"Checkmate," Raiking remarked with a composed demeanor as their game reached its anticipated conclusion.
The Dragon King contemplated the stone pieces, still grappling with Raiking's profound question: Should I behave like a deity, or like a mortal?
Opting for 'like a deity' would mean acknowledging a fundamental error—that his harsh and vindictive actions against the Phoenix Kin a millennium ago were unjustified.
Choosing 'like a mortal' would involve stubbornly adhering to his philosophy, asserting that his excessive punishment was justified. Following this path would prompt Raiking to respond with mortal vengeance, unleashing the suspended oceans and obliterating his entire kingdom instantly.
"Was I ever truly meant to win this?" the Dragon King mused aloud, his reptilian eyes locked on the board.
"Winning and losing isn't everything," Raiking responded, his tone devoid of any mockery. "Sometimes, merely observing the board as it stands provides a clarity that neither victory nor defeat can offer."
The Dragon King examined the completed chess match between them. Throughout the encounter, he had never held a position of advantage. Each move he made was inherently flawed, bringing his pieces closer to inevitable destruction.
The Demigod released a long, heavy sigh. "Very well," he conceded, gradually rising and smoothing his regal robes. "Until your disciple is prepared to confront me... I will refrain from harming the Phoenix Kin."
As those final words left his lips, his physical projection began to disintegrate into dust and stone. The debris was swiftly carried by the high-altitude winds, drifting back toward the distant Dragon Palace. Yet, before his presence vanished entirely, his resonant voice echoed once more between the towering walls of the hovering tsunamis.
"...Fate, will determine which of us was truly in the wrong."
With the Dragon King officially in retreat, Raiking's void-black eyes moved from the vacant chessboard, directing his abyssal gaze toward the dormant volcano where Libinea was engaged in a monumental reconciliation of her own.
---
[Location - Ancestral Temple of the Phoenix Clan]
Libinea found herself in a state of profound disbelief. She had presented every conceivable logical argument to the unyielding altar. She had articulated her complete relinquishment of the Phoenix Pearl's power, thus liberating her people from the relentless cycle of divine hunter aggression. She had even proposed a treaty to make the Phoenix Kin a vassal state of the Guild, ensuring them unmatched divine protection long after her reign had ended.
Haven't I done enough?
Libinea had endured relentless trials during her training in the formidable realm of the Void. She had battled and vanquished foes that no previous Phoenix Queen would have dared to face. Most importantly, she had rigorously suppressed her own emotions, sacrificing her love to remove any distractions that might hinder her quest for vengeance against the divine forces.
Why, then, do you remain silent? Must this end in bloodshed? Do I truly have to rend this Crest from my very soul just to earn the right to live my own life?
Yet, the silence persisted.
She struggled to maintain her composure. If true deities existed to be worshipped in this mortal realm, Nirvana was the undisputed deity of the Phoenix Kin. She had no desire to show any disrespect.
Yet, you leave me no choice, she thought. Slowly, her trembling hand reached toward the glowing Azure Queen Crest embedded within her chest. The moment her fingertips grazed the ethereal feathers, scorching her flesh with Azure fire, an ancient, resonant voice finally reverberated through the temple walls.
"My child... must you truly do this?"
Nirvana, Libinea realized. The profound, primordial weight of the voice caused her hand to halt, mere millimeters from tearing away the Crest. "If it is what I must do," she replied resolutely, her voice unwavering.
Nirvana paused for a tense beat. "You possess the talent and unparalleled strength to make your Clan more prosperous than ever before," the entity reasoned. "If you abandon them now, the Phoenix Kin will never be able to soar as high on their own."
"When we were once closest to the sun, we fell hardest from grace," Libinea fiercely retorted. "Perhaps a quiet, peaceful existence in the shadows is precisely what the Phoenix Kin should seek now. But regardless... I will not be the one to lead them in either direction."
"Since you believe your choice is definitive," Nirvana's voice rumbled, causing the molten veins of the temple to pulse violently with light, "I must show you something first. Whatever you decide after witnessing it, I shall not question."
Suddenly, Libinea felt her mastered Law of Time forcibly drawn from her core. The golden energy ascended, merging seamlessly with the glowing feathers suspended from the temple ceiling.
"I possess the divine power to reincarnate our kin—the domain closest to Time Magic," Nirvana echoed. "Meanwhile, your Law was woven from the very threads of time itself. Together, we shall achieve what neither of us can alone. We will journey to the future... a timeline where you have successfully abdicated the throne."
Nirvana allowed Libinea no opportunity to refute the daunting prospect.
Instantly, a blinding, celestial light engulfed the entire hall. When Libinea's vision finally cleared, she was no longer standing in the ancient, volcanic temple. She was elsewhere, in a place she knew all too well.
---
[Location - The Guild's Domain]
[Timeline - 9 Years Into The Future]
The grand halls were enveloped in an unsettling stillness. The entire expanse of the Guild's Domain was cloaked in an oppressive silence.
As Libinea moved through the extensive corridors into the main courtyard, she realized that the once lively estate had transformed into a desolate ghost town. The usual chaos created by the Fairy Queen and King was absent, as was the stubborn Storm Dragon, who often challenged Dia'Tia to a sparring match. Avorlas and Bellavius were not debating which mortal pub they would visit next.
"This is wrong..." she murmured.
If they were not here, there was only one other place they could be. She pushed open the massive main gates to leave the Guild, heading directly for the grand cliff edge—the very precipice where they had stood to defeat Dawnfall's army a few years earlier.
"So this is where you all—"
She halted, immediately sensing something was terribly wrong.
Nobody spoke, nobody smiled. They didn't even turn to acknowledge her presence; their solemn gazes were fixed on the ground.
Libinea cautiously approached the gathering. She recognized the familiar, formidable faces of the Guild, alongside a few new, immensely powerful figures she had never encountered before. New members? she wondered, before finally managing to see past the crowd to understand what they were focused on.
It was Raiking, kneeling silently before a pristine marble tomb.
Libinea felt her heart sink into despair. Among all gathered here, one particular person was absent—someone who should have been exactly eleven years old by now.
No... it can't be. She moved closer, her golden eyes fixated on the deeply engraved name on the stone.
"How can this be...?" she gasped, her voice faltering.
Before she could even demand an explanation, Ezmelral stepped beside the kneeling God of Death. The Demigod gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "We are ready."
In an instant, the very moment those words left her lips, the Guild members began to disappear into the void, one by one. Panic seizing her, Libinea tracked their lingering energy signatures. Transforming into a streak of temporal ash, she forcefully followed them, materializing in a place she never anticipated:
Space.
The entire Guild stood suspended in the frigid vacuum, silently gazing down at their home planet below. Breaking the oppressive tension, Raiking slowly raised his arm toward the glowing world. He whispered a single, ominous line that Libinea never imagined the indifferent God of Death would ever say.
"Since the cosmos refused to let her live... then nothing else will."
The planet below them visibly trembled. In mere moments, Maryal's massive monumental tomb violently wrenched itself from the planet's surface, soaring through the atmosphere until it hovered in the dead space directly above them. Raiking lifted his hand, channeling his abyssal Void magic directly into the stone.
For a brief, agonizing moment, Libinea noticed his hand tremble. It was just a millimeter, but it was enough to reveal to her that the God of Death was waging a catastrophic internal battle—a battle that would be decisively settled in the moment he took action.
And take action he did. To Libinea's utter, paralyzing shock, Raiking violently propelled the monument forward, sending it hurtling toward the planet like an apocalyptic meteor.
"What are you—!"
It was too late. Before she could even finish her scream, a cataclysmic shockwave of sheer, destructive energy tore through the silent galaxy. In a single, blinding flash, billions of souls were instantly erased from existence.
"Go," Raiking commanded, his voice stripped of all warmth.
One by one, the Guild members streaked off in different directions across the stars. Their apocalyptic intent was made terrifyingly clear by Raiking's absolute decree: the cosmos had just officially unleashed the God of Death.