Arlen arrived before the Sanctuary Gate
This time, he did not call Cornea.
He did not rely on Nyx.
He didn’t even
of them.
Space folded obediently, and he stepped through on his own.
No warmth followed him.
No presence at his back.
Only silence.
Inside the Sanctuary, the Gatekeeper
Solon stood at the centre of the endless white expanse, staff grounded, expression unreadable—unchanged, as he had always been.
“Welcome back, God Slayer,” Solon said calmly.
“It seems you now slaughter allies and enemies alike, without distinction.”
His gaze pierced through Arlen—not his body, but the beneath it.
“What made you change your heart?”
Arlen did not hesitate.
“I came here,” he said flatly,
“to destroy the Throne of Aethel.”
A declaration.
Spoken before the being who had guarded it for eternity.
For a moment—
Solon did not respond.
The universe did
Pressure crashed down from every direction.
The ground beneath Arlen’s feet and the sky above his head folded inward, as if existence itself sought to crush him into nothing.
It was not killing intent.
It was judgment
Bones screamed. Space groaned.
Any lesser god would have ceased to exist in an instant.
But Arlen did not bend.
After devouring divine blood, forming countless blood bonds, wielding relics that defied causality itself—
he stood.
Not equal to Solon.
But strong enough to remain standing.
Raikiri and Soul Eater ignited in his hands.
He lunged—
—and the world snapped.
Pain came
awareness.
Arlen looked down.
His left leg was gone
Not severed.
Not destroyed.
Erased.
“You dare move,” Solon’s voice thundered,
“after making such an outrageous declaration?”
Arlen’s body slammed into the ground.
His leg began to regenerate—slowly. Painfully.
A fleeting thought crossed his mind.
They would have rushed to heal him.
A useless thought.
A dead thought.
His expression hardened.
Arlen pushed himself up, meeting Solon’s gaze.
It was then he understood.
No matter where he moved—
he was already within range.
The Sanctuary itself was Solon’s domain.
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There was no blind spot.
No opening.
He exhaled softly.
“As expected,” Arlen said.
“I can never defeat you.”
Solon’s eyes narrowed.
“So you admit it.”
Arlen shook his head.
“No.”
He turned slightly.
“That’s why,” he continued,
“I’m not the one you’ll be fighting.”
Solon’s eyes widened.
“What—”
A roar tore through the Sanctuary.
A dragon of raging water
Solon dismissed it instantly—
—but when he turned—
He froze.
Standing between them was the one being he could not bring himself to strike.
“Tethys—”
She hovered there, trembling but resolute, eyes burning with determination far beyond her small frame.
“Arlen,” she shouted without looking back,
“go ahead!”
Her voice did not waver.
“I’ll stop him!”
Solon staggered back a step.
The fury that had crushed worlds moments ago vanished from his face, replaced by something far more fragile.
“Tethys…” His voice cracked for the first time in ages.
“What are you doing, little one? Why are you helping ? Why are you standing against a primordial creator?”
Tethys stepped forward.
Water surged around her in violent waves, dragon after dragon crashing toward the Gatekeeper—not to defeat him, but to hold him back
“I don’t know what’s right,” she shouted, her small body shaking,
“I don’t know what’s wrong!”
Another wave burst forth.
“But I’ll trust him till the very end!”
“Just like Big Sister Dryas did!”
That was all.
Solon’s face drained of colour.
Did he truly have to fight her too?
The child he had watched grow, laughed with, scolded, protected—
the one he loved like a granddaughter?
“Tethys—stop—”
“Now die, Grandfather Solon!”
Another water dragon formed in her trembling hands—
—and vanished.
It didn’t disperse.
It didn’t shatter.
It simply ceased to exist
Tethys froze.
“…What?”
She raised her hands again.
“Water—answer my call! Please!”
Nothing.
Not a ripple.
Not a droplet.
Not even moisture in the air responded.
Silence.
Then Arlen’s voice reached her back—calm, cold, absolute.
“The water followed you because it to,” he said, walking past her.
“You lost your divinity. And still, it stayed.”
His footsteps echoed as he approached the Throne of Aethel
“But now,” he continued,
“it has abandoned you.”
Tethys’s breath hitched.
“You’re not a goddess anymore,” Arlen said.
“Because you disappointed Water’s expectations.”
She turned toward him, disbelief tearing through her chest.
“This… this is your consequence, Tethys,” he went on without slowing.
“For following me.”
“For refusing to see that what I was doing… was wrong.”
Her legs gave out.
Tethys collapsed onto her knees.
“What…?”
Her voice trembled.
“So trusting you… was wrong?”
She tried to cry.
No tears came.
Even her tears—
even the last water left in her—
had abandoned her.
Solon turned back toward Arlen—
—but it was already too late.
Arlen had reached it.
The Throne of Aethel
The seat of the primordial being.
The source of all divinity.
The origin of immortality itself.
“Don’t do it, Arlen!” Solon roared.
His voice cracked through the sanctuary, raw with fear.
“If you destroy that throne, the external gods invade! Without immortality, even mortals will be slaughtered! This universe will not survive!”
Arlen turned.
Raikiri rested calmly in his hand.
“It seems you’ve grown narrow-minded, Gatekeeper,” he said flatly.
“Look at the borders of this universe.”
Solon’s eyes widened.
His awareness spread—
—and what he saw stole the strength from his legs.
A barrier.
A vast, endless wall of water
A barrier just like Aquaria.
Perfect. Absolute.
Unbreakable to anything that lacked the authority of water.
Understanding crashed into him.
Memories surfaced.
After Oneiros had died, Arlen had spoken quietly to Tethys.
“Tethys,” he had said,
“you’ll need power for your final mission.”
She had tilted her head, confused.
“What mission needs that much power?”
Arlen had answered without hesitation.
“I’m turning the entire universe into Aquaria.”
Her breath had caught.
“A… a barrier across the cosmos?”
“That would require devouring gods…”
“I’ve already drunk the blood of many,” Arlen replied.
“Make a blood pact with me. You’ll gain the strength you need.”
And they had exchanged blood.
Arlen gained dominion over water.
And Tethys—
For her little body the pain was worse than death.
The power was too much for her small mortal body.
Her brain ruptured.
Her organs failed.
Her skin split as divinity tried to tear her apart from the inside.
Arlen had sealed her inside a sphere of water, binding her shattered body together.
She screamed.
For nearly an hour.
Until her body adapted.
Until it endured.
And then—she had begun her work, no complains.
Now Solon finally understood.
The scale.
The madness.
The resolve.
Raikiri plunged into the Throne of Aethel.
The sanctuary screamed.
Before the final blow could fall—
“HOW DARE YOU KILL OUR QUEEN!”
A shadow tore through the ceiling.
Nyx.
She descended like judgment itself.
“I was waiting for you,” Arlen said softly.
He turned toward her.
“You were the last piece.”
His voice carried no fear. Just pain of acceptance.
“You loved me.
You sacrificed for me.
And all I ever did… was betray you.”
He stepped forward.
“So let me end like this.”
“I have to die by your hands, Nyx.”
Her fangs pierced his heart.
He didn’t resist.
Not even a little.
Their bodies fell together—
crashing onto the shattering throne beneath them.
With his final strength, Arlen threw Raikiri.
“Tethys!”
The blade flew.
The impact tore her free from the sanctuary, sending her spiralling away.
“No—!” Solon shouted.
He rushed after her, abandoning everything else.
“Go on,” Arlen whispered, arms wrapping around Nyx as the world collapsed.
“Live… as mortals.”
He smiled.
A real one.
Nyx hugged him back; she has exerted all her strength to even come this far, not even the strength to cry remained in her. She just rested her head on his chest.
Aura’s voice echoed inside him.
“Goodbye, sweet boy.”
The throne broke.
Arlen’s body broke with it.
The released power—
the collapse of divinity itself—
erased everything it touched.
And in that instant—
Immortality vanished from the universe.
Forever.
