Chapter 525: The Game of Fate
The elder watched him silently. She wasn’t sure if before her sat merely a boy or someone far older, far more cunning.
"The three deities," she continued, "do not act recklessly, even in their eternal power. They select the ruler of the Heavenly Court themselves—a being of immense authority and unparalleled insight. This chosen one is granted the title... The Overseer of Fates."
Julian’s eyes widened at the words. The title alone carried the gravity of eons.
"The Overseer of Fates is not merely a judge. He is the anchor of the cosmos. Every decision of the deities, every clash of Creation and Destruction, and every act of Preservation flows through him. His gaze touches all lives, mortal or divine. He maintains the complex web of destinies, ensuring that balance persists."
She let her words hang for a moment, letting the enormity of the concept sink in. The idea that a mortal—or something resembling one—could wield power over gods, over destiny itself, was staggering.
Julian felt as if his entire world had shattered. His ego, once towering and untouchable, started to dim. His pride, so carefully cultivated over years, seemed trivial, almost childish. For the first time, he saw the scale of everything beyond himself, beyond the petty power he had always taken for granted.
Until now, his life had been effortless. Being born as the son of a duke gave him privileges most could only dream of. His unexpected connection to the royal family of the Ares Kingdom had been a divine blessing, a twist of fate that had placed him miles ahead of others.
He had done everything he ever wanted and taken everything he ever desired—women, power, and influence—as if the world itself owed them to him.
And yet now... sitting in this dimly lit room, listening to the elder speak of deities, of the Heavenly Court, of the Overseer of Fates, Julian realized how meaningless all that had been. His past victories, his conquests, even the lustful pleasure he had relished in—they were just an insignificant thread in a web far grander than he had ever imagined.
And somehow, the weight of the revelation only served to ignite something inside him. His heart surged, burning with a mix of fear, awe, and excitement. Blood rushed through his veins as though the world had infused him with new life.
He was small in the face of Heaven, but for the first time, he truly felt alive.
"Go on, elder," he urged, his eyes lighting up with a newfound intensity. "This is only getting interesting."
The elder gave a faint nod. "Very well," she said, leaning back on the chair.
"This is, in essence, how the heavens maintain their balance and all of existence. It is no longer just the supreme beings who maintain order. Alongside them operate the Heavenly Court and the guardian families, ensuring that neither Creation, Preservation, nor Destruction exceeds its bounds."
She paused, then continued. "If, for instance, Creation were to threaten the balance, spreading life without care, overwhelming the mortal realm—Preservation and Destruction would act swiftly with the guardian families. Through the Heavenly Court, judgment would be given and corrective measures would be ordered. Every act, every decision, every interference—even those of the supreme deities—must pass through this system."
Julian’s eyes narrowed, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Interesting... so it’s not just power that governs the cosmos..."
The elder’s lips twitched faintly, though her expression remained serious. "Yes. Everyone is held accountable. It is why the system endures, why balance is maintained, and why chaos is always contained—until someone clever enough finds a way to manipulate it."
A slow smirk curved across Julian’s lips. "And this clever person... would be our Patriarch himself, wouldn’t it?"
The elder’s shoulders sank. She gave a long, weary sigh, then finally nodded. "Yes... you are not wrong. Our family was once known across the heavens as the House of Seraphel."
Her tone grew heavier, reverent yet edged with bitterness. "We were the gatekeepers of a million worlds. Every passage between these realms, every connection—our family held the keys. No soul entered or left the cycle of existence without passing through us. Though we were not as mighty as the three guardian families, our authority was undeniable. The Seraphel ruled over vast dominions, a portion of the Heavens itself... and with that power came arrogance."
Her gaze dropped, shadows of shame flickering in her eyes. "The Patriarch was a genius beyond compare, a man who believed no rule could bind him. He learned the Court’s language, twisted its decrees, and played the three deities against one another without ever openly defying them. He made our house untouchable, and for a time... it seemed as though Seraphel might rise to stand beside the guardian families themselves."
Julian raised a brow, his eyes glimmering with fascination. "Impressive," he murmured, almost to himself. "He played the gods against one another... like pawns."
"Yes," the elder replied, her voice hushed. "But..." Her words trailed, and for a moment she simply stared past him, as though seeing an age long buried in dust and ash. Finally, she exhaled. "Then came the downfall."
Julian tilted his head, watching her closely.
"You know how it is," she continued. "Everything is balanced. No matter how cunning one may be, no matter how blessed or powerful... all must move in accordance with Fate. It is the single thread that not even gods can sever. To defy it is to court destruction."
Her eyes, heavy and trembling, locked onto his. "And the Patriarch did exactly that. He reached too far, seeking to overturn what was written, to break the cycle itself. And for such audacity... Fate demanded a price. When one attempts to outwit destiny, there is only one end. Collapse. Ruin. Curse."
"Hm," Julian murmured, the smirk never leaving his lips. "A man who challenged Fate itself. Now that... is an interesting character. Not just anyone would even think of standing against the absolute."
He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes gleaming with an almost childlike fascination that was rare for him.
"So then... How did Fate ruin him? Was it through imprisonment?" His voice dipped lower. "Or death?"