NOVEL NEXT Chapter 806: The Cost Of Immortality
Kafka's eyes widened, his stomach dropping at the name alone. It was as if just hearing it sent a chill down his spine.
"Life...and death?" He repeated, his throat dry.
"Yes." Seraphina's tone was solemn, almost reverent. "Just as the title implies, the being who attains it would wield dominion over the cycle of all things, birth, death, rebirth."
"Not just the lives of mortals, not just the fates of stars or worlds, but the existence of the universe itself."
"If they willed it, they could erase every grain of existence with a thought...and in the same breath, create a new universe altogether."
Kafka staggered a step back, clutching his head. His breath caught, short and harsh, as if the weight of her words alone pressed down on him.
"You're...kidding. That's...that's impossible. That's crazy to even think about."
"It is real." She replied firmly. "And terrifying. Even we True Gods, who can craft suns, sculpt seas, and spin galaxies into being...we cannot do that."
"We maintain the laws of the universe. We do not rewrite them. We are guardians of order, not destroyers of it."
"But an Eternal Sovereign could do what even the universe itself fears, tear down its laws and inscribe their own."
She let her words linger before adding.
"And even though these are only rumours spoken above and haven't been proven, if one day, such a being chose to end their own existence—then all existence would collapse with them. Everything. Gone."
Kafka shook his head violently, his hair damp with cold sweat.
"Stop. Stop, don't say any more. My head's already...gods, I feel like I'm gonna pass out just hearing this." He pressed his palm against his temple, his chest heaving. "What does that have to do with me anyway? Just...get to the point. Please."
Seraphina's expression softened with sympathy. She gave a small nod.
"Forgive me. I forget that to mortals, even demi-gods like yourself, these concepts are like trying to drink the entire sea in a single breath."
She took a moment, then continued, her voice gentler.
"You must understand: such a class of god has never existed. Not once, since the beginning of time. No god has ever reached that throne. For to do so, one must already be a True God, and then ascend further still. That is what I meant by the Ascension of a God."
"But why?" Kafka blinked rapidly, his brows knitting together. "If such power is waiting at the peak, why hasn't anyone gone for it? Isn't it the most natural thing that a True God would want?...Like to be the King of Existence itself."
Her lips curved in the faintest, almost bitter smile.
"It is not a simple ascension, Kafka. It is an ordeal no sane being would ever willingly attempt. An impossible task. A trial that has claimed countless gods who dared try. And so, for eons upon eons, none dared attempt it again. The path lay abandoned."
Kafka's lips parted, but no words came. He simply stared at her. "...So what is it? This trial?"
Her gaze grew distant, her voice low.
"In concept, it is simple. All one must do is step into the flow of chaos itself, the primordial river that birthed all of existence. They must travel from the first spark of creation, through every chaos cycle, all the way to the present."
"And as they journey, they must bear the consciousness of every single thing in the universe. Every birth, every death, every joy, every grief. Every cry of a child, every scream of war, every whisper of love. All of it, at once."
Kafka stared at her blankly, then let out a short, humorless laugh. "...Can you say that again? In English this time? Because right now, I have absolutely no idea what you just said."
Seraphina's gaze sharpened, her voice lowering into something grave, almost reverent.
"The trial of ascension..." She said slowly. "...is not a simple climb. It is a crucible of eternity itself. One does not merely meditate for a day or a year or even a lifetime."
"They must take themselves back, back to the very dawn of existence, when there was no light, no form, only chaos swirling in an endless void. They must sit in that nothingness as it blooms into somethingness."
Kafka frowned, still holding his head from the weight of her words. "You mean...like watching history?"
"No..." Her eyes darkened. "Not just watching. Becoming history. Every moment of creation, every instant of destruction, every ripple of existence must flow through you."
"Imagine, Kafka, every stone that has ever split, every tree that has ever grown, every river that has ever run, every child that has ever been born, every scream that has ever torn the air, every star that has ever exploded, you must feel it."
"Not as a witness, but as if you were the one being those things. The agony of a planet tearing itself apart. The weeping of a mother holding her dead child. The crack of an atom, splitting endlessly. All of it. At once. For every cycle of chaos."
Kafka's breath caught, horror spreading across his face. "That's...That's impossible."
Seraphina gave a slow nod. "Exactly. That is why countless True Gods have perished in the attempt. They are drowned in consciousness, their minds shattered beneath the unbearable tide. Their names, their forms, their existences erased entirely, because once you enter the flow of chaos, there is no turning back."
"Either you emerge immortal, Sovereign of Life and Death itself...or you are unmade forever."
Her words sank heavy into the night, echoing in the boundless sky around them making Kafka stagger a little on the cloud beneath his feet, his face pale.
"So...they have to live through...every instant. From the very beginning...all the way until now?"
"Not once." Her tone grew heavier. "But for every cycle of chaos in which they have lived. If a god has seen 10000 cycles, then 10000 must they endure it."
"Each cycle from the first flicker of creation to the final collapse. Billions upon Billions of years compressed into the span of a single meditation. Every collision of asteroids, every insect crawling in the dirt, every whispered prayer, every war, every death. All of it, burned into their mind."
"Do you see now, Kafka? That is why ascension has been called an impossibility. Why the trial has been abandoned since the dawn of memory."
Kafka could barely breathe. His hands trembled at his sides. "That...That's just not something that can be done. That's torture. That's...that's suicide."
Seraphina closed her eyes briefly, as though in mourning for all who had ever tried. When she opened them again, her cold sapphire gaze locked onto him.
"And yet, that is the only path. To bear the conscience of all existence, to endure it without shattering, and to emerge as more than a god, an Eternal Sovereign of Life and Death. That, and only that, is ascension."
He tried to laugh but it came out as a strangled sound, closer to a sob.
"No one could survive that. Not even gods. You said yourself, they tried, and they died. Their existence erased." He rubbed his temples hard, as if pressing his skull might force clarity. "So who, who in their right mind—?"
And then he stopped. His body froze mid-breath. His eyes widened, realization dawning like a blade drawn slow and cruel across his chest.
"Wait..." He whispered, then louder, stumbling forward a step. "Wait just a damn minute."
He pointed at her, his hand trembling.
"You said it yourself earlier. Only someone who had ascended could break the barrier. Only someone who rewrote the laws of the universe could force themselves into the mortal realm."
His voice cracked, horror twisting his features.
"But my mother, she broke through. She came here. That means—"
Seraphina did not flinch. She only inclined her head, her eyes locking onto his.
"Yes." She said, each word heavy as iron. "That is exactly what it means. Until now, in all of existence, there had never been an Eternal Sovereign of Life and Death. Not once, not since the first chaos cycle. But now—"
She drew a breath, voice lowering to a grave whisper.
"...your mother, Lady Vanitas, has ascended. She is the first. She is no longer merely a True God. She is the Eternal Sovereign..."
"...The strongest existence to ever live."
The clouds seemed to tilt beneath him. Kafka staggered, clutching his chest as if the weight of the words might crush him. His throat went dry.
His mother...His own mother...not just powerful, but beyond everything, beyond all laws, able to erase all existence with a thought, able to recreate it just as easily.
But what shook him even more wasn't the fear, it was the confusion.
'If she's really that powerful...then why me?'
The thought circled in his head, not with anger, but with a gnawing, earnest confusion. His hands trembled, not from rage, but from the sheer impossibility of it all.
'If she could erase everything in an instant, why go through me? Why force me into that position? Why make me...the instrument to her death?'
His throat tightened, his mind spinning as he tried to piece together something that made sense.
'She could do anything she wanted. If she's truly ascended, then she doesn't need help to do whatever she wants, certainly not from me, a mortal. So why? Why put me through that trial? Why push me to the edge, to the point where I almost—'
He swallowed hard, cutting off the thought before it finished. His chest ached, but not with betrayal, only with questions, endless questions.
'None of it adds up. If she's the strongest existence to ever live...then there must be a reason. There has to be something I don't know. Something I'm missing.'
His gaze lowered to the clouds beneath his feet, pale and unsteady, before lifting again toward Seraphina.
'I need to know. I need the truth. Because if I don't understand this, then I don't understand her. And if I don't understand my own mother...then my whole life, the life that I spent wondering who exactly my mother was would be meaningless.'
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