The gods of the world have convened a meeting regarding the rampaging beast that threatens to destroy humanity. In the realm of the gods—in the main hall of the oldest deity, Wu Ron—the leader of the gods, Merdron (also revered as the Lord of the Skies and the King of the Gods), ascended his throne. He began,
"The matter of this rampaging beast is one with which we must intervene, for humans are incapable of controlling her—a force born of the curse of the demon god, against which even magic proves futile. Only we, the divine gods, hold the power to harm her. Yet, I do not desire her death, for she is the victim of a conspiracy. Remember, though she may be cursed, she is still human. I have summoned you all to deliberate and arrive at a decision that is both just and favorable for all. Please, share your thoughts."
Blikin, the God of War, was the first to speak. "My lord, this matter need not be made unduly complicated. We can simply end her life, and thereby conclude the issue. I am aware you regard me as lacking subtlety, yet this problem demands nothing less than a decisive strike—a slash of the sword, and it will all be over. I volunteer to descend and dispatch that beast, delivering a swift and painless death as tribute to the warfare that fuels my might, so that she may never know her end."
Half-asleep, cradling a large teddy bear, Lazara, the Goddess of Laziness, struck him lightly with her slipper as she retorted, "You are such a meanie—that is precisely why you have no friends. She is the very first human who augmented your power in a century. Instead of advocating her death, you ought to suggest a means by which she might be saved. You are, frankly, a dumb, meanie."
Enraged, Blikin rose to his feet. "Why are you even invited to a serious meeting? You ought to return to your dwelling—reposing as you always do. Depart before I skin you alive, you idle swine! How dare you insult the most dreaded God of War? I believe you have now seen enough of your own insignificance." With that, he manifested his favored weapon—a spear renowned for its unerring accuracy—and prepared to hurl it at her.
Lazara yawned languidly before opening her eyes and releasing a shimmering aura as she laughed, "You seem to have forgotten that I am the strongest here, with the most followers of any. Do not underestimate me." Blikin felt a chill run down his spine. He reluctantly recalled his spear, still seething with anger, and then turned his gaze to the King. "You endow this child with far too much arrogance—punish her for having insulted me, my king!"
Merdron's temper flared as he bellowed, "Enough! Must I punish you both for your insolence? Apologize to one another immediately, or I will condemn you both to one hundred years of demon hunting!" Stung by his threat, they both offered perfunctory apologies. The debate continued, various opinions debated, until a vote ended in a tie. It was then decreed that any gods volunteering might act as they saw fit with regard to her fate.
Dargor, the God of Dungeons, interjected with a plea, "Let her live, so that I may transform her into a dungeon queen—her dungeon serving as a prison, holding her captive until the Demon Goddess herself arrives to release her. We must act swiftly! The longer her beastly form wreaks havoc, the more power it will accumulate, reviving her curse. I fear the outcome will be bloody. Humanity will not be safe if she is allowed to continue, and she may eventually rise against us for all she has endured. She already harbors deep hatred for us owing to her punishment and the traumatizing events that scarred her. She will never forgive our indifference." All present deities nodded in unison, acknowledging that this was the most viable solution.
Merdron then selected three deities for this critical task: Dargor, Blikin, and Illurion, the God of Illusions. He hoped that their combined might would be sufficient to awaken the mind of the maiden trapped within the beast.
The world was plunged into an era of utter destruction as the rampaging beast advanced unchecked. City after city fell before her might; humanity's efforts to resist were futile. As the curse reached fifty percent, it unleashed a demonic aura that summoned infernal creatures at her command. Her very soul, imprisoned within the monstrous frame, writhed against the binding demonic magic, forcing her to bear witness as her own body razed entire cities and extinguished the lives of millions. The dying cries of the fallen begged the gods for vengeance, and some souls transformed into malignant spirits, unable to transition to the afterlife due to the oppressive demonic energy. The land itself resonated with agony and grief.
Main Character's POV:
Opening my eyes, I found myself locked in an internal battle for control of my body. My consciousness had managed to prevail—albeit for a fleeting moment—yet my head pounded as if split in two. I began regaining awareness, only to behold hordes of monsters and beasts before me. Some were ancient and fearsome with revolting features that made it difficult to look away; others were diminutive, as if my body towered over them. In the distance, ruined cities lay strewn with bones, and ghostly figures wailed in dark corners, desperate for salvation. The scorched earth, the dragons circling the skies and reducing entire cities to ashes, and the cacophony of anguished screams overwhelmed me. I attempted to halt the dragons, but my hands disobeyed my commands. Every effort I made was thwarted as the monstrous force within me commanded destruction. Faint cries, the sounds of tearing flesh, and the relentless rush of blood filled the air as terror spread across the horizon. Whenever I reached out to rescue a victim, my own body betrayed me, maiming instead of healing. Each attempt to communicate was met with a terrible roar that ordered the other beasts to slay in unison. As I slowly closed my eyes, a single thought echoed in my mind: "When will this endless torment end?"
Story Continuation:
As the curse reached sixty percent, the gods observed a mysterious region where the carnage—bodies and souls alike—vanished. Darkness radiated from this area, and the sky turned a deep, ominous red. Here, the fabled crimson flower manifested and gradually withered; its petals seemed drawn into an abyss that absorbed all light and life. The gods decided to dispatch Blikin and Lazara to address the anomaly, while Dargor prepared an intricate dungeon designed to contain both her and her monstrous minions. Meanwhile, Umbriel, the God of the Underworld, vowed to recover the soul of her beloved, hoping to quell her rage. On that day, the moons burned fully red, steeped in the blood of the innocent, as the gods descended upon the human realm. When the mortals beheld the radiant, divine light, they prayed desperately for salvation.
As the curse escalated to eighty percent, the world descended into chaos, its devastation laid bare for all to see. Blikin turned to Lazara, urgency in his tone, "We have little time—the curse nears its completion. If we do not act now, humanity will cease to exist." Lazara replied coolly, "Wait but a little longer—I have a plan." Blikin sneered, "Is that so? The goddess of laziness, famed for her indolence, will suddenly devise a plan to save humanity? I shall handle it my way!" Consumed by wrath, he accelerated his descent into the human realm, summoning his great sword. With a mighty swing, a shockwave tore through the air, as if even the stars were rent asunder. Yet, in the final moments—when the curse reached one hundred percent—a dark, spectral hand emerged from the void, intercepting his devastating blow. Cursing, Blikin bellowed, "We are too late!" He looked upward in disbelief to find Lazara, still slumbering soundly and clutching her beloved teddy bear.
The scene then shifted to an isolated expanse, where a mysterious figure emerged from a shifting anomaly. Clasping a crimson rose, this figure erected a vast barrier that enveloped the entire planet. It was unmistakably Ferina, the goddess of the Beasts—corrupt, formidable, and unyielding. She appeared at the very site of the rampage, gently cradling the vanquished creature, thanking it for ushering her back from the brink of oblivion, before absorbing its essence. As her words of gratitude faded into the void, her gaze swept over the approaching gods. Rising into the heavens, she extended her palm menacingly in their direction.
In response, the descending gods steeled themselves. Blikin readied his sword for a decisive strike, while Lazara materialized her own weapon. With measured resolve, Lazara warned, "Next time, it will be your problem." The scene then turned to the bleak dominion of the corrupt beast goddess. Deep within her consciousness, the tormented maiden—bound by shimmering chains—struggled in vain. As the corrupted goddess advanced, the anguished maiden cried out, "Let me go! You monster—you made me do unspeakable things, acts I would never have imagined in a million years!" In a cold, measured tone, the grim goddess finally spoke: "I did not come to you; you came to me. Moreover, it was humanity that conceived of your curse. Had you been more vigilant, you would have sensed it long before receiving the crimson flower. I played no role in the charade you lowly humans devised—you awoke me, and now I remember my purpose. Remain in chains and endure the spectacle."
The scene then shifted once more to the impending confrontation between the corrupt goddess and the assembled gods. With a chilling smile and dark eyes ablaze, Ferina declared once again, "This will be an interesting battle."