The thought was revolting. If every fifth-tier powerhouse could simply "lie" their way into divinity, then the struggle of the Paragons, the bone-deep fear, the desperate near-death trials, and the sheer iron will required to forge an impermeable soul was nothing more than a fool's errand. It was a mockery of everything she had sacrificed to reach her status. To her, power was earned in the vacuum of one's own spirit, to Nwadiebube, it was apparently a marketing campaign.
Her mind raced, connecting the political dots. If her brother was right, the Omadi Kingdom already possessed the sheer population density required to fuel such an ascension. They didn't need more land. They didn't need more blood.
"So why?" Nwadimma asked, her ow thoughts cutting through his excitement like a cold blade. "If anll you need is a kingdom and a congregation, why did Murmur push for the clash with Osita? Why orchestrate a war that would tear the continent apart?"
