Kartora… was that jealousy?

Daniel blinked in surprise, his expression turning subtly strange.

Was this truly the demeanor of a Fake God? The pout, the faint tension in her tone—it was almost… human.

The corner of his mouth twitched. For a fleeting second, he wondered if his Psychic Perception was malfunctioning.

But then, as his awareness brushed across her emotions more carefully, he realized something that made him pause.

Wait a second… this wasn't the kind of jealousy he first imagined.

Kartora wasn't jealous of Isabella being with him—she was jealous of him being with Isabella!

So, in a way…

"She's actually jealous of me?"

Daniel didn't know whether to laugh or sigh.

For the first time in a while, he felt a strange and indescribable sensation—a mixture of disbelief and mild embarrassment.

It was almost like realizing that he had completely misread the emotional script.

He shook his head, brushing the thought aside. There were more pressing matters to consider—things far more dangerous than his misunderstanding of Kartora's jealousy.

Specifically—Isabella's power.

Even now, the lingering traces of her influence were terrifying.

For someone of Kartora's level—a Fake God, a being whose will could withstand temporal storms—to have been even slightly swayed by that woman's charm… that was more than alarming.

And this was after Daniel had deliberately shielded her with several layers of psychic protection.

He could only imagine how devastating Isabella's power would be if left unchecked.

I need to be even more careful around her next time, he thought grimly. Even a brief lapse could cause irreversible consequences.

"Alright," he said at last, turning his attention back to Kartora. "It's time to move."

Without waiting for a response, Daniel placed a firm arm around her waist and invoked Flashback.

A ripple of silvery light folded over them, and in the next heartbeat, their forms vanished—

—reappearing inside the vast, twisting passage of the Temporal Gateway.

They were once again within the time-space tunnel, where the light of eternity curved endlessly around them.

In truth, during that one hour Daniel spent accompanying Isabella, his true body had been preoccupied.

But his numerous clones had not been idle at all.

Each clone had a clear and methodical purpose: to collect the remains—the fragmented souls and bodies—of the Fake Gods they had just defeated.

Such things were valuable currency, and Daniel would never waste resources of this magnitude.

Among those spoils, one particular item stood out: a Demigod-rank soul.

That soul now belonged to Daniel, fully secured within his domain.

However, acquiring it hadn't been entirely smooth.

A Demigod soul, while powerful, wasn't in itself difficult for Daniel to control. The real issue lay in the mark it bore—an imprint of Isabella's power.

Even after using purification magic several times, faint traces of her influence persisted.

So Daniel came up with a meticulous plan.

He would bombard the soul with hundreds—perhaps even thousands—of cleansing spells. He had the energy, the patience, and the will to do it.

Only once he was absolutely sure that not even a molecule of her energy remained would he begin refining it into usable currency material.

After all, the last thing he wanted was some hidden remnant of Isabella sneaking into his treasury.

And besides—he had plenty of time.

After about an hour of work, his collection had grown staggering: nearly five hundred thousand Fake God souls.

The eventual conversion into material currency would bring him immense returns—more than enough to fund his next leap forward.

Still, Daniel wasn't in any rush.

He planned to hold onto these resources until after his next advancement.

After each evolution, the quality of materials he could exchange using currency would rise proportionally—meaning his future trades would yield far more valuable results.

In other words, patience was profit.

The shimmering tunnel of time flowed endlessly around them.

Daniel and Kartora walked side by side, the translucent light of the corridor reflecting across their faces.

As they traveled, Kartora began to speak softly.

"Lord Crossbridge," she said, her voice calm but laced with emotion, "you might not know this—but Kalbira told me many things."

Daniel glanced sideways at her but said nothing, allowing her to continue.

"I think… after hearing her story, I finally understand her," Kartora murmured. "In those long, lonely years, if I were in her place, I might have made the same choices."

Her tone trembled slightly. "I'm sorry. The truth is, I'm a selfish person. I don't want to die. I want to become the god of time… I want eternity—and… I want to live that eternity with you."

Her words hung in the air, tender and hesitant, as though afraid of rejection.

She had lowered her voice, but Daniel's heightened perception caught every word clearly.

He didn't respond immediately. The silence stretched between them—not awkward, but heavy with understanding.

At last, Kartora broke the stillness again.

"Lord Crossbridge," she whispered, "I don't want to be Aurelia's enemy. But at the same time, I can't rescue Laeve… and more than that—I don't want to fight against you."

Her eyes shimmered faintly, a reflection of the flowing time streams around them.

"I just… I truly don't know what to do."

Daniel nodded quietly, reaching out to hold her trembling shoulders.

"Honestly," he said softly, "I'm just as afraid of dying as you are."

"All the things I'm doing now—the wars, the experiments, the plans—they all serve one purpose: to survive safely. To live."

"We're both the same in that regard. We fight, we struggle, we plan—all for life. So there's no need to blame yourself."

It was a simple truth. For every being in the universe, the instinct to survive was absolute.

Whether a mortal or a god, the fear of annihilation lingered in the deepest corners of consciousness.

Daniel, for all his vast power, was no exception.

Kartora looked at him for a long moment. Then she nodded, her expression softening.

"…Thank you."

After a pause, she added, "As for Aurelia, I'll find a time to speak with her properly. I need to understand what she's truly thinking—and what she plans to do next."

They continued onward through the vast temporal corridor, step by step, as the tunnel's flow accelerated.

The return journey became faster and faster—

and in just a few short months, they had traversed millions of years of time.

During that period, Daniel frequently activated the Clock of Fate, using it to observe Kartora's own threads of destiny.

The patterns he found were startlingly similar to Kalbira's.

Just like her, Kartora was also destined to participate in a great God Rank Skill project—specifically, the synthesis of [Fate].

The difference was that in Kartora's case, the description was far more detailed and explicit.

Both she and Kalbira would eventually step into the River of Time itself.

However, Daniel wasn't entirely sure whether the "River of Time" mentioned by the Clock of Fate was the same one he had seen during his own Time Stream experiments—or whether they referred to two separate phenomena altogether.

He frowned slightly, lost in thought.

Not enough data, he concluded. I'll need more observations before I can tell.

As for Kartora's final fate—it was the same as Kalbira's.

In the end, they would merge into one being.

Their destinies were essentially identical—reflections of each other along the temporal continuum.

Unfortunately, the Clock of Fate only revealed five predetermined fates per individual. Beyond that, it was blind.

So even Daniel couldn't see what lay beyond their eventual fusion.

He exhaled quietly.

Sometimes, the ending didn't matter as much as the process itself.

In many cases, it was the journey—the choices and moments in between—that shaped existence far more profoundly than any final outcome.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder—what if he tried to interfere?

What would happen if he reached out and twisted the threads of fate himself?

His eyes narrowed, his mind already weaving through countless layers of Mental Deduction.

Every possibility branched like lightning across his consciousness, each leading toward uncertain horizons.

Meanwhile, far away in the Highmount Castle,

a towering figure stood upon the ancient battlements.

Odin—his frame broad and unyielding—extended one massive arm, gently lifting a small blond boy and placing him atop his shoulder.

"Osman," he said in a deep, resonant voice, "you must grow up quickly."

"Only by becoming stronger—fast—can you protect our people."

"Protect humanity. Protect them, always."

The boy, Osman, waved his tiny arms enthusiastically, his sapphire-blue eyes shining with innocent determination.

At that moment, a shadow flashed across the courtyard—a figure materialized soundlessly before them.

"Sister Alice!" Osman called out cheerfully, waving. "It's been so long!"

Alice smiled faintly at the boy's greeting, but her expression was serious as she turned to Odin.

The old warrior gently set Osman back down and met her gaze squarely.

"Alice," he asked in a low, steady tone, "what's happened?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.