A few days later...
The Crimson Heaven.
The colossal mountain standing at the center of the realm had fully taken shape—its height now several times greater than when it first formed.
Its immense structure was hollow by design.
Countless layers of rock and soil had been reforged into perfect supporting columns, ensuring absolute structural stability.
Dozens of newly-formed pocket dimensions had also been forcibly embedded into the mountain by Orsaga—serving both as gladiatorial arenas and as dwellings for his inhabitants.
At the very summit stood a vast, complex palace—an architectural marvel so immense that even the words "grand" and "majestic" fell woefully short of describing it.
The palace was planet-sized.
Just the thickness of its walls stretched dozens of kilometers. Blood-red Flowers of Deathblossom bloomed across its surface like creeping ivy, their misty, crimson aura cloaking the structure in a veil of eerie, dreamlike beauty.
Directly in front of the palace was a spring, continuously gushing blood-red water.
The liquid flowed through six distinct openings, feeding deep into the mountain's interior. There, the streams branched repeatedly—multiplying by six each time—until they spread through the entire structure.
Eventually, these countless tributaries would flow out from the mountain's base, forming rivers that spread across the land before finally draining into the surrounding Sea of Blood.
As for the pathway from the base of the mountain to its summit, Orsaga had constructed it entirely from radiant, multicolored crystals.
Every 666 steps, the path paused at a trial ground.
Each of these platforms housed a Gatekeeper.
Only those who could defeat the Gatekeeper's challenge were allowed to proceed.
Should someone manage to pass all the trials and reach the palace at the summit, they would be granted a single wish by Orsaga himself—a reward for their achievement.
To the outside world, this setup might resemble a myth or divine legend...
But in truth, it was simply one of Orsaga's indulgent whims. A bit of theatrical flair—nothing more.
Still, climbing the full path required passing through 666,666 trials.
The difficulty of such a feat? Absolutely brutal—cruel beyond measure.
As for why Orsaga used the number 6 so heavily?
It wasn't some kind of obsessive compulsion or superstition.
Just as every region has its own customs and taboos, every universe has its own set of divine laws.
Now that Orsaga had successfully gained dual citizenship—as both an outsider and a local God. He could no longer behave like a rogue tourist, ignoring all the rules.
He had to play by the local rules, especially those concerning the Chaos Gods.
One such rule: Chaos Gods are forbidden from descending directly into the physical universe.
At most, they can send projections or avatars. Never their true form.
Another rule: Every Chaos God has a Sacred Number.
These are numbers such as 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7…
In this realm, a Sacred Number is a divine concept—a metaphysical extension of the Chaos God it represents.
For example, the number 9 represents Tzeentch.
Whenever someone speaks, thinks, or writes anything related to the number 9, Tzeentch can immediately become aware of the details—and even exert influence over them remotely.
Likewise:
Sacred Number 7 — Nurgle
Sacred Number 8 — Khorne
Sacred Number 9 — Tzeentch
Sacred Number 6 — Orsaga
These are the four current Sacred Numbers.
According to Orsaga's perception, the number 6 originally belonged to another, yet-to-be-born Chaos God.
But since that god hadn't fully emerged yet, Orsaga simply cut in line and claimed the number for himself.
To that, all Orsaga could say was: "666666—close enough."
As for the unborn Chaos God?
All four existing gods were very much hoping to eliminate him—after all, the metaphorical table was already full with four players. A fifth would just be unnecessary.
Unfortunately, the timeline of this realm was deeply distorted, and such interference was impossible.
The birth of the fifth Chaos God was a foregone conclusion.
Even though the four were fully aware of when and why he would be born, they couldn't stop it.
Because that future had already happened.
The emergence of a god was now a fact.
Even destroying the catalyst for his birth wouldn't prevent it—in fact, such actions would only cause more chaos and paradoxes, ensuring his arrival.
"The Fifth Chaos God—The Prince of Pleasure, Slaanesh,"
Holder of the twin divine aspects: God of Lust and Indulgence; God of Love and Beauty.
His birth was still over twenty thousand years away…
But every Chaos God knew it was inevitable.
To other gods and mortals, it remained a mystery. They might sense something strange… but never grasp the truth.
Only the Chaos Gods, who transcended time itself—stretching across past, present, and future—could perceive the certainty of what was to come.
At the peak of the mountain, inside the vast, empty palace—
Orsaga sat lazily on his throne, fashioned from countless intertwined Flowers of Deathblossom.
With one leg casually crossed over the other, he began contemplating his next moves.
The more one knows, the more one must plan.
Having gained dual divinity and seen so many of this world's secrets, Orsaga now needed to figure out how to seize greater opportunities for himself.
But... easier said than done.
To the others, Orsaga was a foreign variable—a Chaos God who had suddenly emerged, unaccounted for in the original timeline.
Even if the other three were total morons, they'd still be suspicious of him.
Every move he made was under scrutiny.
Planning anything substantial would be extremely difficult.
If he had to guess, the other three Chaos Gods were probably huddled together at this very moment, plotting his downfall.
And the one leading that discussion?
Undoubtedly Tzeentch, the Lord of Change—master of manipulation, alliances, deception, and backstabbing.
As for the fat green slob Nurgle, whose motto was basically "why stand when you can sit"—
He'd be too lazy to do anything.
That left Khorne, who already had personal beef with Orsaga, as the most likely to team up with Tzeentch.
So on the surface, it looked like a two-versus-one situation.
But the reality was a bit more complicated.
As everyone knows, schemers like Tzeentch prefer to stay in the shadows.
The idea of him charging into battle himself? A complete joke.
So, despite all the noise, the one who'd likely face Orsaga head-on would still be Khorne, the bloodthirsty brute with zero impulse control.
As for Tzeentch?
He'd probably just poke from the sidelines, offering "strategic suggestions" and minor magical interference.
Expecting him to fight directly?
Nearly impossible.
Even though Tzeentch's actual power might rival—or even exceed—Khorne's, direct confrontation simply wasn't his field.
He had his specialty.
And brawling wasn't it.
_____
T/N:
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