Chiron smirked and took a deliberate step forward.
"To think," he said lightly, voice carrying over the humming formation, "that I'd be having an avatar of a god for breakfast."
His eyes gleamed, sharp and hungry.
"This is going to be a delicious meal."
The monk grit his teeth as the last of his stability collapsed. His legs gave out, and he dropped to his knees, robes scorched and dim, divinity leaking from him like light through shattered glass.
"You fool…" the monk snarled, breath ragged. "You've made a catastrophic mistake. By making me your enemy, you've invited the wrath of the Alliance of the True Heavens. Every temple under our banner will hunt you until your soul is ground to dust."
Chiron chuckled, the sound low and amused.
"And how," he asked, "do you expect them to reach me?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"Gods can't descend to the mortal plane."
The monk's lips curved upward.
A smirk.
