Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise!

Should he feel honored that he had been on the brink of godhood—only to be denied because he was something more? Or unsettled by the fact that he wasn't just the Embodiment of Lust anymore, but now the Corruption of Lust—the forbidden counterpart, the unspoken half?

It meant something big. Monumental.

Lilith represented the pure divine side of Lust—the sovereign of desire in its celestial form.

He, on the other hand…

He was the raw, uncontrollable echo.

The other half.

Together, they were no longer just master and accident. They were now the two sovereigns of Lust.

Duality of Lust

Balance of Lust: The two sides, like White and Black!

Wrath and reverence.

And honestly? Pyris found that… fascinating.

The reasons for his failed ascension didn't bother him. Not really. He'd never been the type to crave sitting on some high throne, throwing lightning bolts and demanding worship. From the start, he'd wanted to be more than a pest chewing for scraps of divinity. He wanted to devour the hierarchy and build his own myth from the ashes.

The name still echoed in his mind like a riddle:

The Cosmic Cursed Family.

Huh.

That explained more than a few things.

He smirked.

Whatever.

His family was never meant to be gods. That was too small a box anyway. They were slayers of gods—designed by the cosmos itself as its great correction. A family forged not to sit beside deities… but to keep them in check.

So why would they ever be allowed to become gods?

It all made perfect sense.

But what he hadn't expected—

What blindsided him like a badly timed divine meme—

Was the stunt Balance and Order pulled. Showing up like angry landlords trying to evict his soul, only to back down at the last second and suddenly declare him…

> "The Little Champion of the Endlesses."

Pyris blinked at the memory.

Seriously?

Little?

Little Champion?

The fanbase was clearly growing… but the branding needed work.

Still, champions usually came with perks. Powers. Titles. Cool coats maybe?

"…Wait," he said aloud, eyebrows raised. "Did becoming their champion come with some goodies?"

[No, Host.]

He deadpanned. "I guess not. Pretty much useless then."

[I beg to differ, Host.]

"Keep quiet, system. What's the use of being their champion if I don't get anything? Useless title. What kind of stingy, dusty old conceptual forces crown someone and give nothing? Not even a badge?"

> [Balance and Order do not operate on reward-based incentives—]

"Exactly. Useless."

He rolled his eyes. "Not like my beautiful Endless Lilith. She gives ichor, powers, a whole embodiment class change. Now that's generosity. Not like these petty, stingy old souls tryna humble me."

He folded his arms.

"'Little Champion.' Pfft. I need new PR."

____

Pyris hadn't expected the gift from Moon to be anything major—maybe something symbolic, maybe a trace of gentle power left in gratitude. But now, standing here, soul still pulsing from the aftermath of near-ascension, he realized just how wrong he'd been.

He should've known better.

Moon wasn't just an Endless. She was an Ascended Endless—one of the rare few who had walked her way to the top, carving her existence through shadow, silence, and sheer will. That kind of path? Most beings couldn't even comprehend it, let alone survive it.

And the gift?

There were two.

The first was subtle—so subtle it didn't even feel like a gift at all.

Subconscious Power.

Without lifting a finger, without saying a word, without even focusing his will, Pyris could feel reality begin to bend around him. Not drastically, not yet, but like a tide pulling ever-so-slightly in his direction. His presence altered probabilities. His thoughts nudged outcomes. He was beginning to influence the his surroundings the same way gravity influences stars—passively, invisibly, inevitably.

Moon had granted him access not to control mana, or matter, but to touch something deeper—

Energy itself.

Not magic. Not divine. Not elemental.

But Reality Energy.

The primal current that shaped existence from the beginning. It was like the human theory: that if one's subconscious fully aligned with intent, anything could be achieved.

Only in Pyris' case, that wasn't theory. It was now law.

His thoughts.

His will.

His breath.

His deep subconscious—touched by Moon—was now wired to the original patterns of existence. The blueprint of everything.

And yet…

He didn't even fully understand it.

The gift didn't feel present. It didn't surge through him like fire or scream in system pings. It slipped into place. Hidden. Silent. Deep.

Some would never even realize it was there.

But it was.

Intuned not just to his thoughts—but to the first thought that birthed reality.

[Power of the Mind.]

Perhaps that was how the Moon Goddess had become an Endless.

She hadn't risen through brute force or by dominating the pantheon. She hadn't shined like the Sun, blinding the cosmos with raw energy and divine heat. No—she had taken a quieter, more terrifying path. She had become something unending not through what she did—but through what she understood.

She ruled over the unseen.

Over the Subconscious.

And not just thoughts. Not just dreams.

But the bridge between what beings believe and what becomes real.

Pyris tried to wrap his head around it, but there wasn't a place to start. Not really. How could you explain that ancient saying—"Your thoughts shape your reality"—and mean it literally?

That was her Domain.

The true Domain of the Endless Moon.

Every sentient being that vibrated within Reality was subject to this rule: their thoughts—especially the subconscious ones—bent the very world around them. They didn't control fate through spells or willpower. They did it through belief, identity, quiet fears, hidden hopes. Every dream, every moment of doubt or certainty, planted seeds.

And she—the Moon—sat above it all, governing the laws of this silent manipulation.

Even gods weren't free of it.

Perhaps only the other Endlesses or the Eternals escaped this web.

But everything else—everything—was touched by her Domain.

Out of billions of worlds across hundreds of realities, only a handful operated beyond her reach. And Pyris had been granted a piece of her principle—not a spark of her power like with Lilith, but the function.

He couldn't control others' subconscious realities. That was her right alone.

But he could now manipulate his own.

Not in some fairy tale way where thinking about money dropped a billion into his account. That would be childish.

No—this was more dangerous. More real.

If he thought of... let's say power rank—if he aligned his soul, mind, and subconscious toward that desire—then Reality itself would shift around him to create the path.

Opportunities would appear.

Doors that didn't exist would crack open.

Events would lean toward that outcome—not because he demanded it, but because Reality had been nudged gently, patiently, inevitably… by his inner world.

It wasn't power in the form of lightning.

It was power in the form of alignment.

And in that quiet truth, Pyris realized something most gods never would—

He didn't have to fight Reality.

He could simply teach it to respond to him.