After absorbing every last drop of Helion's flesh and divine essence, Orsaga casually summoned a surge of bloodflame, incinerating the leftover scraps of his body to ash.
Then, his gaze turned skyward—toward that blazing celestial body still burning brightly in the Sky.
Through the lingering traces of Helion's power, Orsaga could sense where his divine kingdom was hidden: somewhere within that sun-like star.
Only the general direction was clear—the exact location remained elusive.
Even though Helion had been slain—his body and even the soul fragment within it destroyed—for a god, that wasn't truly fatal.
To kill a God outright, one had to destroy their divine realm along with the soul core residing within.
Without hesitation, Orsaga spread his wings wide.
With a single powerful beat, his massive frame shot upward like a blood-red meteor, streaking toward the sun.
__
This world's cosmic structure followed the old "Heaven is round, Earth is square" model: the land lay flat, while the stars above were suspended celestial spheres.
These heavenly bodies didn't rotate, orbit, or drift.
They simply hung in place—permanently.
Day and night were regulated by other magical mechanisms, not planetary motion.
As Orsaga burst through the cloud layer and entered the astral domain, two massive stellar bodies dominated his vision—
The Sun, and the Moon.
Nearly identical in size and shape, they resembled semi-liquid orbs of glowing, unknown material. No craters, no continents—just smooth, radiant mass.
The only difference?
One burned with ferocious heat and light.
The other remained pale and cold, as if asleep.
Arriving near the burning star, Orsaga lifted a hand and slowly opened his palm.
From within, a swarm of eyeball-shaped entities slithered out and began to float around him.
"Go. Find his divine kingdom."
Imbued with a fraction of Orsaga's will and enhanced with specialized detection capabilities, the floating eyes shot forward, scattering across the surface of the sun.
Unlike regular worlds where stars were just dumb balls of plasma, in a magical realm like the Seven Seas realm, celestial bodies held real power and meaning.
Here, the sun was a sacred object, rich with divine authority.
That's why, whether in the Seven Seas or the Myling World before it, Abyssal invaders always had to corrupt the land first—create "Polluted Zones" to survive.
Otherwise, even a single sunbeam could cripple a Lesser Demon or vaporize a Minor Demon outright.
Exorcism, purification, anti-evil auras, anti-curse amplification…
Even just being near the solar core, Orsaga could feel its rejection—an overwhelming hostility, as if the star wanted to incinerate him on sight.
Fortunately, the sun lacked self-awareness. It only reacted instinctively.
Otherwise, it might have started throwing flares just to burn him down.
But even with no mind of its own, the sun still interfered heavily with his detection magic.
Every probe spell he cast returned garbled data—like trying to see through thick static.
That's why he'd unleashed his living probes for a full-scale, close-range sweep.
Soon, tens of thousands of those floating eyes blanketed the solar surface.
Every few kilometers, one hovered in place, scanning.
They formed a 360-degree surveillance grid, watching every ripple of energy.
Through their vision, Orsaga observed the sun's inner workings: its layered structure, its magic flows, its hidden spaces.
But Helion's divine kingdom remained concealed.
Orsaga wasn't surprised.
"After all, he's a Sun God. If I could just waltz in and spot his realm, he'd be unworthy of the title."
Without pause, Orsaga lifted his right arm, clenching it into a fist.
Then—snap!
Nearby meteorites shattered into dust, then instantly reassembled into a thousand-meter-long lance, which landed firmly in his grasp.
Calculating his aim, he twisted his waist, gathered his strength, and—
"FWOOSH!"
The blood-red lance tore through space like a divine javelin,
crossing thousands of kilometers in an instant before it punched straight into the sun.
"BOOM!!"
The impact triggered a massive solar flare.
A ring of fire burst from the impact site, rippling outward across the stellar surface.
But the lance didn't melt.
Even the sun's infernal heat failed to dissolve this Abyssal creation.
Orsaga didn't stop.
Another spear.
Then another.
One after the next, each embedded deep into the star's core.
Soon, the countless lances formed a gigantic ritual circle, etched directly into the surface of the sun.
When the ritual completed, the spears all flared with crimson light.
Wherever their light touched, the flames of the sun began to twist into vortices.
Swirling like drills, they siphoned the solar fire into the runes.
The more they absorbed, the larger the vortices became—
growing from mere kilometers across… to tens of kilometers.
The light and heat radiating from the sun began to dim—visibly.
And faintly…
Orsaga began to hear something.
A groan. A deep, furious vibration.
As if the sun itself was weeping.
He realized—
The sun is bleeding… but can't fight back.
It was a stellar cry of helpless rage.
As the burning maelstroms expanded across its surface, Orsaga's expression twisted into a vicious grin.
---
Back in the Chloroya Merchant Guild's observation chamber…
The staff were drenched in cold sweat.
They had expected Orsaga to maybe flatten a few cities, scour the earth a little.
But this—
He's trying to blow up the SUN!
If the sun was extinguished, the entire world would be done for.
There would be no ecosystem left.
And that meant their plan of turning the Seven Seas realm into a resource-rich colony?
Gone. Dead. Incinerated.
The Guildmaster would absolutely execute every last one of them in a ritual offering if that happened.
No longer caring about offending Orsaga, the staff panicked.
"Quick! Contact him! Now!"
"We don't care if the god survives—just make sure the sun does!!"
Dozens of communication artifacts lit up.
Desperate messages flooded toward Orsaga like prayers to a wrathful demon god.
---
Hovering above the sun, halfway through preparing his next spear…
Orsaga paused.
He furrowed his brow slightly.
"Tch… Annoying little insects…"
He had sensed the incoming messages—and his mood soured.
Not because he felt guilt or remorse.
Just because… they interrupted his fun.
___
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