Fuck… I knew everything was going far too smoothly.
I struggled to find a solution as the emerald blaze grew stronger. Its flames surged upward and spread wide, though they did not burn even the leaves they touched.
“Lyle, don’t!” Avenor shouted as he stepped out of the shadows, Phantom Step bringing him close to her.
His eyes remained fixed on Lyle as she swung her blades at the blaze, or rather at the figure within it. The creature was still a little more than a blurry silhouette, but its form was slowly becoming clearer.
Her attack never landed.
Before the edge of her weapon could reach its target, the emerald flames flared, and Lyle was hurled backward as though the blaze itself had struck her.
Her body spun through the air before crashing into the ground. She rolled several times and came to a painful stop against a tree.
“Everyone, retreat!” Avenor shouted again, his sword already in his hand.
Verde, I’m not sure I can win this.
His thoughts reached me as he charged forward, closing the distance instantly before swinging at the blaze.
The green flames flared once more, but they failed to throw Avenor away as they had Lyle. His sword reached the still-blurry figure, its edge glinting green as it struck the emerald silhouette.
A dull thud sounded, and the earth shook beneath them.
Cracks spread across the ground around the blaze, while shards of stone and small pebbles rose into the air and began circling it, quickly picking up speed.
Avenor pulled his sword back and prepared to strike again, but the torrent of earth and stone crashed into him, cutting across his exposed skin and forcing him to retreat.
“Aria, I need help!” he shouted toward the mage running toward him as quickly as she could.
Before Aria could reach him, a figure shot down from above and crashed directly into the blaze.
Aurelion.
His wings were already shimmering when his form became clear, crimson feathers covered in a golden sheen. His face was tight and every muscle in his body strained as he pressed down on his glaive, its blade stopped only inches from the emerald figure that had nearly finished taking shape.
The blaze pressed against him, every tongue of flame drawn toward his body and burning his skin.
Yet despite the burns appearing across him, Aurelion showed no hesitation. He adjusted his right leg, using it as an anchor before pushing down with even greater force.
The blade of his glaive advanced.
Its tip nearly touched the God of Beggars.
Then the blaze flared once more, its light growing bright enough to affect even the Window. The entire area disappeared from my sight.
I considered stepping in and channeling my divinity into the mortal world. But the countermeasures the Pantheon might take made me hesitate, but even more troubling was the realization of what would happen if I exhausted that option now.
What would I do when Noah was able to use his powers again?
Without my help, the Velmoryns would certainly die then.
Fuck… Fuck the Pantheon. Fuck these rules…
An idea came to mind.
I could move Tekla to the battlefield.
She could use my power freely. Even if she wasted a great deal of it, it would still be worth the cost.
Making up my mind, I was about to isolate the connection I shared with Tekla and pull her into my realm when I heard Aurelion’s voice.
“I shall not let You down, my Liege. I shall not break my oath.”
The Window cleared enough for me to see him standing within the green haze, his wings wrapped protectively around Aria and Avenor.
Lucas lay sprawled on the ground nearby, twisting in pain, half his body covered in burns.
Lyle had fared better. She had been hurled far enough away that the blaze had not fully reached her. Most of her warriors had not been so fortunate.
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They were dead.
Their bodies were charred black, while the few who remained alive writhed on the ground, their skin blistered and covered in wounds. They lay in pools of their own blood, moaning weakly.
The green sheen enveloped them almost immediately. The wounded Velmoryns, Aurelion, Avenor, and Aria were all caught within it.
It was Vaelari.
My forces had already slaughtered the remaining humans and come to their rescue.
Vaelari was trembling horribly. This was the only spell he possessed that could affect such a wide area, and I had seen him use it only during training. Even then, the toll it took on his body had been severe.
The velmoryns who had survived the flames quickly regained consciousness as their wounds began to mend. They pushed themselves to their feet, their eyes searching for their commander.
But as they looked for Lyle, the green haze finally lifted, and instead, they saw him.
Or rather, Him.
The God of Beggars.
He was unnaturally tall, nearly twice Aurelion’s size, perhaps even larger. His ragged robes barely covered his body, leaving his collarbones exposed and every rib visible beneath his skin, each one forming a dark horizontal line across his torso.
Several golden amulets hung from his neck, decorated with colorful jewels. Beneath them, just above his navel, was an open wound from which a faint green shimmer continued to seep.
Was that the mark Avenor’s attack had left behind?
The God of Beggars straightened. His long, dark, greasy hair covered most of his face, its strands clumped together with dirt. Slowly, his emerald eyes moved across the battlefield as though he were judging the strength of those around him.
“Retreat!” Aurelion ordered Mirion when he noticed the velmoryn preparing to engage. “Take everyone with you. This is not an enemy you can face.”
I thought about bringing Tekla to the battlefield again, but then I felt my angel’s resolve.
This was a battle he wanted to fight himself, both to prove his strength and to atone for losing to Reest. I also remembered the oath he had made - that if he ever lost another battle, he would pay the ultimate price.
Would bringing Tekla count as a loss? I knew it would hurt Aurelion’s pride, but would it be counted as a loss?
And what if I didn’t and he truly lost without her?
Unsure, I decided to wait, at least long enough to see whether Aurelion needed help. He had the glaive now, and for the first time, he would be able to use his full strength.
“Aria, you heard what he said,” Avenor said with a faint smile. “Go with the others. I’ll help him.”
“No,” Aria replied as her magic flared, crimson mana rising from her body like steam.
Aurelion nodded slightly before pulling his scarlet gaze away from Aria and Avenor and fixing it on the God of Beggars.
His body shimmered once more, and with a powerful flap of his wings, he surged forward.
The glaive swept in from the side, its blade aimed at the God of Beggars’ right flank. It crossed half the distance without resistance, as though the deity had no intention of blocking or evading.
At the last possible moment, however, the incarnated god dissolved into green haze, allowing the blade to pass through him harmlessly.
Aurelion pulled the glaive back and retreated. Confusion tightened his expression, his brows drawing together as he stared at the slightly translucent figure slowly taking shape once more.
His mind struggled, searching for a way to wound something his weapon could not touch.
Avenor hesitated as well. He had moved forward at first, clearly intending to combine his attacks with Aurelion’s, but after seeing how effortlessly the angel’s strike had been neutralized, he was no longer certain what to do.
Unlike him, Aria seemed to have a plan.
More than a dozen crimson runes appeared beneath the God of Beggars, quickly arranging themselves into a circle as shapes began forming. The moment the spell fully took shape, its effect became clear.
The God of Beggars flinched as the left side of his body turned tangible again.
But only for the briefest moment.
The runes faded almost immediately, and Aria fell to her knees, shivering.
“He… impossible…” she muttered through clenched teeth. Then she looked up, her gaze fiercer than ever as she forced herself back to her feet. “We must kill him, Avenor. We must kill him, regardless of the cost.”
Avenor nodded, but instead of his voice, it was the rasping sound of laughter that answered her.
“You? Kill me?” the God of Beggars snorted. “I will slaughter all of you, and once I am free…”
His smile twisted horribly, absolute hatred written across his face.
Then his body turned fully tangible, shimmered green, and charged.
Instantly, he closed the distance to Avenor and struck him across the face with the back of his hand. Avenor did not even have time to understand what had happened before he crashed into a nearby tree and slumped to the ground, his body broken and blood running from the corner of his mouth.
The God of Beggars turned his attention to Aria next.
“You disgusting abomination,” he roared, already standing before her. “You? Kill me?”
His hand shot toward Aria’s throat. The mage had no chance to block, evade, or cast another spell. All she could do was watch as certain death closed in.
But the hand never reached her.
Aurelion’s glaive cut through the God of Beggars’ arm before he could make contact.
Everything below the elbow struck the ground with a wet thud. Green light flared from the wound, surging as though trying to restore the missing limb, but ultimately failed.
The God of Beggars retreated, shock and fury twisting his face.
“How… how did you get your filthy hands on a relic forged by Him?” he shouted.
Aurelion had no idea what the deity was talking about, nor did he care. He turned his head slightly toward Aria while keeping his scarlet eyes fixed on the God of Beggars.
“Can you use that spell one more time?”
“Yes,” Aria said. “I shall create the chance for you.”
[Warning!]
The God of Beggars has chosen to reveal their true form. Despite this, the Pantheon will not intervene.