Arlen spoke first
“We stop by the Underworld. I need Grom and Aura for this.”
Cornea flicked her fingers lazily. A portal carved open, swirling with violet screams. They stepped through — emerging before her obsidian throne.
Nyx stepped forward.
“I’ll go fetch them—”
“No.” Arlen raised a hand.
“I’ll talk to them myself. I know exactly where they are.”
Cornea gave a slow, sly smile — one that hinted pride and amusement.
“Then go. Let’s see how you command the soldiers you once tried to collar.”
Arlen descended into the training caverns — fists pounding stone, blades cleaving air, demons roaring with lethal hunger. Among them, he found what he sought.
Grom was a storm in motion — boulders swung at him like executioner’s scythes. No longer relying solely on brute force, he weaved and pivoted like a hardened warrior learning humility.
Aura hovered nearby — wings sharp as knives, her black pollen swirling in precisely controlled streams. Not a trace wasted. Discipline forged from humiliation.
They noticed Arlen.
Grom’s grin split wide — fangs and fire:
“Training hard? Of course. Next time we duel, I lose, rival!”
He slapped Arlen’s back — a friendly blow that almost cracked ribs.
Aura drifted in from behind, arms looping around his chest like silk and poison.
“And once beat you, you’ll belong to me, cute Arlen…”
Her breath brushed his ear — heat crawling under his skin.
Arlen smirked.
“Cornea might be watching.”
Aura froze. let go. Stood straight like a soldier caught stealing bread.
“Ahem. So… mission?”
Arlen crossed his arms.
“We take down Ianthe — Goddess of Love. I want your help.
But if you don’t want in — I won’t force you.”
Grom barked out a laugh.
“Force? I for this! Tell me who to smash!”
Aura winked.
“You had me at . Count me in.”
Arlen smiled beneath his seriousness — a rare hint of warmth.
They returned to the throne hall — only to freeze at the sight of Dryas.
Grom and Aura nearly fell over.
“A goddess… working with ?!”
It took time, explanation, and some disbelief, but eventually their shock settled.
Arlen paced before them, every step crisp with purpose.
His voice cut through the tension like a blade forged from resolve and hatred:
“Listen up. We hit fast, clean and precise. We divide into two units.”
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He pointed first to himself, Aura, and Dryas.
“We’re the infiltration squad. I use Null Shroud to erase our presence. Aura — your pollen will quietly drop every guard we encounter. No alarms. No witnesses. We take the newborn god from Ianthe’s chamber… and that child becomes our leash around her neck.”
Dryas flinched slightly at the word , yet she forced herself to remain steady — she chose this path too.
Arlen continued. “But Dryas gets her chance first. She will talk to Ianthe. One attempt for peace. One chance to prove gods aren’t parasites. If she succeeds and Ianthe steps down from the throne, both she and her child gets to live.”
His voice sharpened — cold enough to freeze blood.
“If she fails… we do what must be done. Ianthe dies.”
The atmosphere shifted — darker, heavier.
Aura’s wings twitched with lethal excitement.
Dryas swallowed a knot of dread.
Arlen turned toward Grom and Nyx.
“You two pull every guard to the opposite side of the city. Make them believe Hell itself has come to tear down their gates. But—”
His glare hardened with command.
“No innocent lives lost. Chaos, not slaughter.”
Grom cracked his knuckles — already thrilled.
Nyx crossed her arms, her eyes like a hawk’s ready to strike.
“And Nyx…” Arlen added, “you stay high. If any of us fall — you regenerate us instantly. No hesitation.”
He looked across his gathered allies — demons, a fallen goddess, creatures once sworn to Hell itself — and he saw something new reflected back at him: Trust.
“Remember…”
His voice lowered into a razor-sharp promise.
“…we only need one night to rewrite the fate of Heaven.”
Dryas nodded — shaky, uncertain… and yet stronger than she was yesterday.
“Then let’s go,” Arlen said, his demonic eye glowing like a star born from hatred.
Cornea leaned in, whispering low and hungry.
“I’ll watch from the shadows… entertain me, Arlen.”
She vanished into black stardust.
Arlen cracked his knuckles, eyes gleaming with cruelty and purpose.
“Alright…
Let’s go hunt the Goddess of Love.”
They came to the outskirts of the city, Lumena — a jewel of a city glittering under the moonlight — looked heavenly from above.
But on the ground?
Only perfection was allowed to exist here.
The beautiful were worshipped.
The flawed were exiled.
It was a paradise built on discarded lives.
Arlen’s voice broke the silence:
“Move. Null Shroud.
A ripple of distortion passed over the group — Arlen, Aura, and Dryas vanished from every sense.
Nyx didn’t need such relics, her stealth sharper than any gaze — she leapt to the tallest tower, silently observing everything.
Grom? Stealth wasn’t in his vocabulary.
With a roar, his greatsword smashed through Lumena’s main gate — alarms blaring, soldiers scrambling. The perfect diversion.
Inside the palace, Aura’s wings fluttered once.
Every guard collapsed like petals falling from a wilted flower.
Soon they reached the child’s chamber — a boy of six, peaceful and unaware of the cursed destiny chosen for him.
“Aura,” Arlen ordered.
Sleep pollen spread — maids dropped instantly.
Dryas gently lifted the child into her arms — a trembling softness in her eyes.
They moved — silently, perfectly — until they reached the grandest room in the castle.
The doors creaked open.
There lay Ianthe — the goddess of beauty, draped in silk and arrogance.
Surrounded by servants chosen solely for their flawless faces.
Her smile soft… but empty.
Aura’s pollen rolled into the room like invisible fog.
All attendants collapsed.
Ianthe did not.
Arlen’s presence returned — cloak dismissed.
He seized the child from Dryas, pressing Soul Eater
“Goddess of Love Ianthe,” Arlen growled, “I’m the God Slayer. Surrender. Abdicate. Or the boy dies.”
Dryas stepped forward, desperate.
“Ianthe… we were friends. Listen to me. Stop controlling mortals. Stop deciding who deserves love. Please—”
Ianthe is shocked, but not shocked enough to get up from her bed. She lifted one hand lazily, like shooing away a bothersome insect.
A single flick of her finger —
A glimmer of pink energy —
A gunshot sound splitting the air—
BANG.
The bullet of divine force pierced two hearts at once
Arlen staggered back — blood pouring from his chest.
The child’s tiny body went limp, eyes still peacefully closed.
Shock froze the room.
Arlen stared at her, breath ragged.
“You… shot your own son…?”
Ianthe brushed back her golden hair, pouting at the blood splatter on her sheets.
“Well, he was… convenient. But I’m the important one here.”
She smiled — sweet and venomous.
“I am the Goddess of Love. Mortals exist to adore me. Gods bend to my beauty. A child? I can simply ”
Dryas trembled — her world cracking open.
The embodiment of love — yet incapable of loving anything but herself.
Arlen coughed blood — a broken laugh slipping out.
“So that’s your truth… you pig.”
He is barely able to stand, the wound in his heart isn’t regenerating like usual. But his demonic eye burned — rage igniting deeper than ever.
“You. Will. Die. Bitch.”
