Night pressed in, silent and absolute. In his room, Tenra sat alone at his desk, pen scratching across thick parchment. Every now and then he paused, rubbing his brow, lost in thought—then wrote on, undeterred.
"Lord Tenra?"
Yubelluna's voice drifted through the hush. She appeared at his side in a silk nightgown, her curiosity and concern clear in her eyes. "You're still awake?"
Tenra smiled, pulling her gently onto his lap. "Not tired yet, Yubelluna?"
A blush bloomed on her cheeks as she glanced at Tosca and Raynare, both sprawled across the bed in exhausted slumber. Yubelluna's own body ached with fatigue, but she nestled into Tenra's arms, unable to resist.
She caught sight of the thick tome on his desk. "What are you writing, Lord Tenra?"
He let his lips curl in a sly smile. "This is the Codex of Divinity and Demonhood. Think of it as... my own version of the Bible."
Yubelluna blinked, then reached for the manuscript. She flipped through a few pages—at first, her face remained calm. But as she read on, her composure cracked, awe and disbelief overtaking her features.
"L-Lord Tenra... you want to become a god?"
Her purple lips parted, voice trembling with shock.
She'd only skimmed a handful of pages, but it was enough; this was no ordinary scripture. This was a holy text, but the god at its center wasn't the biblical one—it was Tenra himself.
Tenra tilted her chin up, his smile playful and dangerous. "Is that so unthinkable, my Queen?"
Storms raged in Yubelluna's heart. Any other time, she'd have laughed at such arrogance—a half-human, half-devil dreaming of godhood? Ridiculous. But this was Tenra. Her King. The man who had already shattered so many impossibilities.
And she knew exactly how mad this plan was. If Tenra's codex ever saw the light of day, he would instantly become the Church's greatest enemy—and every other god would turn against him. The politics of faith were bloodier than any battlefield.
"Faith makes gods," she whispered. "And faith is a finite thing, already divided among the old pantheons. They'd never allow a new god to rise."
Tenra's eyes sparkled, undaunted. "You're shocked, aren't you? Maybe you think I'm overreaching, maybe you think I'm insane. But this is who I am. I refuse to crawl as a mortal. I refuse to be satisfied with scraps of power. Demon Kings, gods—it doesn't matter. I'll stand at the summit of this world. I'll make them all kneel."
His voice echoed through the room, fierce and unyielding—a declaration of war against heaven itself.
Yubelluna stared, adrift in his ambition. For a moment, she felt like a tiny boat tossed in a storm. But then she saw the certainty in his gaze, and something inside her shifted.
Maybe he really could do it.
Tenra leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "You'll help me, won't you?"
Her answer was immediate, her eyes shining with wild devotion. If Tenra succeeded, she'd become the queen of a god—what higher honor could there be? And if he failed? Death was a small price; her fate had been bound to his since the day they forged their contract.
"Lord Tenra, I'll follow you to the end."
Tenra's smile deepened. He kissed her—hungry, possessive, absolute. They clung to each other, lost in shared ambition, until finally they parted, breathless and sated.
"Tell me what to do," Yubelluna murmured, resting her head against his chest.
"To become a god is no easy thing," Tenra replied, stroking her violet hair. "Especially the kind of god I intend to be. There's still much to revise in the codex. We'll wait, watch, and strike when the time is right."
This was no impulsive fantasy. Tenra had planned for years, studying every myth and legend, dissecting the rise and fall of gods. In the end, he'd chosen the biblical God as his model—not because of piety, but because, even dead, that god's faith endured wherever the Bible was read.
Tenra had pored over the Bible until its words haunted his dreams. More than once, he'd nearly lost himself—almost converted, almost surrendered to the comfort of faith. But in the end, he'd seen through it all.
For all its shining promises, the Bible was a masterwork of control—a book designed to shape minds, command obedience, and dress it all up as salvation.
Tenra didn't scorn the biblical God. On the contrary, he admired him. That was true genius.
So Tenra wrote his own codex, more audacious, more cunning, more absolute. No matter how beautiful the words, every line demanded faith and submission—to him.
Unlike the Bible's single doctrine, Tenra's codex had two: the Sacred Codex for the virtuous, and the Demonic Codex for the wicked. One taught goodness to become greater; the other, evil to become more extreme.
Tenra didn't care if his followers were saints or monsters. He welcomed both Akeno's gentle light and Raynare's darkness. All that mattered was faith—unquestioning, unbreakable, his alone.
In the end, the Codex of Divinity and Demonhood might just be the most radical, most dangerous scripture the world had ever seen.
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