NOVEL WEB Chapter 40: Heir of the Forgotten Pantheon
The heavens, still recovering from the cataclysmic awakening of the Golden Tempest Dragon, trembled once more.
Yet this time, it was not the sky that roared.
It was the heavens themself.
A deep, guttural tremor spread across the continent, like the heartbeat of something ancient stirring after eons of slumber. The ground cracked. The air grew thick with a suffocating presence.
And then—
The vision of the Asura Sovereign—a terrifying, six-armed figure wreathed in demonic flames and chaos—began to writhe.
It thrashed against the very fabric of reality, unwilling to be surpassed and a rift above the sky was struggling to open as if being prevented from being opened.Its eyes blazing with .....
Fury
Not mere rage—but a cosmic, all-consuming wrath that had been buried for eons.
Unlike the Dragon's defiance, which burned bright like the sun, the Asura Sovereign's fury was cold, calculating, and absolute.
The skies turned black.
The wind ceased.
The world itself held its breath.
And then—
A blue flame ignited within the vision's heart.
It was not ordinary fire.
It was divine. Ethereal. Uncontrollable.
And it was watching.
The people watching held their breath. Even the most seasoned warriors felt a primal, instinctual fear creeping up their spines.
Then, A deep hum resonated across the battlefield. It wasn't sound. It wasn't energy.
It was something deeper.
A pulse from beyond time.
A pulse that reached a realm untouched by mortal worship.
A place where divinity slumbered.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Far beyond mortal perception, in the celestial realm atop Mount Kailash, a figure sat in perfect stillness.
Shiva , The God of Gods
The Destroyer
The Supreme
The One Long Forgotten
A figure sat in serene stillness, his presence vast yet boundless, both calm and cataclysmic.
Seated in his eternal meditation, he opened his eyes slightly —calm, all-encompassing, and filled with the wisdom of countless cycles of creation and destruction.
His skin, the color of the stormy sky.
His matted hair, coiled in locks that held the currents of the Ganges.
His throat, darkened by the poison he once drank to save the cosmos.
His body bore the weight of galaxies, yet he seemed as light as the wind.
His fingers, idly tapping against the cold, stone, stilled.
His half-lidded gaze, which had been lost in eternity, focused.
For the first time in what felt like eons, an Asura was waking up again.
His lips curled.
He gazed down upon the mortal realm with an expression that was neither surprise nor indifference—but something deeper and softer.
Nostalgia.
A soft smile graced his lips as he watched the vision of the Asura tremble, on the verge of rebirth.
The Asuras…
The beings once hailed as the greatest of his devotees.
The ones who had carved temples in his name, who had danced the Tandava in his honor, who had battled gods themselves with his name on their tongues.
Before time swallowed their legacy.
Before they were forgotten.
But now—
Now, one was trying to return..
And he would not be forgotten again.
His voice, carrying the weight of the cosmos, was barely above a whisper—yet it echoed through every corner of existence.
"Ah… it has been too long ."
"You were always the most devoted, you may have been forgotten in the annals of time but you have never lost my love and grace, little asura."
A whisper. A memory. A truth forgotten by time itself.
The Asuras—feared, despised, erased from history—had once been the most devout followers of the Supreme God.
But they had not fallen his grace.
And now, after countless ages—one of their own was rising again.
Lord Shiva raised a hand, the very cosmos quivering at the gesture.
Then, he flicked and the universe itself trembled and the rift that was struggling to open suddenly erupted.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Below, the vision of the Asura Sovereign began to crack—just like the Bloodflame Thunder Dragon had.
But this was different.
Instead of being dragged away into another realm—something descended to claim it.
From the skies, a rift tore open—a gateway not of the heavens, but of the primordial abyss.
A place that existed since time , before even order..
The Asura's True Realm.
A dimension of chaos and destruction.
A place where only the strongest could endure.
A realm that had been long sealed away—the Forgotten Battlefield of the Asura Kings.
And from within—
From the depths of the abyss— a voice echoed in Adrian's ears.
A whisper—not a voice, but a force beyond language—resonated through the air.
"Awaken, my lost kin.", it whispered softly
Then suddenly-
an arm—colossal, obsidian-black, and wreathed in crimson destruction erupted from the abyss.
It was not the hand of a beast.
It was divine.
A true Asura's hand, reaching from the forgotten void, where gods once feared to tread.
It did not drag the Asura Sovereign away.
It embraced it.
Then, a second hand.
A third.
A fourth.
A fifth.
A sixth.
Each limb pulsed with an energy that defied all known laws—neither purely divine nor purely demonic.
Something older.
Something more primal.
A presence not of chaos, nor of order, but of absolute destruction.
A presence that even gods once feared.
And then—
Pulled it into the abyss.
The vision of the Asura Sovereign's form disappeared.
For the briefest moment, Adrian's breath hitched.
He felt it.
Not just the pain.
Not just the struggle.
He felt their rage.
Their grief.
Their longing to return.
But before he could process it, the abyss ripped apart, unleashing an inferno of blackened divinity.
From the abyss emerged a new form.
What descended upon the world was something that had not existed for eons.
A figure wreathed in shadows darker than the void itself.
Six arms, each radiating a different form of destruction.
Six eyes, blazing with the forgotten truths of the past.
And upon its brow—
A blackened trident insignia, pulsating with an authority that made even the gods stir in their slumber.
A towering figure with four faces, each embodying one of the four ultimate truths of destruction.
Each of his four faces bore a different expression—one of wrath, one of sorrow, one of peace, and one of silent contemplation.
Its six arms now wielded six celestial weapons, forged from the very concept of ruin itself.
In his six arms, he wielded weapons long lost to history:
The Indranila Vajra—a spear crackling with divine thunder, rivaling the authority of Indra himself.
The Chandrakala Khanda—a curved sword infused with the celestial energy of the moon.
The Damru—the drum whose beats went with the flow of the cosmos.
The Chakra— glowing with divine light and the representatition of the cosmic order itself.
The Trident —a trident laced with destruction itself.
And the final—an empty, open palm.
A hand extended not to destroy, but to help.
Not just a warrior.
Not just a king.
Not just a mere demon or asura.
But something beyond classification.
The Primordial Asura Sovriegn had been born.
A being who embodied not just wrath—but divine balance.
A halo of blue flames burned behind its head—Shiva's flames.
Its eyes—no longer burning with mere rage or grief —now held wisdom.
Not just destruction, but the understanding of destruction.
And across its forehead—a mark.
A mark that had not been seen in ten thousand years.
A mark belonging to those once favored by the God of Gods himself.
And as the final embers of the transformation settled, Adrian felt it.
A presence.
A whisper.
A single thought, ancient and absolute.
"My child... Welcome back"
Above, Shiva closed his eyes once more.
As Adrian stood beneath the vision, his soul itself hummed in response
A new pathway has opened, the system said after a long silence.
[System Notification: Unique Evolution Triggered.]
[New Pathway Unlocked – 'Heir to the Forgotten Pantheon.']
And deep within the void—something else stirred.
Something that had been waiting for this moment for far, far too long.
To be continued....