Chapter 436
From the shadows of the deep, his divine realm took form—a place of infinite waters, where grand cities of coral and pearl rested beneath waves of liquid silver. The Everflowing Treasury was not merely a vault; it was a kingdom where wealth moved like the tides, where golden rivers flowed, and where the souls of those who sought fortune in life now drifted, ever entwined with the fate they had chosen.
Ships of spectral merchants sailed these waters, forever trading, forever seeking the right moment to grasp opportunity before it slipped away. The sky above shimmered, reflecting the wealth below, yet never revealing its full depth.
And at the heart of it all sat his throne, hovering over the boundless expanse of the Everflowing Treasury. From there, he would watch, guide, and shape the fate of those who sought fortune—or ruin.
Descending to the depths of the Flowua side, her rune pillar guided her toward the place where her father once clashed with his counterpart. The scars of their battle still lingered, though time and the relentless tides had worked to erase them. The vast chasm her father had carved into the ocean floor had long since been filled, yet a haunting emptiness remained. No sea creatures had returned, as if they still feared the lingering echoes of divine wrath.
Something had changed in this part of the ocean. The currents no longer flowed naturally—they were turbulent, chaotic, as if the sea itself rejected anything that dared approach. The very water seemed to rebel, its motion not a simple current but a forceful rejection, pushing away all intruders with an almost sentient will.
Flowua felt the pushback and smiled. It had been a long time since the sea itself had resisted her. Unlike other demigods who commanded a personalized domain—territories molded to their will—Flowua had none. Her power was not confined to a single realm but extended as far as her endurance allowed.
At the stage where most demigods sought to comprehend and manifest a domain, Flowua had done something different—she had shattered that limitation. Her understanding of water was not about control but about movement, about the ceaseless flow of existence itself. She had always disliked how the ocean, the very thing she belonged to, created resistance against her. And so, she had overcome it.
She comprehended fluid friction, not as a hindrance but as a force to erase. Her power negated resistance, rendering her movement unimpeded. In water, she moved as if no currents opposed her; on land, the very air parted before her, allowing her to traverse with unnatural speed. She had become one of the fastest beings in existence, untethered by the limitations of friction.
Now, as she faced the sea’s defiance, she responded in kind. Her power extended, crashing against the ocean’s unnatural turbulence, dissolving its resistance as she took her first step forward. But the moment she did, the opposition grew stronger—far beyond anything the sea itself could produce.