The Guardian gods
Chapter 541

Chapter 541: 541

Rattan felt his mind reel, struggling to grasp the enormity of what he was hearing. His brain went blank for a moment before he managed to articulate the thought that crashed through his shock. "Do you mean... that such an object can be handed to any mage, as long as their interests align with its purpose?"

"That’s precisely it, Rattan," Vellok confirmed, a grim nod emphasizing his words. "This colossal, planet-sized vessel, this ’impossible’ construct, isn’t some unique, divine artifact. It’s a tool, a research station, a mobile laboratory for those mages powerful and reckless enough to wield it. It functions like a vast, cosmic canvas for their experiments, a place where they can conduct research that would impact lesser worlds."

He paused, a chilling realization dawning on Rattan’s face. "Imagine the kind of power that conceives of such a thing, Rattan. Not just to move a planet, but to build one and then bestow it upon their chosen. It demonstrates a level of magical mastery that utterly dwarfs anything our gods, or even the ratfolk gods, could ever dream of."

"And the purpose, you ask? The alignment of interests?" Vellok scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. "For us, trapped within its mechanisms, it meant we were nothing more than test subjects. Our world, our history, our very existence, was merely a contained environment for their observations. They didn’t care about our gods, our struggles, or our civilizations. We were, in their eyes, simply a variable in their grand cosmic equation."

At the precipice of the Abyss, three powerful beings observed the history lesson unfolding before them. Ikenga, who always was paying attention, noticed Vellok’s growing interest in Rattan and his willingness to reveal their world’s hidden truths.

Ikenga conveyed this insight to Keles, who immediately saw an opportunity. The idea of inviting Zarvok to partake in this secret was proposed, with the promise of a more larger share of the world’s knowledge and mysteries as his reward.

And so, the current scene played out. The unfolding history was projected through phantoms sight for the immortal beings to witness. Zarvok, a wide, unsettling smile on his face, even rose to serve, ensuring Ikenga and Keles’s chalices were meticulously filled with his finest wine.

"Your Highnesses truly surprised me with your accomplishments with your chess pieces," Zarvok purred, settling back onto his elaborate throne.

Ikenga’s laughter echoed softly. "I believe more surprises await us, Zarvok. Why don’t we continue listening?"

Rattan, still reeling from Vellok’s words, hadn’t anticipated such a stark revelation about their world’s origins, nor the surprising history of cooperation between his people and the goblins. With a parched mouth, he managed to ask, "What was the test carried out by these mages?"

Vellok, who seemed momentarily lost in thought, shook his head. "This was knowledge typically reserved for those who reached the Sixth Stage, but current circumstances make it essential you understand it now."

"Do you recall," Vellok continued, "when I mentioned the ratfolk’s unique position as the first children of this world?"

Rattan nodded slowly.

"The mages’ experiment involved something precisely tied to that," Vellok explained. "The mages themselves never explicitly stated what test they were conducting; they rarely spoke to us at all. It was through our own desperate deduction, piecing together fragments of observation over decades, that we eventually came to a horrifying conclusion about the nature of their experiment."

The Sixth Stage represents the absolute pinnacle of power that a mortal—one not born a god—can achieve through sheer will, intellect, and mastery over arcane forces. At this stage, the being in question wields powers on par with divinities: manipulating reality, commanding elemental forces, and bending the laws of nature to their will. Though they lack the innate divinity of true gods, they have mastered divine-like abilities through relentless study, cultivation, and sacrifice.

However, this is where the divergence begins.

For gods, the path forward is relatively straightforward—though not without challenge. They ascend by expanding their domains, increasing their following, and harvesting the collective belief and faith of mortals. As faith energy accumulates, it fuels their divinity, allowing them to grow stronger, evolve, and even redefine the scope of their influence.

But for those at the Sixth Stage who are not gods, the journey beyond this threshold becomes exponentially more complex and perilous. Lacking divine infrastructure, they must rely on something far more elusive: an understanding of the true workings of the universe. The deeper laws, the hidden mechanisms, the primordial truths that predate the gods themselves—these are the keys to transcending mortality without faith.

This realization has driven many of the most powerful mages, warlocks, sages, and arcane scholars into a state of obsessive pursuit. They seek knowledge not found in books, nor whispered in mortal tongues. Instead, they cast their gaze toward beings whose very existence defies common logic and understanding: gods, demons, angels, ancient elementals, and timeless immortals—entities who operate on planes so far removed from normal reality that they are seen as cosmic anomalies.

To learn from these beings—to dissect, replicate, or even consume their essence—is seen as the only path forward.

And so, the Quest for the Seventh Stage is often written in blood and conquest. To gain access to lost histories, forbidden relics, hidden ley lines, or the bodies of celestial beings themselves, many mages turn to warfare and domination. Entire worlds are seized, not for territory or power in the mundane sense, but as laboratories—realms transformed into staging grounds for experiments of unimaginable scale and consequence.

Some mages become philosopher-kings, using their vast intellect to guide civilizations as living experiments. Others become tyrants, stripping entire populations of autonomy in the name of transcendent progress. And a rare few—those most desperate or visionary—attempt to merge with or become the very beings they once sought to study.

But there is always a persistent obstacle in the path of transcendence—the difficulty of conquest, particularly when it comes to high-level worlds. These are not simple backwaters of creation. They are realms steeped in ancient energies, hidden legacies, and evolved civilizations—each a potential treasure trove of resources, knowledge, and experimental ground for the mage’s ambition.

Yet these very qualities make them fiercely resistant.

Most high-level worlds are not isolated in their existence. At some point in their histories, their inhabitants—or even the world-soul itself—have made contact with other worlds or unearthed higher truths. These truths often grant them a rudimentary grasp of cosmic workings, awakening their innate potential. Even the average denizen might begin to sense the limits of their existence and question what lies beyond. In such worlds, even the peasants are touched by ancient myths, and the ruling classes often hold fragments of power inherited from gods, titans, or forgotten ages.

One of the most dangerous secrets that these advanced worlds possess is knowledge of the "First Children". These beings, deeply bonded with the world-spirit, have the singular ability to unify their consciousness and, through sheer collective will, submit their world to a higher power.

This submission is not metaphorical—it is a literal, metaphysical surrender of the world’s resistances. Normally, when an outsider attempts to exert their power in a foreign realm, the world itself—sentient or not—pushes back, suppressing their strength like a body rejecting a foreign entity. But when the First Children give their unified consent, this defense vanishes. The world opens its gates, granting the foreign power full access—no suppression, no interference.

Vellok suddenly laughed, a sharp, cynical sound. "It’s easier said than done, Rattan. How many living souls would willingly surrender their right to freedom and their living space? Some are ready to die on their home ground, and that’s precisely what these mages despise. War and a stubborn race makes their potential loss not worth it, as war means much will be destroyed, even that which they are looking for."

"That, Rattan, is where the experiment turned. Our world, in its own right, is both a high-level and a low-level world. High, because of its incredibly concentrated mana and rich inherent magical properties. Low, because the races within it had simply not had the time to grow and fully match its status."

"For the mages, our world was a rare treat." Vellok’s gaze bore directly into Rattan, who suddenly felt an immense, suffocating pressure descend upon him.

"The hundred years we spent in darkness were a hundred years of the mages taking our goblin race and the ratfolk, and carrying out different, horrific experiments on each."

"For the ratfolk, the mages focused on creating a spell that would suppress their inherent position as the world’s first child. And as for us, the goblins, that time was spent genetically engineering us into better versions of ourselves, preparing us to take over the next position of first child."

Hearing that last sentence felt like an explosion in Rattan’s head. The disparate dots of information began to connect, forming a terrifying picture. Now, the Empire’s actions towards the ratfolk—his people—all made sickening sense.

Looking at the utterly shocked Rattan, Vellok let out a self-mocking chuckle. "You’re smart enough to understand what that truly means, aren’t you?"