The Guardian gods-Chapter 469

Krogan’s fingers tapped against his throne’s armrest. Once. Twice. The subtle sound sent an unmistakable warning through the room.

"Because the moment we force them, we will have already lost."

The room fell silent.

Krogan rose from his seat, his towering form casting a long shadow over his generals.

"We are still hidden. Forgotten. That is our greatest advantage. Do not throw it away for something as petty as pride."

The Elephant-headed general, Balogun, let out a deep rumble of agreement. "If we are exposed before we are ready, we will have the gods and their spawn at our gates before we have even begun."

The Dragon-headed general, ever the strategist, nodded slowly. "If they refuse, we leave. We offer once and once only. No threats. No ultimatums."

The Gorilla in the suit adjusted his golden cuffs and chuckled. "A simple proposition: join us, or remain as you are. The choice is theirs."

The serpent-eyed woman flicked her tongue, her voice smooth as silk. "And if they change their minds later?"

Krogan smirked. "Then they will come to us."

The Goat-headed general sighed, rubbing his horns. "Fine, fine. No fighting. No threats. We leave if they refuse."

Krogan gave a single nod, his authority absolute. "Good. Then go. Choose wisely."

He exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of his plans settle over him like a heavy mist. The second phase was already in motion, but his mind drifted to the final step—the true foundation of his power in this world.

If the second phase dragged on too long, he could turn his attention to the lesser magical creatures. Their numbers alone could accelerate his progress, but that course of action was far too reckless. The disappearance of so many creatures would not go unnoticed. The humans, the godlings, and even the gods themselves would start to ask questions.

No, the beast kings were the key. With them came entire domains—territories teeming with subordinates that would naturally fall under his rule. A single conquest would bring him hundreds, perhaps thousands of new followers. Two birds with one stone.

Satisfied with his reasoning, Krogan vanished from his throne, his figure melting into the shadows.

When he reappeared, he was back at the lake, his massive jaguar form stretching lazily as he sank onto the cool earth.

His golden eyes fluttered shut.

For now, all he had to do was wait and watch.

Meanwhile, down on the northern continent, much had changed within the Kingdom of Björn following the birth of their long-awaited prince. To the people of Björn, this birth was not just the arrival of an heir—it was the second coming of Björn himself, a reincarnation of the god-like warrior who had once led them. This belief reignited a deep, almost fanatical devotion within the kingdom, binding them even closer to their old ways while also solidifying their faith in their current ruler, Yuki.

With the birth of the prince, Yuki’s power and position soared to unprecedented heights. No longer merely the Queen, she became something more—an oracle, a divine authority whose words carried absolute weight. In the eyes of her people, her decisions were unquestionable, her vision infallible. What she declared became law, and none dared to challenge her. But Yuki was not blind to the dangers of absolute control; she understood that even the most devout followers could become disillusioned if change was forced upon them too abruptly.

Rather than abolishing the old ways, she wove them seamlessly into the new order she envisioned. She knew that suppressing the violent, battle-hardened nature of the Björn people would only lead to disaster. If denied their instincts, they would inevitably find an outlet elsewhere—through rebellion, bloodlust-driven riots, or self-destruction. Instead, she created structured outlets for their primal urges, introducing grand events and ceremonies where they could indulge in their natural inclinations without plunging the kingdom into chaos.

These events became sacred traditions, an opportunity for the people to release their deep-seated hunger for combat, revelry, and carnage in a controlled environment. Gladiatorial battles, ritual hunts, and brutal trials of strength became not only accepted but celebrated, reinforcing their warrior culture while preventing them from becoming mindless berserkers at the first sight of blood.

Over time, this tempered the people of Björn, honing their savagery into discipline. They no longer lost themselves to madness at the mere scent of violence, nor did they succumb to reckless bloodshed at every opportunity. Instead, they became warriors with sharpened instincts, capable of restraint yet always ready for battle should the time come. Under Yuki’s rule, Björn was not just a kingdom of war—it was a kingdom of refined chaos, where savagery and order coexisted in perfect, delicate balance.

Something Björn himself wanted to achieve but because of his devilish nature, it tilted more towards the side of Chaos more. freewebnøvel.com

At the moment, the young prince of Björn was not within the lush, battle-scarred lands of his homeland. Instead, he roamed the unforgiving terrain of the Endless Expanse of Ice, a frozen wasteland that stretched beyond the northernmost borders of the kingdom. Unlike many who feared the desolate, frigid landscape, he embraced it, considering it both a refuge and a proving ground. The savage creatures that lurked within the ice-covered abyss served as the perfect challenge to temper his hot-blooded nature, their relentless struggle for survival mirroring the very essence of Björn’s people.

Meanwhile, in the grand palace of Björn, Yuki sat in contemplative silence, her piercing gaze fixed upon the letter before her. The elegant script belonged to Nwadiebube, a figure of considerable influence in the eastern continent, and his words spoke of a desire to strengthen their alliance. A proposal that, under different circumstances, she might have welcomed.

She exhaled slowly, fingers drumming lightly against the polished surface of her desk. This was partially her own doing. Before she had encountered Björn in person, before she had become his woman, her ambitions had been her own. She had operated with sharp cunning, forging connections and weaving strategies that did not necessarily align with Björn’s greater vision. Establishing contact with Nwadiebube had been one of those plans, a carefully cultivated relationship meant to serve her own ends. She had even made promises—assurances that she would send a new priest to aid in rekindling faith on the eastern continent, along with a pledge of support in his impending war.

But all of that had unraveled the moment she pledged herself to Björn. His path had become her path, and in following him, her previous goals had been rendered meaningless. The idea of sending a priest to the east—to spread faith, to solidify alliances—now stood in direct opposition to what Björn desired at this moment.

And it seemed Nwadiebube had noticed.

Subtle yet deliberate, She had begun withdrawing the priests who had already ventured forth, slowly dismantling the fragile web of influence that had once extended into the distant lands. The spread of Björn’s faith beyond the northern continent was quietly fading, its momentum stalled by unspoken resistance. Whether this was a calculated move or merely an act of self-preservation, Yuki did not mind as it made her job easier for her.

Still, the message in his letter was clear—he sought reaffirmation, a sign that their alliance had not been forsaken.

Yuki’s lips curled into a smirk, though there was no humor in it.

What will you do, Nwadiebube?

Would he press forward, seeking to secure her favor? Or would he step back entirely, choosing instead to chart his own course? Either way, Yuki knew one thing for certain—she would not act without Björn’s will in mind.

Her plans had changed. And if Nwadiebube wished to remain in her good graces, he would have to understand that.

Placing the letter aside, Yuki’s gaze drifted toward the large map sprawled before her. Her eyes fixated on a particular mark—a large circle denoting the territory of the Silver Kingdom. For days now, her instincts had been unsettled, and as she studied the map, she could not ignore the growing unease stirring within her.

There had been unusual movements from the King of the Silver Kingdom. Subtle at first, but unmistakable to those who knew how to watch. More patrols along their borders, a quiet but steady shift in supply lines, and the sudden recall of key military figures back to their capital. But beyond strategy and logic, there was something more primal—a scent that lingered in the air.

Blood and iron.

It was unmistakable, a harbinger that every soul of Björn could recognize without fail. The scent of war.

Yuki exhaled slowly, allowing herself to sink into her instincts. She knew better than to ignore them. If war was coming, she would not sit idle and wait for it to arrive at her doorstep. She had already begun preparations, reinforcing key positions and ensuring that Björn’s warriors remained in peak condition.

Fortunately, the current state of the Björn Kingdom worked in her favor. Unlike other nations that stretched their forces thin to maintain peace and control distant lands, Björn’s forces did not need to be spread out. The kingdom’s warriors were the land itself—every village, every town held blooded warriors ready to answer the call. The people of Björn did not merely live in their lands; they ruled it, bound by an unshakable unity and an insatiable hunger for battle.