Days bled into nights, and nights bled back into days — an endless rhythm, with the cold metal of Oath binder
Their journey took them across nations already conquered by gods:
- Vastoria
- Ignis
- Aquaria
- Countless others, each chained by a different divine tyrant.
- Ignis
When they finally approached the borders of Aethelburg
Chronos’s rule stretched like a scar across the land.
His fingers tightened around Raikiri.
he thought.
He glanced sideways at Dryas… and the contrast felt unreal.
She didn’t walk — the forest walked with her.
Trees bowed to shield her from sun.
Roots curled to offer seats.
Animals approached her with offerings like children running to their mother.
Sometimes, she reminded him of Chloe, from the time before Chronos came.
“Hey, Dryas,” Arlen muttered, feigning his usual cold tone. “You want freedom? Help me kill the other gods. Tell me their powers. After that, I’ll let you go.”
Dryas smiled softly, brushing a leaf that fluttered into her palm.
“How about I bring you some fresh fruits instead?”
She refused every time.
Not with arrogance.
But with a gentleness Arlen had no idea how to counter.
More than three weeks
They eventually reached a forest bordering LumenaGoddess of Love — Ianthe
Arlen stopped.
“We’ll camp here tonight.”
Dryas nodded—then suddenly froze as a squirrel scrambled up her arm, chittering frantically.
She placed a hand on Arlen’s wrist.
“Arlen… we’re surrounded. Soldiers from Lumena. Many of them.”
Arlen instantly drew Raikiri.
“People? Not a god?” he muttered. “Fine. Let’s see what these love worshippers want.”
Figures emerged through the trees — rifles raised.
“There he is! The God Slayer!”
“For our Goddess Ianthe! For her blessed newborn child!”
“Open fire!”
Bullets tore through the trees.
Animals scattered in terror — and Dryas threw herself in front of them, taking the shots with her own body. But she didn’t want to fight back even after this.
“Stop!” she pleaded. “They’re just humans! Don’t kill them!” she begged to Arlen.
Arlen clenched his teeth.
He cut them all down.
Raikiri would slice through their rifles like grass.
But… hearing Dryas scream like that…
Something in him stalled.
He flipped Raikiri and used the hilt instead, knocking aside the closest soldiers.
Their faces came into the moonlight — and Arlen froze.
Those eyes.
Blank.
Empty.
Devoted.
He had seen them once before — on the day Chronos brainwashed his entire home.
“These bastards…” Arlen hissed.
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“That goddess Ianthe is brainwashing them—just like Chronos.”
Dryas, distressed, lifted more animals into her arms.
Arlen grabbed her hand.
“Dryas! Let your creatures flee — we’re escaping too!”
She nodded, and the forest creatures scurried off under her command.
The two ran deeper into the darkness until—
A roaring waterfall cut off their escape.
Mist rose into the sky. The drop was so deep they couldn’t see the bottom.
Dryas bit her lip.
“I can’t reach the trees here… I can’t grow anything to break our fall.”
Behind them, torches and rifle-lights drew closer.
Arlen glanced at Dryas.
Then at the soldiers.
“Damn it. No choice.”
He wrapped one arm around her waist — and leaped.
Arlen drifted back into consciousness with a dull ache in his bones.
A ragged ceiling greeted him — cracked wood, faint mold, broken beams.
Then—
A pair of trembling arms wrapped around him.
“Arlen!”
Dryas’s voice shook, thick with relief.
“You finally woke up… You were unconscious for days. Why did you protect me? You… you said you hated gods.”
Arlen blinked, confused — then the memory slammed into him.
The cliff.
The bullets.
The fall.
And the way he’d instinctively pulled Dryas tight into his arms — turning his back to the impact so she wouldn’t break.
His chest tightened.
“I… don’t know,” he muttered. “More importantly — where are we?”
Dryas exhaled shakily.
“We’re in the southern slums of Lumena. Some people found us after the fall and carried you here. You were… bleeding everywhere. I told them we were adventurers.”
A few minutes later, the door creaked open.
An elderly man stepped inside — thin, frail, but warm-eyed.
“So you’re finally awake,” he said gently. “Welcome, travellers. You’re safe.”
Arlen sat up.
“Thanks for saving us. Where exactly is this place?”
The old man’s smile was soft — and unbearably sad.
“This is the slums, lad. The place where our goddess Ianthe sends everyone she deems… unworthy of love.”
He gestured outside.
“The blind. The crippled. The sick. The old. People she considers ‘ugly and spoiled goods.’ This is where we go, forgotten and unwanted.”
Dryas froze — horror widening her eyes.
“How… how could she do that?”
The old man chuckled hollowly.
“We’re used to it. But please — stay with us as long as you need. We don’t have much, but we’ll share what we can.”
Arlen and Dryas stepped outside shortly after — and the reality punched them both in the gut.
Broken homes.
Starving children.
Old men coughing blood in makeshift blankets.
Wounds untreated.
Bodies trembling in the cold.
Dryas covered her mouth, a tear slipping down her cheek.
Arlen placed a hand on her shoulder.
“This is the true face of gods. Not your version — theirs. You’re an anomaly among monsters. So stop crying. Help them.”
And they did.
Dryas grew medicine-bearing herbs that saved dozens.
She fed children with fruits that sprouted from her hands.
She taught them to read and count.
Arlen rebuilt half the village using demon strength, hunted game for food, and silently protected the weak from bandits and beasts.
But every night, after everyone slept…
Arlen slipped away into the forest alone.
He sat in the dark, planning.
Strategizing.
Plotting a way to kill Ianthe — and her newborn divine heir.
One night, Dryas followed him.
“Arlen… what are you doing?”
“Planning,” he replied coldly. “The Goddess of Love and her newborn brat will be the next ones to die.”
Dryas gripped his shoulder — eyes filled with dread.
“Stop this! Killing won’t solve anything!”
Arlen snapped.
For once, his voice thundered louder than Raikiri ever could.
“OPEN YOUR EYES!
These people are like this because of —your fellow goddess!
She brainwashed soldiers to kill for her.
She exiled innocent humans for being blind or crippled.
She threw whole families into the slums!”
His fists clenched.
“And you STILL want to protect that bitch?”
Dryas’s expression twisted — pain, sorrow, and desperation clashing in her eyes.
“I-I don’t know why she does this… but if I talk to her — maybe she’ll understand! Maybe she’ll help them!”
Arlen stepped closer, voice cold as steel.
“You’re the Goddess of Nature, Dryas. The ‘kindest’ of them all.”
He spat the words.
“But tell me — what kind of kindness lets your children tear each other apart?”
Dryas flinched.
“You stand by while wolves rip open deer, while plague kills forests, while animals starve and freeze. You preach kindness, but your world bleeds every second. A nature whose rules says – eat or be eaten – only the fittest will survive. You’re no saint — You preach kindness, but you are a tyrant weighted by your own law.
He leaned in.
“Or maybe… you’re just a scared kid who can’t face the truth.”
Dryas’s eyes widened — then broke.
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
Her voice trembled.
“I feel every shiver. Every fear. Every dying scream.
I hear them all, Arlen.
But I can’t break the Law of Exchange — the law Aethel created.
Life survives life consumes life.”
She sobbed.
“If I stop the cycle, the world ends. Total stagnation. Total death.
So all I can do is save as many lives as I can… from hatred… from cruelty.
That’s all I can do.”
Arlen turned away.
He had no answer.
“I’m done listening to you,” he said, stepping past her.
Dryas reached after him—
—but a golden radiance suddenly flooded the forest behind them.
Warm.
Commanding.
Unbearably divine.
A tall figure materialized — skin glowing, eyes full of serene judgment.
Dryas gasped.
“No… not here…”
The man’s gaze settled on Arlen.
“So you are the God Slayer. The murderer of Helios and Lumen. The defiler of divine flesh.”
He raised a hand — light swirling around his fingers like molten halos.
“I am here to take your life.”