The new god’s arrival hit like a pressure drop before a storm — silent but crushing.

  Arlen felt his instincts scream.

  This one wasn’t a “lesser” god.

  This was someone on Cornea’s level… maybe even above.

  Still, he forced a smirk, masking the unease prickling his spine.

  “Another god here to kill me? At least introduce yourself before making death threats. It’s basic manners.”

  The man stood tall, elegant, serene — too serene for a battlefield.

  His voice flowed like tempered steel.

  “Rude of me indeed. I am Caelus — God of Life

  Dryas stepped forward.

  “Wait, Caelus—there’s something you must—”

  He raised a hand.

  The simple gesture froze her mid-sentence, not by force, but with a quiet authority that made the forest itself fall silent.

  “I asked ,” Caelus said, eyes fixed on Arlen. “Why is Dryas with you?”

  Arlen didn’t blink.

  “You want the truth? She’s my slave. Bound by Oath Binder.”

  Caelus’ eyes narrowed for the briefest moment — pain, disappointment, anger? It was hard to read. But he regained composure instantly and turned to Dryas.

  “Is that true?”

  Dryas nodded.

  “Yes… but that’s not the point. Caelus, you must understand! Ianthe—she’s doing something unforgivable to her people! I need to speak with her—”

  But Caelus simply exhaled, tired, as if he had long abandoned trying to reason with gods.

  “They know,” he admitted. “And they do not care.”

  Dryas froze.

  Caelus continued, voice low:

  “Ianthe has given birth to Chronos’s child. She plans to raise him as the new God of Wisdom. Chronos and Mortis have seized near-complete control over Heaven with their two sacred relics. My throne of Life is meaningless in comparison.”

  Arlen clenched his jaw.

  So Heaven itself was rotting from the inside.

  Dryas whispered, trembling, “You’re… taking orders from Ianthe?”

  Caelus didn’t answer.

  That silence alone was enough.

  His eyes shifted back to Arlen — who had already drawn Raikiri

  He was pointing it .

  Arlen’s gaze drifted over the slums.

  The people who saved him.

  The children Dryas fed.

  The old man Rover.

  If he fought Caelus here

  Caelus noticed.

  “No need to worry, God Slayer,” he said calmly. “I am not here to slaughter innocents. Only you.”

  He raised his hand and tore open a shining portal — a throne room made of raw life energy shimmered behind him.

  “This gate leads to my Divine Throne Chamber. Come tomorrow morning. There, we finish this.”

  He stepped inside, his voice echoing like a final verdict:

  “I don’t believe a God Slayer runs from a fight.

  I will be waiting.”

  The portal closed like a heartbeat.

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  And silence crashed upon the forest.

  Arlen let out a slow, shaky exhale as the pressure vanished with Caelus’ departure.

  His lungs finally worked again.

  “Tomorrow, huh…?”

  He turned toward the slums, walking in silence. Dryas followed a few steps behind, hands clenched, eyes still shimmering with the weight of betrayal.

  “Dryas,” Arlen said at last, “tell me more about him. About Caelus. About the Three Thrones.

  And don’t try to protect the gods anymore. By now, you’ve seen what Ianthe really is… what Chronos really is.

  So help me. Please.”

  Dryas hesitated — not out of defiance, but heartbreak.

  Still, she nodded.

  Her voice trembled.

  “The Three Divine Thrones… they are the highest seats of Heaven.

  The Throne of Time

  the Throne of Death

  and the Throne of Life

  She swallowed.

  “They belong only to the strongest gods. Not by birth — by power.”

  She continued:

  “Mortis — the God of Death — is rumoured to hold a sacred relic, though no one has ever seen it. Maybe it doesn’t even exist.

  Chronos… somehow acquired one while I was away from Heaven.”

  Her eyes darkened.

  “And Caelus… Caelus is the God of Life. He was the kindest of all. He took me in, raised me… taught me to think for myself. He could have forced me into servitude, turned me into a lesser goddess like Vulcan’s fire spirits or Boreas’ frost maidens… but he didn’t. He let me be who I wanted to be.”

  Tears welled again.

  “I can’t believe Ianthe would order him around like a servant. We used to be friends. What has she become…?”

  Her voice cracked — not like a goddess, but like a child who had been betrayed by her own family.

  Arlen watched her in silence.

  He recognized that pain.

  The pain of losing a parent.

  Of losing trust.

  Of losing the world you believed in.

  “…For now,” Arlen said softly, “we prepare for tomorrow.”

  The night passed faster than either of them expected.

  When dawn arrived, the forest was unnervingly silent — as if even the birds sensed a divine confrontation.

  Arlen rolled his shoulders, exhaled once, and stepped toward the shimmering gate Caelus had opened the previous day.

  Dryas followed, barefoot and quiet, her steps light but her heart heavy.

  Together, they passed through.

  The world twisted.

  Light bent.

  And then—

  They stood in a massive hall of golden-white marble, organic and pulsing like a living creature. Vines of pure life energy crawled across the walls, converging toward the far end where a colossal throne stood.

  On it sat Caelus

  His eyes opened.

  “Welcome,” he said, voice echoing like the heartbeat of a world.

  “To the Throne of Life.”

  His gaze lowered to Arlen.

  “God Slayer… shall we begin?”

  Caelus stepped down from the Throne of Life, each footstep carrying the weight of a universe.

  A golden staff materialized in his hand — pure, concentrated life force forged into a weapon.

  “Let us begin,” he said calmly.

  “Today is the day you die.”

  He moved first.

  The divine staff swept toward Arlen like the swing of a living planet — and Raikiri met it in a violent clash that shook the entire chamber. Sparks of lightning and life energy exploded in fractal patterns across the marble floor.

  Dryas watched with trembling hands.

  Something felt wrong.

  This wasn’t the Arlen she knew — not the blood-drunk, savage, unstoppable killer who tore through gods without blinking.

  Dodging. Blocking. Holding back.

  “He’ll get himself killed if he continues like this…” she whispered.

  She tried to step forward to help — but everything changed in the next heartbeat.

  Arlen ducked under Caelus’ staff, not to counterattack…

  …but to sprint.

  Away from Caelus.

  Away from Dryas.

  Straight toward—

  The Throne of Life.

  “What—?” Dryas gasped.

  Caelus’ calm eyes narrowed.

  Arlen reached the throne, grinning.

  “Your throne is mine.”

  He slapped his hand onto the seat—

  —and immediately recoiled as it burned him, flesh hissing, regeneration struggling against divine rejection.

  Caelus exhaled through his nose.

  “How foolish. The Divine Throne of Life accepts no one except its master. I alone command life. Did you truly think you could steal it with brute force, God Slayer?”

  But Arlen’s grin only widened.

  It twisted.

  It darkened.

  It became something evil.

  “Thanks for the info.”

  He raised Raikiri.

  “Since it rejects me… then I’ll make it stop rejecting.”

  He the throne.

  Raikiri — a sacred relic that cuts anything directed at its master — severed the throne’s defensive will. The throne shuddered, a shockwave pulsing through the room.

  Caelus froze.

  “You… you used Raikiri to counter the throne’s rejection…?”

  Arlen didn’t answer.

  He simply sat.

  Arlen sat on the Throne of Life.

  The impossible became real.

  Dryas’ breath caught.

  Caelus’ composure cracked for the first time.

  Arlen pulled out Soul Eater in one hand…

  …and an apple from the slums in the other.

  He peeled the apple slowly, deliberately, with the world-ending blade.

  “This knife can cut more than apple skin,” he whispered.

  “For example—”

  His eyes gleamed.

  “—the itself.”

  The entire room filled with suffocating tension.

  Dryas, bound by Oath Binder, could not disobey him.

  Caelus, bound by his throne, could not act without risking its destruction.

  Arlen took a bite of the fruit.

  Then leaned back on the living throne like it was a royal seat meant for him.

  “Now then,” he said with a devil’s smile,

  “let’s make this interesting.”

  His voice dripped with sweet poison.

  “God of Life.

  Goddess of Nature.”

  He pointed Soul Eater at them.

  “Fight to the death and entertain me, would ya?”