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THE BEGINNING OF THE END?
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The Mystical Realm was a world of Great Wonder.
Anyone could be anything here, so long as you have the talent or the willingness to die for it.
Scattered throughout the many planes of the Mystical Realm are great treasures and artifacts of great power. Mythical and legendary beasts roamed, plants and flowers capable of miracles for an illness that could be infused into a pill, and so on. Of course, as the universe demanded balance on all the great and good and nice things that happen, all kinds of danger would lurk in every shadow. In a world that was overflowing with qi, it was quite possible that even a mere ant could become a great spirit king. In this world, so long as you have the talent to cultivate, you could become anything.
But the journey is long and arduous, and life-threatening. One can only achieve victory and success if they both have the talent and the will to overcome anything in their cultivation journey.
And to cultivate is to aim for the end goal of the cultivation journey— ascend to become immortal.
Of course, the cultivation road is a hard path that only a few of them would find success in overcoming limits and still growing strong. Fewer than that are able to cultivate and break through to another plane. The rare kind of genius that only comes every hundred thousand years, would be able to ascend and pierce the Heavenly Plane.
One of those rare individuals went by the name Safirus, and he had amassed quite an infamous reputation for being eccentric.
A beautiful man that was attracted to both men and women, Safirus had long deep blue hair falling in waves to his feet with Moonshine Seastar Flowers braided on it. His eyes were a pair of the brightest lazuli gems that was ever seen, with gold flecks and pink dust to be found among the lazuli blue. His deceptively soft-looking body was lean and hid great strength and powerful muscles with the use of colorful celestial spider widow silk that would hang loosely on his body.
He was causing quite a ruckus on the lower planes of realms that the immortal cultivators of Heavenly Plane couldn't help but look down and study him. Immediately, after the moment of amusement at how much chaos he was causing had passed, they thought lowly of him.
Someone who didn't care for etiquette and propriety would act casual and lax even in the presence of important and powerful people. Disrespectful and insulting behavior that they would not let when he comes (they weren't blind, he would certainly ascend to become immortal, there was no mistake on that). If he thought he could refuse to align himself to one of the Great Clans as he did in the lower planes, he would be wrong. They'd rather destroy this powerful simpleton than let him go. They could straighten him out, and with the knowledge (and much to the disappointment and disapproval of some immortals) of how blatant he was with his overindulgence in the carnal pleasures of the flesh and his perchance for causing trouble like a mortal teenager, they could use it as a weapon against him once he was brought down to a heel and be leashed.
They could throw a few pretty faces at him and he would behave.
The nail that sticks out gets to be hammered down immediately, they all said to one another.
They were wrong.
Their idiocy and arrogance in looking down on Safirus had led to them underestimating Safirus, and when the blue-haired Seastorm Wandering God had ascended, piercing the Heavenly Realm, he made them regret not striking him down when they could.
In just a short time after his ascension, Safirus now belonged at the very top of the pyramid with the great and powerful of the Heavenly Plane. His silver tongue and clever, clever mind, and disarming charms had allowed him to make friends and alliances in all sorts of places. They will never be able to touch him without a true cause, lest their scheming may incur the wrath of a powerful being who took a liking to the blasted Wandering God.
Safirus, as they soon learned, was not a simple-minded man who could be controlled. Not by promising him wealth or fame. Power? They couldn't offer him power when he could have it himself. Beauties? He was not one to be swayed by his heart or by the promise of a night by a pretty young thing. No, if he wanted to lay with someone, they would simply come to him instead and even then, he never meant anything serious with it and therefore the beauties he laid with would have no hold on him. Anyone precious they could use against him? He had dozens of followers and allies and 'friends' that he had taken a liking to, but not enough to put his life on the line. And those that might actually have a genuine relationship with him were as untouchable as he was.
Anything else that would work on others, was useless to him.
All they could see was that the immortal blue-haired man was cunning, devious, and always hungry for chaos and mayhem.
They couldn't even beat them themselves as he certainly was powerful, and it looked like he didn't have any limits when he only kept getting stronger. They could not even band together and convinced the rest of the beings in the Heavenly Plane of their goal to destroy Safirus when the blue-haired immortal wasn't even evil, a power-hungry mutt who was evil and went against the laws of nature.
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Make no mistake, that didn't mean he was less of a dangerous threat than he is.
One could even say that it was precisely why he was dangerous.
It made him much more difficult to deal with.
He may have made himself look like a simple, easy-going trickster that liked to live a carefree life, unbound by the duties of being part of a sect or a clan, and free to roam and explore the lands of the Heavenly Realm. And it had worked, led them all to believe he was just a lucky, powerful fool that they could manage to chain down.
And in doing so, they failed in getting rid of him when they can.
Now they had to endure watching and overlooking him, praying none of theirs would make the mistake of earning any of his attention.
The young and the naive and the fools of the Heavenly Realm may still underestimate that Wandering God but the wisest, and cleverest of minds had learned their lesson and now weren't fooled by the slightest.
They knew how to look past the smiles, the pouts, and the cheerful facade Safirus liked to put on.
Safirus was that flower in a garden you can't help but be drawn to, closer and closer as you marvel at how its beauty outshone the other flowers in the garden, and by the time you may have realized something was wrong, it was too late. You were on the floor, maybe wrapped tightly in wines with poisonous thorns. Or maybe writhing on the floor in extreme pain as poison traveled through your vein. Or perhaps you are screaming, shaking with your hands on your head as you slowly went mad from the scent the flower was giving.
It was a mistake to underestimate him.
The ones with the sharpest of eyes had seen through him.
They would not make another mistake by overlooking him again.
The excitement on his face when war brewed over the horizon, the joy and laughter when there is so much chaos, the cold amusement when bodies littered the street, and then the careless and unrestrained act of cruelty and violence in a fit of boredom. The smiles and charms he had when making friends in high and unlikely places. That silvertongue capable of both poison that would destroy you and sweet honey to lure others away from their safe families and clans and into his arms. That hunger to fill the need for chaos, and in causing chaos he would find smiles and thrive in it whereas others would be horrified and devastated.
They see it all, and they think and they say as they stepped back, looked down, and looked away from Safirus wreaking havoc wherever he went, doing whatever he wanted, and with absolutely no care for anyone else but himself.
They whisper to one another in fear.
Safirus, that man... was a monster.
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—Or so they say.
The twin moons, Aurum and Argenti, dance together in the night sky, the pelt of stars twinkling around them. The night breeze comes and goes, freezing a mortal to their death in a matter of seconds— but for Safirus, in all his loose inner robes, sake in one hand that threatened to spill as he swayed side to side, just merely felt a chill.
He sighs, a fond smile on his face as he watches the pond's reflection. Images that were changing from one place to another. Places he is quite familiar with, places he has journeyed and had adventures, and places throughout the Mystical Realm.
In his many years in this world, there is no land he has not journeyed yet— except the next plane if there is any.
He drinks— savoring the extremely rare and covetous spiritual alcohol that was the Blue Winterpearl Rice Wine that was a gift brewed and preserved for him personally by one of his paramours, who was one of the Snow Women at the Northern Winter Mountains.
He mused.
It has been one hundred thousand years since he found himself in the Mystical Realm.
Loathe as he was to admit it, he could still remember the life he had before Mystical Realm. The stupid mundane life he had in a mundane world, as someone who was so pathetic to still chase and cling to people who didn't want him and caused him nothing but misery. Who didn't see how he was used and then thrown away like trash, and kept on chasing after people like a starved street dog. And then when the truth came out after everything came down, the anger and rage threatened to swallow him whole. He wanted revenge and justice.
What did it get him? Nothing but more misery and death and regrets.
At the very end, that pathetic boy kept living for someone else...
But then he came here to the Mystical Realm. A second chance in life, a fresh new start with no one and nothing tying him down.
And he took on a path, determined to have that life where he had nothing tying him down, and low and behold.
The birth of Safirus, Wandering Seastorm God, came to be.
A smile spreads on his face, dimples on his cheeks, and contentment in his eyes.
Feeling the cool buzz of the spiritual alcohol with the lingering taste in his mouth, he sighs. Then he hears the soft patters of feet on wooden floors, the giggling, and then the presence of those belonging to the sun, the river, and flowers respectively.
Safirus sits up and allows arms to loosely wrap themselves around his shoulders, with soft bosoms and the weight of the one belonging to the sun settling on his back.
"My Lord, isn't it rather cold and lonely to be out here at this time of night?"
Sunshine, a gorgeous sunlight nymph sworn to Sol, simpered as she nuzzled her face to his. Gorgeous Sunshine, with her daisy-yellow coiled hair and soft caramel-brown skin, and orange silk dress.
Another nymph settled at Safirus left, her long and bright silver hair pooling on the floor as she sat down, with her shimmering nightdress complementing her blue eyes.
"The night is calm, as do the waters of Naery'a." Droplet, the stunning river nymph sworn to Naery'a, smiles "our Lord is enjoying himself, so no need for the concerns Sunshine."
Another nymph, one with red-rose hair in a braid, freckled pale pink skin, and an ivory dress settles on Safirus's right.
"But it's cold and it's lonely, surely, our Lord Safirus is in need of warmth and company?" Petal bats her eyelashes to him.
Safirus smiled at them in amusement. Nymphs, were so clingy. He catches the small but growing heady scent of arousal and has to acknowledge the want and desire.
It was getting rather chilly, Safirus thinks to himself.
"So long as it is offered freely," Sunshine the nymph squeals when he moves her swiftly to his lap, giggling with want in their eyes whilst he grinned and leaned close "I won't mind the warmth and company you have for me."
"Don't leave us out of it, My Lord-"
"I won't forgive you if you forgotten us-"
Safirus laughs and smiles wickedly "there's always more of me to satiate you three equally, so no need to worry lovelies" and so he leans in, and does what he always does—
He takes, and takes, and takes, and takes—
The night is still young after all.