"I can't take it anymore, Belthor," sweat poured down Zarian's forehead.
"Stop whining, we're almost done," Belthor said as he spun around. With a halberd he had materialized using mana, he swept across the ground, knocking back several of the shadows attacking him and leaving a deep crack in the earth.
Then, with cold eyes, he clenched his fist again. This time, instead of causing an earthquake, the ground not far from him began to shift like quicksand. Massive spikes rose from the earth, attempting to engulf the Transcendents within it.
Elara watched everything while holding Cassandra on her shoulder, who could barely stand. Her master's eyes, though exhausted, showed relief—and something else hidden behind that gaze.
The princess sighed, but as she saw Belthor sweep away another large group of Transcendents, her steady legs began to tremble.
"Cassian..." she whispered under her breath.
Meanwhile, Zarian was having a much harder time than his companion, though he was still holding on. One-on-one he had no problems, but handling three of them at once was pushing him to his limit.
At that moment, a missile made of earth pierced through the body of one of his attackers. Zarian glanced at Belthor and sighed in relief, but quickly refocused, narrowly dodging and counterattacking with force.
Time passed, and although it seemed like the shadows were dwindling, something strange began to happen: the Transcendents they thought had died started rising again, healing at a terrifying speed.
Finally, Belthor's brow furrowed as he noticed this. His eyes darkened as he realized they couldn't win this fight.
"How the hell?!" he shouted in anger.
But then a voice echoed across the battlefield. The shadows, as if listening to their master, suddenly stopped.
"Blood of the Origin."
A bored, flat voice sounded, as if casually explaining what Belthor wanted to know. Cassian had arrived.
The god searched for the source of the voice and finally saw the man who had spoken.
A face too perfect to be real, but that wasn't what mattered. The man's eyes sent a chill down his spine, as if infinity itself hid within them.
Seeing that the newcomer was heading toward the two women they wanted to kill, Belthor's expression grew even darker.
"Who are you? You're not from this world, are you?" Belthor seemed to realize.
Cassian shook his head.
"No. You caught on quickly. It seems you know something..."
The man, who possessed the power of a God in this inferior world, snorted.
"Are we going to die?"
"I don't know yet," Cassian replied. He glanced at Elara, then gave Cassandra a cold look. "What do you think?"
The masochistic princess nodded immediately, while the ancestor remained silent, giving him only an uncertain look.
Cassian turned toward the two men—one with a serious expression and the other in a deplorable state—and sighed.
"Why humans?" Cassian asked.
"Huh?"
"The corrosion in the capital, the one spread by the Vitalis. Why did you use humans?"
"Why not? You seem like someone who at least has an idea of what we want to do, so why wouldn't we?" Belthor shot back.
Cassian shook his head, his eyes looking dim.
"I don't think the person you serve would like what you did. She can feel the difference, you know? A soul murdered by an intelligent species—especially by someone close to them—has a different flavor."
"I don't know what you're talking about. It's true they always told us to gather mana beasts to apply the corrosion, but they also told us to hurry with the soul count. What better way than this?"
But Cassian didn't respond. He paused for a moment, and as if reaching a conclusion, he finally said:
"It seems you don't know much."
Belthor took a step back upon hearing those words. He understood that if he was no longer useful, this man would most likely kill him—and for some reason, he didn't doubt that he could. From the moment Cassian appeared, Belthor had been terrified.
Zarian noticed the same thing, but his eyes showed only helplessness and surrender from the moment the shadows began regenerating.
"Wait," the god said. "I can serve you. I'm at the peak of power in this world, you know that, right? I'm stronger than them," he pointed at the Transcendents standing silently all around them.
"Mmm, certainly impressive. I suppose in this world, failing to break through to the immortal levels is considered an achievement," Cassian mocked. "But even so, you're comparing yourself to them. Unlike you, they have no will of their own. They're nearly immortal despite their low level and possess blind loyalty. Besides..."
At that moment, Sylvia Sterling arrived at the scene.
Her expression was worried but determined. Seeing the place and the crowd of shockingly powerful figures, she raised her eyebrows in surprise. But the moment she saw her man, that surprise quickly faded.
"Cassian..."
"This is ending, Sylvia. I'm not sure why you came."
"I just wanted to confirm something."
She looked at Belthor and Zarian, studying them, wanting to know if the grandmother of Seraphine and Julius—her sister—had died at the hands of either of them.
Belthor looked at the woman with resignation.
Sylvia's eyes darkened, and flames began to surround her. The fire, which had grasped a fragment of a law thanks to Cassian, burned with power. The mana of a Transcendent, yet seeming far greater, manifested in the flames and surged toward the "God."
But although Belthor had resigned himself to his fate, he wasn't going to let himself die at the hands of anyone other than the man who terrified him to his very soul.
A wall of earth rose to block Sylvia's attack. The shocking part was that the barrier couldn't stop the flames—or at least not for long.
The wall began to melt the instant it clashed with the attack, and the heat started reaching him. Sweat ran down his forehead. He looked toward Zarian, hoping he would understand what he meant, but Zarian was sitting on the ground, staring blankly ahead, lost.
Belthor clenched his fists tightly.
The earth trembled again, but not for long.
A snap sounded. The fire was extinguished, the earthen wall vanished, and the movement he was attempting stopped as well.
Both men were dragged and forced to stand rigid side by side, unable to move.
Sylvia clearly didn't like this and shot an angry look at Cassian. He frowned and sighed helplessly.
"Is this because of what we talked about last time?"
She nodded.
"Mmm, I understand..." His eyes fixed on the two men. "It seems luck isn't on your side."
He raised his hand, but was interrupted:
"I want to do it myself. I want to personally avenge my sister, Cassian. I'm strong enough to defeat that man on my own."
But he didn't seem entirely convinced...
He glanced back and forth between Belthor and Sylvia several times, and as if finally making a decision, he replied:
"Do as you wish..."