Dryas stared between Caelus and Arlen; her breath trapped in a trembling chest. She couldn’t comprehend the command she’d just heard… couldn’t believe the one who shared her journey was now forcing her to raise a blade against the god who raised her.

  Caelus closed his eyes for a moment — a quiet, devastating acceptance.

  Then his compassion hardened into duty.

  “Very cleverly done, God Slayer.”

  His voice carried centuries of tired wisdom.

  “It seems destiny has forced my hand. Dryas… I am bound to fight you.”

  A golden glow surged around his staff as he pointed it toward her — not with hate, but with heartbreak.

  “I never wished for this, my child. But in a battle between life and death… the god of life will not hold back.”

  Dryas’s tears finally broke free — falling silently like rain on dry earth.

  “Wait—please!”

  She turned desperately to Arlen, searching his face for even a sliver of mercy

  “Arlen… I know you. You would never do something this cruel, right?

  Please… tell me this is a mistake…”

  But his eyes were ice. Unmoving. Unforgiving.

  Oath Binder flared to life around her neck — chains of glowing runes shackling her very soul.

  “You were a useful companion,”

  “But I’m done with you. Fight… if you want to live.”

  He bit into the apple in his hand — a cruel, casual disdain.

  Dryas’s breath hitched… then she turned.

  She manifested a weapon — not divine gold, not crystal steel —

  but a fragile sword of bark and roots

  A child’s weapon… wielded against the one who taught her to walk among mortals.

  Caelus inhaled once, pain flickering behind his calm mask — then he struck first.

  Steel of living life clashed against dying wood.

  Divine force hammered Dryas backward again and again.

  “Dryas,” Caelus murmured mid-strike, anguish hidden in his fury,

  “Do not make me kill you.”

  But she had no choice.

  Oath Binder commanded

  Blades collided.

  Sparks danced.

  Every hit chipped away another piece of her heart.

  Arlen watched from his stolen throne — eyes sharp, expression emotionless.

  Yet he noticed it all.

  Caelus’s wrists tremored…

  His swings hesitated by a fraction…

  He was holding back

  Because this wasn’t a duel.

  It was the tearing apart of a family.

  A dance of tragedy — orchestrated by the God Slayer who once promised revenge… and now twisted that mission into something far darker.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Dryas’s shield of vines shattered, her frail wooden blade barely catching Caelus’s next swing.

  His staff slammed into her ribs — bone cracked, air left her lungs in a ragged gasp.

  She fell, clutching her side as her vision blurred.

  Arlen’s laughter cut deeper than any divine blow.

  “Look at you,”

  “A pampered little goddess who hides behind forests and cute animals. You call it kindness— I call it cowardice.”

  His words hit like poison in her bloodstream.

  “You blame ‘the laws of nature’ for your weakness…

  but the truth?

  You were just too afraid to ever try changing anything.”

  Caelus flinched — not at Dryas’s pain, but at Arlen’s cruelty.

  Dryas trembled, her hands slipping in her own blood.

  Was he right…? Had she run from the truth all along?

  Her heart pounded.

  Every moment of helplessness she had endured —

  every life she failed to save —

  each weighed on her chest like chains.

  Tears raging her eyes.

  But Arlen’s voice thundered again, drowning out mercy.

  “I was once weak too.

  I bled. I cried. I begged.

  But I .

  One step forward — even if it was into darkness.”

  He leaned forward on the throne — a predator seated in stolen authority.

  “Are you too scared to even take a single step?”

  That question…

  It struck the deepest part of her soul.

  Her tears stopped.

  Her fingers closed around the wooden hilt — not to defend, but to fight

  She pushed her body upright — staggering, but alive.

  A single step forward.

  And she thrust her blade toward the one who raised her.

  Caelus’s expression broke.

  Not in fear.

  But in heartbreak.

  His golden staff swung down —

  not to kill…

  but to stop her descent into damnation.

  Yet Dryas did not stop.

  Because in that moment—

  She chose to struggle.

  She chose to change.

  She chose to stand.

  Her sword barely grazed Caelus’s shoulder—

  but his divine staff tore straight through her abdomen.

  Dryas gasped, eyes wide — warm blood soaking the floor beneath her feet.

  “It’s over, child…”

  A tear escaped him — a god mourning what he was forced to do.

  But it wasn’t over.

  Arlen appeared from behind Dryas like a shadow sharpened into a blade.

  Soul Eater plunged through Dryas’s back —

  and straight into Caelus’s core

  Both gods froze — choking on pain and disbelief. Both their god’s core shattered by soul eater.

  Arlen whispered, voice cold and calculated:

  “That determination was all I needed…

  to make the opening.”

  Caelus crumpled first — divinity leaving his eyes like fading starlight.

  Dryas dropped beside him, reaching with trembling fingers.

  Arlen stepped towards Caelus.

  "Right now you are nothing more than a puppet of Ianthe, Chronos and Mortis. So you need to die. But," he cowered down and pointed his finger towards Dryas - "I will give you a final gift."

  Dryas stood up – she didn’t die. She blinked… and realized she was healing.

  Arlen knelt before her, tapping the chain around her throat — the black collar of the Oath Binder

  “Divine cores break…”

  “But commands remain.”

  His smirk carried both cruelty and salvation.

  “My order was simple:

  You are .

  So when your godhood shattered…

  the relic defied fate for you.”

  He stood, wiping Caelus’s blood from Soul Eater.

  “Congratulations, Dryas.”

  His voice dropped into something gentler — dangerously human.

  “You are free now — free from cosmic law. Free from eternity. Free to live and die like the humans you claimed to love.”

  Caelus, in his final moments, smiled — not in defeat, but in relief.

  His voice cracked like an old prayer:

  “You’ll finally… get to choose your own life…”

  Then the god of life went still.

  Dryas stared — confused, breathless — tears spilling without restraint.

  The burden of divinity slipped off her shoulders like a heavy crown hitting the floor.

  She was terrified.

  She was liberated.

  She was alive

  And when she looked up at Arlen—

  He was terrifying.

  He was monstrous.

  He was glorious.

  The God Slayer who had destroyed her divine heart…

  had given her the freedom to feel one

  At that moment, In Dryas’ eyes, The God Slayer, Arlen glowed brighter than any gods and goddesses she has ever witnessed.