*Content Warning: This chapter contains mature themes, violence, blood, and morally dark actions. Reader discretion advised.*
The God of Lightning watched the distant point where Leon's body lay, lightning storms turning slowly in his eyes. A wide smile tugged at his lips.
"So the boy has fallen this far, huh."
The smile faded, replaced by a cold, serious expression.
"This may hurt my pride," he murmured, "but I'll have to kill that boy's unconscious body myself."
He had been watching Leon ever since their first clash. From above the clouds, through shattered space, even through praying mortals' eyes—always observing. The conclusion he'd reached chilled even a god.
"That brat's growth is abnormal," he said, voice like distant thunder. "If he continues to grow stronger day by day, he could one day become a threat to every god that still sits on a throne."
Ozone thickened in the air. Lightning coiled around him like living serpents.
"So I'll end him now, while he's helpless."
***
The sky over the Empire split open. A pillar of blue‑white lightning crashed down near the capital, turning night into blinding day for a heartbeat.When the light faded, the God of Lightning stood at the center of a crater, his presence crushing the surrounding space.
Leon's body lay on the stone floor nearby, motionless, eyes closed—no aura, no resistance, nothing but a corpse that had forgotten to stop breathing.
The god walked toward him slowly, each step making the ground crack and spark.
"So this is what's left of you," he said, looking down. "A body without a driver. Pathetic."
He crouched, gripping Leon's jaw and forcing his face upward.
"Listen well, boy," he said, even though Leon could not answer. "This is mercy. You should be grateful I'm the one killing you… instead of letting those gods you angered tear you apart in pieces."
The god's fingers tightened. Lightning crawled from his hand into Leon's body, burning veins blue from the inside. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air.
"You had talent," the god went on, tone almost conversational. "You even dared roar back at me. But talent without measure only breeds monsters. I don't need a monster with my lightning in his bones."
He drove his hand straight through Leon's chest. Bones cracked, flesh tore, blood burst out in a spray of red steam. A fist‑sized hole opened where Leon's heart should have been.
"Die," the god said simply.
Leon's body convulsed once, then went limp. The god yanked his hand out, flicking blood from his fingers as if it were dirt. He checked with divine senses—no heartbeat, no aura, no consciousness linked to the flesh. By all rules, the boy was dead.
"Threat removed," he said, turning away. "Remember this, boy—this is the limit of mortals. No matter how much you struggle, in front of a god, you're nothing but ash waiting to happen."
He took a step.
Behind him, something moved.
A single, broken finger twitched. Then another. Blood poured from the hole in Leon's chest, but instead of merely spilling out, it began to crawl backward, defying gravity, dragging itself toward the wound. Veins of darkness and lightning intertwined where his heart had once been, knitting something new.
The god froze. Slowly, he turned back.
Leon's body, which should have been a corpse, shuddered—and then a ragged breath tore out of his throat. His eyes snapped open, pupils shaking, as if he had just clawed his way out of a nightmare.
***
Deep inside the black space, the Mind Demon felt it first—a shudder in the chains that wrapped around Leon's soul.
"…What?"
The shackles he had forged tightened on their own, trying to hold Leon down, but something on the other side pulled harder. The world around him trembled.
"That's impossible," the Mind Demon hissed. "I swallowed his consciousness. You shouldn't be able to—"
The emptiness split. A blinding crack of light pierced the black space, tearing through the Mind Demon's domain like a sword. Through that fracture, Leon's will surged—feral, furious, and sharpened by his "death."
The chains snapped.
"Get out of my way," Leon roared, and the Mind Demon was hurled back as if struck by a meteor.
***
Leon's soul slammed back into his body. Pain exploded through him—burning lightning in his nerves, the cold emptiness where his heart should have been, the memory of a god's hand punching through his chest.
He staggered to his feet, blood still dripping, chest wound half‑closed with a grotesque mix of flesh, darkness, and crackling electricity.
The God of Lightning stared at him, expression unreadable.
"…You were dead," the god said quietly. "I confirmed it."
Leon exhaled slowly, eyes cold.
"Then take it as proof," he replied hoarsely, "that I'm too stubborn to stay dead."
His gaze sharpened on the god. "And that your lightning… suits me better than it suits you."
***
High above, in the skies above the Empire, people had seen the pillar of lightning and rushed to vantage points.
"The God of Lightning descended again…" a noble muttered, face pale.
"Who is he fighting?" a warrior asked, gripping the rail. "Is that… a human?"
Within the imperial palace, the Emperor and Empress watched the battlefield through a scrying mirror, the image flickering with static.
"That boy again," the Emperor said, fingers digging into the armrest. "First he challenges a god's projection, now the god's main body comes to finish him personally. Just what kind of monster did we pick up?"
The Empress narrowed her eyes. "Look at his chest. He should be dead. Yet he stands. Either he's blessed… or cursed."
In distant nations, diviners and rulers stared into their own mirrors and pools, watching the same scene play out.
"A human capable of standing back up after a god kills him?" a foreign king murmured. "If he survives this, the balance of the world will shift."
"Or we won't have to worry," another ruler answered darkly. "Because the God of Lightning will erase him here and now."
***
Back on the battlefield, the god's serious expression finally twisted into something between irritation and genuine excitement.
"Interesting," he said. "You learned to stand again after I killed you. So what will you do now, boy?"
He raised his hand. Thunder boomed overhead, clouds twisting into a vortex of light.
"Come, then. Show me how far a mortal can go after stealing a glimpse of divine power."
Leon's eyes reflected the storm. With the Mind Demon's shackles shattered, his perception felt sharper, his thoughts colder. He watched the God of Lightning's stance, the way power flowed through his arm, the pattern of the sigils in the clouds.
Inside his mind, something clicked.
"Copy," he whispered.
Lightning gathered around him, mimicking the arc and structure of the god's technique. It wasn't perfect—rough, unstable—but it followed the same path.
The god's eyes narrowed. "You dare mirror my art?"
"Didn't you say your lightning doesn't suit me?" Leon answered, raising his own hand. "Then I'll make it mine."
Both moved at once.
"Sky‑Rending Spear!"
Two lances of lightning tore through the air, one divine and flawlessly controlled, the other wild and furious. They met in mid‑air with a deafening explosion, shockwaves flattening the ground around them.
Leon skidded back, boots carving deep gouges into the stone. Blood leaked from his nose and ears, but he was still standing.
The god hadn't moved an inch.
"Again," Leon growled.
He watched, learned, and copied. The god unleashed technique after technique—thunderclap steps, jagged arcs of lightning that curved mid‑flight, a net of electric chains meant to bind souls. Leon mirrored each one, forcing his unstable body to move in patterns it could barely withstand. His flesh tore. His bones cracked. But his eyes only grew sharper.
Spectators across the world watched, stunned.
"He's copying a god's moves mid‑fight…" someone whispered.
"That's not talent," another voice said. "That's madness."
On the hundredth clash, Leon's body finally gave out. He tried to imitate a towering lightning dragon that the god summoned, but his own version turned on him, detonating from within.
The explosion hurled him across the battlefield. He crashed into the ground, carving a long trench, blood spraying from his mouth. Smoke rose from his skin; his right arm hung limp, nerves burned out.
The God of Lightning descended slowly, standing over him.
"You did well," the god admitted. "Copying a god's techniques, forcing your mortal frame to endure them… You've gone further than any human has a right to."
Leon tried to push himself up. His arms shook, then collapsed beneath him.
"But this is the limit," the god continued, voice calm. "You can imitate my thunder, but you can't surpass it. Not yet."
He raised his hand one more time. A blade of condensed lightning formed, humming with lethal power.
"Sleep, Leon. Grow stronger in the next life, if you still dare."
Leon glared up at him, vision blurring, yet unwilling to look away.
"I'm not… done…" he rasped.
His body, however, refused to move.
This time, when the god's blade descended, Leon could not dodge. The world was swallowed by white.
***
**Author's Note:**
So… Leon just got one‑shotted by a god, force‑revived himself, copied divine skills, and still got folded in the end. Yeah, this is that kind of story.
If you're enjoying **Throne Beyond the Veil**, your boy Leon, and this unhinged God of Lightning, consider dropping a comment, review, or whatever cursed lightning move you'd give Leon next. I read everything, steal the best ideas, and pretend they were planned from the start.
Also, if you're still here, type "I refuse to stay dead"so I know who the real psychos riding with this story are.