Chapter 187: "The Sun Summoner's Plea"
Derek leaned in close to Tessa, his voice barely a whisper but laced with desperation. "I know he's a handful. If you can help me kill him, I'll be eternally grateful!"
For a moment, Tessa stared at him, her face blank, as if she hadn't quite processed what he just said. Derek, however, wore a mask of solemnity so absurdly sincere it bordered on comical.
Did he really think she of all people would entertain his deranged pitch for patricide? She adjusted her stance, deliberately not responding, and focused on the Sun Temple representative, Dzek, who was preparing to speak.
But Derek wasn't done. He leaned closer again, this time his eyes darting nervously toward the other princes. "He's ruining my life. Don't you see it? I know he is a lesser god, but you're special, I can tell, maybe you're even a stronger lesser god, who knows? One strike from you—poof! Problem solved. I'll even throw in a kingdom-wide holiday in your honor."
Tessa blinked, her patience thinning like ice under a blazing sun. "Derek," she said finally, her tone flat. "If you keep talking, I might just kill you."
Derek stepped back with an exaggerated bow. "Fair point. But the offer stands."
Meanwhile, the other princes watched the exchange with thinly veiled curiosity. They weren't close to Derek—not out of genuine dislike, but because the late Prince Kuril's overbearing influence had ensured Derek's isolation for years. Even now, breaking through that invisible barrier felt… unnatural.
Dzek, oblivious to Derek's melodrama, stood at the center of the temple platform with every eye in the room on him. His stoic demeanor faltered slightly as he looked at Tessa. He didn't know the full story of what had transpired, but it was clear Tessa had killed, though perhaps not in the savage way King Rhopgin suggested. Still, the situation called for divine intervention.
With a deep breath, Dzek raised his hands. His eyes glazed over with an eerie white sheen, his body trembling as if a powerful current surged through him. Then, a guttural, ancient language poured from his lips, a chant so resonant it seemed to reverberate through the air itself.
The crowd gasped as the sky darkened unnaturally, the sun shifting subtly, as though responding to a celestial summons.
The Ancient Chant:
"Zva Tzava, Vatz Ztava, Zavata Vazzt Tazava Zva!"
(Lord Solaris, we summon your presence, hear our call that echoes through the veil of time.)
"Vazta Zavta, Tava Zav, Tzavata Vatz Zavta Zavava Zvat!"
(We need you to come in power, descending with might, to attend to our summon and light the darkness.)
"Tzava Zavz, Zva Vatzava, Tzavatta Vatz Zava Zavva Tzata Zavz!"
(We your subjects, humbled and unworthy, dare to call upon your name, for the earth quakes in your absence.)
"Vatta Zav, Tzava Vzt, Zavva Tza Zavta Tzat Zavva Ztava Vzavat Zva!"
(But we need your help, oh mighty one, for our burdens are great, and we beg you to heed our cries from below.)
Dzek's body convulsed as the chant grew louder, the sun's light bending and pulsing in response. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Even Derek, usually unfazed by temple theatrics, had to admit it was… impressive.
He leaned toward Tessa again, whispering with mock reverence. "Do you think Solaris takes bribes? Asking for a friend."
Tessa didn't even look at him this time. "Derek," she muttered, her voice a dangerous calm, "keep talking and I'll offer you to Solaris as a sacrifice."
Derek wisely fell silent.
Suddenly...
The sun above split without warning, and the heavens seemed to gasp in unison. One half of the sun stayed suspended in the sky, while the other hurtled downward, trailing a blinding golden blaze. It roared like a fiery storm as it descended, and the ground trembled beneath its imminent arrival.
The heat was suffocating. It seared the air, forcing the crowd to retreat, shielding their faces and eyes from the radiance that felt as though it could peel flesh from bone.
"What in the world is this?" King Rhopgin stammered, his usual composure shattered. His voice trembled under the weight of what he was witnessing. He, a king who had seen countless wars and had stood against unimaginable foes, now felt an unfamiliar chill of fear grip him. This was beyond his realm of understanding.
It was Solaris—the Sun God.
The lesser gods whispered of him in hushed tones, for even among the pantheon, his power was second only to the forbidden gods. Those like King Rhopgin, whose faith aligned with the lesser deities, could not begin to comprehend the sheer magnitude of Solaris' being.
Tessa, however, stood frozen amidst the chaos. As others recoiled, she felt the pull—a deep, unexplainable connection to the fiery presence. The closer the blazing orb came, the more the pull intensified, like a string tied directly to her soul, drawing taut.
The sun-like orb loomed closer, its size expanding with each passing moment until it eclipsed the temple's grand entrance. Then, just as the unbearable intensity threatened to ignite the very ground, the heat dissipated. The blinding light dimmed.
Silence fell like a thunderclap.
The glowing sphere touched down, and before the stunned witnesses, it began to shift.
First, there were legs—brilliantly radiant, like molten gold molded into perfection. They shimmered with an almost unbearable beauty. The legs extended upward into a torso, broad and otherworldly, sculpted with an ethereal symmetry that no mortal could achieve.
Then came the arms, long and powerful, etched with veins of light. The chest, glowing faintly, seemed to pulse with the rhythm of a second sun.
As the transformation progressed, the onlookers felt both awe and dread. The being's sheer presence pressed down on their spirits, forcing many to their knees. Even the strongest among them dared not lift their eyes to meet the celestial form.
Finally, the shoulders emerged, followed by a neck as regal as a pillar of fire. Then came the head.
Golden hair flowed like liquid sunlight, gleaming with a life of its own as though it carried the whispers of ancient stars. Blazing red eyes opened, their gaze piercing and unrelenting. Those eyes didn't merely see—they judged, weighed, and bore down upon the soul.
The being that stood before them defied comprehension. It was beauty, power, and wrath, all blended into a singular, radiant form. It was Solaris.
The crowd trembled, paralyzed by the god's otherworldly magnificence. This was no lesser deity, no spirit to appease with mere offerings. This was the Sun God, a being summoned so rarely that most mortals only knew his presence through myth and cautionary tales.
Dzek, the summoner, stood with fists clenched at his sides. He dared not bow; he dared not look away. He had gambled everything on this moment. Summoning Solaris was no trivial act. A god of his stature did not tolerate frivolity.
Solaris is rarely summoned and when he comes, you better have a strong reason for summoning him or else both the summoner and witnesses may be left behind as corpses.
This was the reason Dzek had to think deeply before he summoned Solaris. A claim of parenthood might be a big enough reason, he felt. The hard part was if Solaris judges it to be a big enough reason or otherwise.