The moon hung low that night—fat, swollen, blood–tinged—like it was watching me crawl out of the grave again.The divinity inside me pulsed, that quiet sealed heartbeat now roaring like a storm breaking through rusted chains.
For twelve chapters, I had held back.Tonight, I didn't.
THE SILENCE BEFORE THE SLAUGHTER
The forest I walked through wasn't silent; it was holding its breath.Animals hid. The wind avoided me. Even the stars dimmed, as if they didn't want to witness what I was about to do.
The tracking sigil burned on my palm—the one left behind by the divine assassins who thought a "fallen prince" would stay fallen.
"Come, then," I whispered.My voice came out colder than I intended."Come collect the corpse you failed to bury."
The sigil flared.
They were close.
THE THREE WHO CAME TO CLAIM MY HEAD
They arrived without footsteps—three silhouettes dropping from the canopy like falling blades.
Black armor, divine-forged.Spiritual pressure heavy enough to crush mortal lungs.Eyes glowing with the false righteousness of gods who never paid for their sins.
The leader stepped forward.
"Prince Hiro. You were warned. You were forgiven once. The High Thrones decree—"
"Spare me."
I raised a hand.
His body tensed.
My shadow moved first.
THE DIVINITY BEGINS TO UNSEAL
The darkness behind me twisted, elongated—forming wings, not fully, just outlines—fractured, divine, incomplete.
A taste of what I once held.
The assassins froze.
"That… that's impossible—"
The leader tried stepping back.
Bad choice.
I vanished.
Or maybe I simply stopped existing in the same time as them.
ONE BREATH. ONE MOVE. ONE ANNIHILATION.
My hand pierced through the leader's divine armor like it was wet clay.His ribs cracked.His heart pulsed once against my fingers.
Then stopped.
I whispered into his ear:
"Tell the High Thrones… I'm done running."
I pulled my hand free.
He collapsed without a scream.
The forest reacted before the other two did.Leaves trembled.Birds scattered.Shadows stretched toward me like hungry dogs.
My divinity was resurfacing fast.
The remaining assassins bolted.
Smart.
But not smart enough.
THE HUNT BEGINS
I didn't walk.I didn't run.
I moved—like mist flowing around their fear.
One assassin leaped through trees, throwing divine needles behind him.Every needle curved away from me mid-air as if terrified to touch me.
The other tried chanting a celestial barrier.
I appeared behind him before he finished the first word.
My palm pressed to his spine.
"Wrong mantra."
A pulse of divine wrath shot through him—not fire, not lightning—something older.
His bones turned to dust first.Then the rest followed.
He died without understanding what killed him.
THE LAST ASSASSIN LEARNS FEAR
The final one screamed,"STAY AWAY—!"
He wasn't pleading to me.He was pleading to the gods.
Pathetic.
I grabbed him by the throat and slammed him onto a tree trunk hard enough to splinter it.
"Who sent you?"
He gagged."Th-The Seventh Deity… he said your awakening threatens—"
"I threaten them?"
I leaned closer.
"Tell your masters—the real threat is that I haven't awakened fully yet."
His eyes widened.
Then I snapped his neck.
THE WORLD REALIZES HE IS RETURNING
The forest fell silent again.But not in fear.
In recognition.
Something ancient stirred in the air.Something that once bowed before me.
My sealed divinity pulsed again.
Stronger.
Clearer.
I could almost hear the chains snapping inside my soul.
Boom.
A ripple of divine energy burst outward in all directions.Across the empire.Across the divine realm.Across the High Thrones' domain.
Somewhere far above—
Gods turned their heads.
Some trembled.Some panicked.Some cursed the day they betrayed me.
A whisper echoed across dimensions:
"He's returning."
THE FINAL MESSAGE TO HEAVEN
I raised my blood-stained hand toward the sky.
The moonlight bent around it.
"Heaven took everything from me," I said softly."My name. My throne. My life."
A faint smile touched my lips—cold, sharp.
"It's time I take everything back."
A crimson streak tore across the sky—the first omen of my ascension.
Rogue Ascendant.The Forgotten Sovereign.The Returned Calamity.
Whatever they call me—
They'll kneel all the same.