Solon laughedmillenniums of dust, wisdom, and mourning
“Revenge, is it? Against the God of Time himself.”
His amusement faded into something almost tender.
“Young one, you burn bright. Warm blood, sharp eyes… it’s impressive that despite being human, the path you’ve walked hasn’t broken you.”
Then—
His ancient eyes sharpened like two blades drawn from rusted scabbards.
“But tell me, boy… do you truly believe is the only thing inside that heart of yours? Would you dare open it to an old man who has watched universes come and go?”
Arlen staggered a step back, breath catching.
“H-How… how do you know all that?”
Solon only chuckled, an old, patient, infuriating sound.
“I know what the Gate knows. And the Gate knows all who pass through it. But I am not asking for knowledge, lad. are the one who needs it.”
Arlen tried to steel himself.
“Just start the trial. I’m here for one thing—the Soul Eater. That’s it.”
Solon’s demeanor softened… for a heartbeat.
Then he vanished.
A blink later he stood right in front of Arlen
“The way you stand right now—clouded, shaking, pretending to be certain—you will win.”
His voice echoed through the vast hall.
“You are taking the One Hundred Seventy-Eight TrillionBillionMillionThousand
A pause.
“And only have ever succeeded.”
Arlen’s breath left him in a sharp gasp.
Solon stepped back, folding his hands behind him as if this conversation bored him.
“So humor this old fossil. What else stirs inside your chest besides revenge?”
Arlen clenched his fists.
Silence stretched.
He tried to answer with fury, but the words snagged in his throat.
Chronos.
His family.
Darian’s corpse.
The angels’ blades.
The blind devotion.
The betrayal.
The slaughter.
Yes… the rage was there. Always there.
But someone else’s face intruded—
Cornea.
Dangerous, predatory, terrifying… yet she had given him shelter when his world collapsed. She had believed in his rage, believed in . She shared her blood, risked her life tied to his, held his trembling humanity together with clawed hands.
The gods had robbed her freedom just like they had destroyed his life.
Arlen inhaled sharply.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“My reason is still revenge. But it’s not just mine anymore.”
He stepped forward, voice cracking but steady.
“It’s revenge too. The Demon Queen’s. The freedom she lost. The chains the gods forced on her world. I’ll tear it all down.”
His eyes burned.
“I’ll destroy every false god in existence.”
Then he raised his voice so it echoed like a battle cry across the endless chamber—
“I want to become a GOD SLAYER.”
Solon laughed
“Haha! Ultimately everything returns to revenge. But this time—”
his eyes softened,
“—you were honest. And honesty carries far more weight inside this Sanctuary than you think.”
The warmth vanished.
“Now then, boy… let us begin the trial.”
Arlen swallowed, raising his stance. Muscles tense. Breath steady.
But Solon lifted a hand in amusement.
“If you think you will be fighting , you are even more foolish than I assumed. You are far too weak. A collision with me would kill you so thoroughly even my Gate wouldn’t remember your name.”
He tapped a finger into the air.
A golden sphere of light
“This will be your opponent.”
Before Arlen could even ask—
“Catch this sphere within six Earth hours,” Solon said. “Bring it back to me. That is your trial… God Slayer
He flicked the ball upward.
It shot into the air like a fired bullet—striking the ceiling barrier and ricocheting off, instantly moving into a chaotic, zig-zag blur
Arlen locked his eyes on it.
“Catching it means I pass, right?”
Solon nodded, lips curled into a wickedly amused smirk.
Arlen sprinted.
He leapt, slid, reached—
The ball ricocheted just centimeters beyond his fingertips.
His breath began to tear at his lungs.
Fifteen minutes in, he stumbled, panting.
“What’s wrong, boy?” Solon called lazily. “Do you not desire the Soul Eater? Or is revenge merely a hobby of yours?”
Arlen felt rage scrape at his ribs—but he forced himself still.
Think. Calm. Focus.
His mind flashed back to Nyx’s arena.
The monsters.
The endless deaths.
The crushing, devouring, ripping.
And the lesson:
Mindless creatures move only as their environment allows them. Predict the space, not the beast.
He studied the walls.
Angles. Slopes. Distance. Speed.
He chased the ball again— “its gonna bounce off right”, he predicted.
its trajectory clear for a fraction of a second,
his hand closed in—
SIZZLE—!
A spike of agony shot up his arm. His skin smoked.
The sphere had burned him on contact.
Solon smiled.
“Ah. I forgot to mention—this orb is burning from the inside. Holding it will feel like gripping a starved coal fresh from Hell’s furnace.”
Arlen hissed through his teeth, wrapping a shred of his torn shirt around the seared flesh.
He ran again.
One hour.
Two.
Three.
Four.
His breathing sharpened.
His movements refined.
His senses swelled—demonic blood pulsing through him like wildfire.
Finally—
He saw it.
A perfect line.
The ball struck the wall. Bounced back straight. The next wall was farther away.
A gap.
His chance.
Arlen lunged, hand open, position perfect—
But just before contact—
FWIP!
A glowing teleportation sigil opened in front of the sphere. It vanished… and instantly reappeared behind him.
Solon clasped his hands behind his back, voice amused.
“The trial was getting too easy. Let us raise the difficulty.”
Arlen froze.
Then the world around him changed.
Invisible walls shimmered into existence.
Teleportation circles bloomed like deadly flowers.
The sphere accelerated, doubled, tripled in speed—
its path becoming a kaleidoscope of chaos, impossible to predict.
And then—
WHAM—!
The sphere smashed into Arlen’s ribs. Burning pain exploded through him.
He staggered.
Another hit.
Another.
And every impact wasn’t just pain—
It was memory
Chronos’ mocking laughter.
His parents’ blind prayers.
The angels’ blades slicing through flesh.
Darian’s dying scream.
Alden’s smile as he executed his own brother.
Chloe’s serene voice telling him he needed “salvation.”
Each hit tore a fresh wound inside his heart.
Solon watched, ancient eyes gleaming, voice echoing.
“This is also part of the trial, boy.”
Another hit—Arlen’s knees buckled.
CRACK—
his back slammed against the wall.
“You must overcome not only the sphere…” Solon said slowly,
“…but the weight of the trauma that shackles your heart.”
Arlen gasped, vision blurring into static and ghosts.
“Now then, half-human… half-demon…”
The sphere circled him like a vulture made of sunlight.
“Show this old man—
can you conquer your broken heart?
