mortal world."

The advisor hesitated. "You mean…"

"Yes. Send Aelra."

The Verdant Court – The Tangle Stirs

Deep in the living jungle of the Verdant Court, the vine-goddess Alavari writhed with tension as news of Ardrek's destruction reached her grove.

"He shattered a root that anchored the old order," she hissed.

The Wyrmbinder priest beside her murmured, "And yet, none can deny the flame was corrupt."

"True." Alavari's gaze shifted to a luminous bloom opening before her—a symbol of rebirth. "Perhaps it is time the garden was trimmed. Send word to the rebels. The God of Yang may have earned… conditional support."

The Sky Court – High Above, Cracking Foundations

High in the silver peaks of the Sky Court, thunder rolled across marble spires. Storm deities argued across floating platforms, voices raised in panic and fury.

"He's dismantling balance!"

"He destroyed a tyrant!"

"He's mortal! Or was!"

At the center, Archon Vaelis stood with arms crossed, silver robes billowing in the divine wind. His expression was unreadable.

"We will not move yet," he said. "But we will not let the next throne fall without response."

And behind him, hidden from all but the sky itself, lightning whispered a name in a voice older than the stars:Chen Ming.

Elsewhere – A Rising Storm

In places forgotten by courts and gods alike, others stirred.

Sealed tombs trembled. Forbidden altars bled light. The death of a Sovereign had consequences far beyond divine politics—it opened paths once barred.

And in one such place…A single eye opened.Yellow. Slitted. Smiling.