Cornea forced the unease clawing at her instincts back down.
No matter what he has become—
I stand with him.
That is what it means to be queen.
“We won the duel,” she said, her voice steady despite the pressure crushing the arena. “They agreed to be bound by the Oath Binder if they lost. Now they’ve broken that promise. They’re using lesser gods as shields. There are too many of them.”
Arlen didn’t respond.
He asked instead, calmly—too calmly,
“Who took my Oath Binder?”
Tethys stepped forward, guilt flickering across her small face. “I… I took it. You were dying. I thought it might help you.”
Arlen nodded once. No anger. No gratitude.
“Very well.”
He walked past them.
“Cornea,” he said without turning back, “you understand that our promise is broken, correct?”
Her eyes lowered. “Yes. And it’s my responsibility. Not your fault.”
“Good.”
His tone sharpened.
“Then don’t complain if this gets messy.”
He vanished.
Termina hadn’t even finished standing up before Arlen reached her.
No blade.
No relic.
He grabbed her arm and ripped it free
“Oath Binder.”
The relic activated.
Termina’s shattered body stiffened, her will torn out at the root. She stood—broken, enslaved.
“Kill gravity.”
Her body moved before regeneration could even begin.
Barys barely had time to register what was happening before Termina’s blade crashed into him. His control over gravity faltered—
—and Astrea was gone.
She reappeared behind him in a flash of distorted space and drove her fist into his face.
Before Barys could fall—
Arlen was already there.
“Oath Binder.”
Another chain snapped into place.
Another god became property.
Cornea and Tethys could only watch.
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Barys’ dominion collapsed. Lesser gods screamed as their orders unravelled—then died one by one. No mercy. No speeches. Only execution.
The enslaver became the enslaved.
“Termina. Barys.” Arlen’s voice cut through the chaos. “Contain Echo and Wind. Cornea, Tethys—assist. Make it a two-versus-one. Win.”
He didn’t wait for confirmation.
He walked toward the inner chambers.
The god of dreams lay sleeping.
Two lesser gods stood guard.
“You’ll serve me too,” Arlen said. “Oath—”
Reality folded
The world inverted.
Arlen stood in a vast, colourless expanse—air thick like liquid thought.
A voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere.
“Welcome to my dream domain,” it said lazily. “I am Oneiros
The god’s presence coiled around the space.
“Here, you will face your worst nightmare. If you fail… you’ll never leave.”
Silence.
Then footsteps.
Arlen turned.
Chloe stood there.
White robes. Halo intact. Wings spotless.
Her eyes were full of hatred.
“You’re a monster,” she said. “I hate you. I will worship my lord.”
Arlen stared at her but didn’t stop.
He walked straight toward her.
“Same words,” he said flatly. “Even in a dream, you don’t change.”
His hand closed around Chloe’s throat.
There was no hesitation.
No anger.
No sorrow.
Just pressure.
The dream shattered.
Reality snapped back into place.
Oneiros was torn violently from his slumber, crashing onto the arena floor, coughing as if he’d been dragged out of his own soul.
“Y–you killed her!” he screamed, panic twisting his voice. “Wasn’t she important to you?!”
Arlen didn’t answer.
“Oath Binder.”
That was all.
Chains of binding carved themselves into the god of dreams’ existence. His resistance collapsed instantly. As Arlen dragged him forward like discarded refuse, the remaining external gods fell one after another—gravity crushed, echoes silenced, wind torn apart by its own currents.
It didn’t take an hour.
It didn’t even take strategy.
No genius.
No heroic struggle.
Just ruthless execution
“Cornea,” Arlen said without emotion.
“Tethys.”
“Kill them all.”
Cornea froze.
Her instincts screamed.
“But—”
“I’ll do it.”
Tethys stepped forward.
A water dragon rose behind her—silent, massive, merciless.
Astrea rushed between them.
“WAIT!”
She spread her arms desperately. “Don’t kill them! Please! We them! They’re the only thing keeping the external threats in check!”
Her voice cracked—not with pride, but fear.
And that—
That was exactly what Arlen had been waiting for.
“Very well,” he said.
The dragon stilled.
“I won’t kill them.”
Astrea exhaled shakily—then stiffened as Arlen continued.
“In return, you will do me one favour without complain.”
Silence.
Astrea’s eyes widened slowly.
Chronos.
She understood in an instant.
This had never been about slaughter.
This had been coercion.
He never intended to wipe them out—
only to corner her until refusal was impossible.
Her jaw tightened.
“…I understand,” she said quietly. “I will grant you one favour.”
Arlen turned away.
“Good. Then go to the Sanctuary. Wait for my signal.”
He pointed without looking.
“Cornea—return to the underworld. Prepare the demon army.”
“Tethys—come with me.”
Darkness slammed down in front of him.
Cornea stood there, blocking his path.
Her obsidian eyes burned with authority.
“Wait, Arlen.”
The air trembled.
“What happened to you?”
He stopped.
Slowly turned.
“You think you can command your queen?” she said coldly. “I will not move my army unless you give me a reason.”
His answer came instantly.
“We are declaring war on Heaven.”
Shock rippled through the arena.
Everyone reacted—
Everyone except Tethys.
She simply nodded.
Cornea stared at him.
“Why?” she demanded. “Have you lost your mind?!”
Arlen’s crimson eye flared.
“Yes.”
His smile was calm. Convicted.
“And insanity is exactly what I need. No—what need.”
He stepped closer.
Voice low. Poisonously gentle.
“Do you really believe the gods of Heaven are innocent in your father’s death?”
Her breath hitched.
“They watched, Cornea. They watched Mortis erase Lysander. They stood silent.”
He leaned in.
“As his daughter… isn’t it your to burn them all?”
Her heart pounded.
That war.
That hatred.
She had buried it.
Arlen unearthed it effortlessly.
“And don’t misunderstand,” he whispered. “I’m doing this for .”
Silence stretched.
Then—
“…Alright.”
Cornea’s voice trembled—then hardened.
“Let’s destroy Heaven together.”
Her darkness rose to meet his.
The decision was made.
