Arlen staggered back, doubt flickering for a single, fatal heartbeat.

  Nyx did not.

  For her, Chloe was not .

  She was an obstacle.

  An obstacle standing between Arlen and certainty.

  And Nyx would rather be hated than allow hesitation to rot him from the inside.

  She moved.

  No warning. No words.

  Her body vanished in a blur of instinct, claws aimed straight for Chloe’s throat—clean, precise, merciless.

  —but steel met her fangs.

  A golden blade descended from above and stopped her mid-strike.

  Nyx twisted back, boots skidding across fractured stone, eyes snapping upward.

  Chronos stood before Chloe now.

  Not seated.

  Not idle.

  Standing.

  “A half-angel,” he said flatly, eyes cold as a stopped clock. “Filthy, incomplete thing. Did you truly believe I would hide behind one who worships me?”

  His blade hummed with borrowed authority.

  “I am the God of Time. The mightiest throne holder of Heaven. And I do not allow those who swear loyalty to me to die like disposable tools. That would stain my pride.”

  Nyx clicked her tongue and leapt back, muscles coiled.

  Chronos didn’t even spare her another glance.

  “Angel,” he ordered calmly. “Step aside.”

  Chloe obeyed instantly.

  “I will exterminate these pests myself.”

  Cornea’s voice cracked through the domain like a whip.

  “NOW.”

  The world erupted.

  Vines tore through the ground.

  Black holes bloomed and collapsed.

  Water dragons screamed into being.

  Poison mist, pollen clouds, abyssal magic, demonic force—everything crashed toward Chronos at once.

  And none of it reached him.

  Borrower’s Will answered.

  Light judgment sliced through black holes.

  Ice spears froze water dragons mid-roar and shattered them into crystal rain.

  Winds tore pollen apart before it could settle.

  Fireballs incinerated vines down to ash.

  Chronos hadn’t even touched yet.

  Arlen and Grom roared and charged, blades screaming.

  Chronos danced.

  Not hurried.

  Not strained.

  Their attacks passed where he a moment ago, his steps effortless, disdainful.

  They were fighting a wall that could think.

  Nyx stayed glued to Arlen’s side, regeneration flaring again and again as wounds appeared faster than strategy could form.

  And Arlen felt it.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  The weight.

  The promise.

  He couldn’t throw himself forward anymore.

  He couldn’t trade limbs for openings.

  He refused to gamble his body the way he once had.

  And that hesitation——was killing their momentum.

  Even Astrea’s “five percent chance” felt like a cruel joke now.

  Then—

  Dryas stepped forward.

  Her bare feet touched the scorched ground.

  Her eyes turned emerald.

  “Oh forest,” she whispered, voice steady despite the chaos. “Answer my call. Envelop this domain with your warmth.”

  Roots exploded upward.

  Vines surged, thick and alive, wrapping the ground, the air, the throne itself.

  The same miracle.

  The same miracle that had dragged Mortis to his knees.

  Chronos clicked his tongue.

  “Tch. That trick again,” he muttered. “Futile.”

  And he was right—.

  The forest alone was nothing to him.

  But not while he was fending off Arlen’s blades.

  Not while Cornea pressed from the flank.

  Chronos’s eyes flicked—just once.

  Arlen saw it.

  Dryas saw it.

  Their gazes met.

  No words.

  Only understanding.

  The forest shifted.

  Not toward Chronos.

  Toward his throne.

  Roots changed direction.

  Vines ignored the god—

  —and lunged for the seat of his power.

  The same way Caelus had fallen.

  The same way gods

  fall.

  And for the first time—

  Chronos frowned.

  But then—

  An unexpected variable moved.

  Chloe.

  She threw herself forward, wings and arms wrapping around the Throne of Time

  “I WON’T LET YOU HURT MY LORD’S THRONE!”

  Dryas froze.

  Just for a moment.

  A single, fatal hesitation.

  Not fear.

  Not weakness.

  Kindness.

  The same kindness that had once made her divine—

  and the same kindness that now betrayed her.

  That moment was all Chronos needed.

  Borrower’s Will responded instantly.

  Fire erupted.

  Not controlled.

  Not merciful.

  A forest fire

  swallowed everything.

  Trees screamed as they burned.

  Animals vanished mid-flight.

  Birds fell as cinders.

  The living forest—her forest—was erased in seconds.

  Dryas collapsed to her knees.

  “No… no… no…”

  Her voice didn’t carry.

  There was nothing left to hear it.

  Ash drifted where life once breathed.

  Arlen’s heart seized.

  “DRYAS—WATCH OUT!”

  Too late.

  The vines moved again.

  But not toward Chronos.

  Borrower’s Will twisted them.

  Turned them.

  The very vines that had followed Dryas out of love now obeyed a relic instead.

  One pierced her heart.

  Her eyes widened—not in fear, but disbelief.

  Blood spilled from her lips, mixing with silent tears.

  Then more vines struck.

  Her arms.

  Her legs.

  Her torso.

  They tore through her without mercy, without pause—

  not even allowing her the dignity of a final breath.

  Her body was ripped apart by the forest she had protected.

  Even the plants seemed to weep—leaves trembling, roots shaking—

  unable to defy a sacred relic’s command.

  The former Goddess of Nature died in despair.

  “DRYAAAAAS!”

  Arlen screamed.

  And in that instant—

  the instant he turned—

  Chronos smiled.

  Another vine surged forward, sharpened and lethal.

  “This is the end,” Chronos said calmly.

  “You fought well. But you lost because of your pointless emotions, God Slayer.”

  The vine struck.

  —but Arlen didn’t die.

  Grom moved.

  He didn’t think.

  Didn’t hesitate.

  He threw himself forward.

  The vine punched through thick muscle and bone, ripping through his body and barely grazing Arlen’s chest instead.

  Chronos exhaled in mild irritation.

  “Futile resistance from insects.”

  An ice spear formed.

  It pierced through the wound in Grom’s body—

  —and continued.

  Straight through Arlen’s throat.

  “GROM!!! NOOO!!!”

  Nyx screamed, crashing to his side, claws shaking as she tried to heal him.

  Grom grabbed her wrist.

  Blood filled his mouth, but his eyes were steady.

  “No… don’t waste it… heal him first,” he rasped.

  “We need him… more than me.”

  Nyx bit down on her lip until it bled.

  Tears streamed down her face—

  —but she obeyed.

  She dragged Arlen close and sank her fangs into him, regeneration flaring desperately as sobs wracked her body, “Please don’t die”.

  Cornea, Aura, and Tethys rushed forward, forming a shield—

  blocking blow after blow, giving Nyx even a fraction of time.

  Tethys trembled.

  Dryas was gone.

  Her last family.

  Her tears didn’t fall.

  They hardened.

  Water turned into blades, spears, broken weapons launched in blind rage toward Chronos—

  hopeless, desperate, furious.

  None reached him.

  Nyx’s regeneration wasn’t fast enough.

  Arlen had been pierced through the heart and throat.

  Even she couldn’t keep up.

  He was dying. Nyx tried her best to stop the inevitable.

  Then—

  The air screamed.

  A violent tornado tore open the battlefield, forcing Chronos back half a step.

  A young man stepped out of the storm, wind howling around him.

  “Wow,” he muttered. “I’m a bit late, huh?”

  His eyes met Cornea’s.

  “You must be the Demon Queen. I’m Aeon—God of Wind. Astrea sent me.”

  He glanced at the carnage.

  “…Damn. I really am late.”

  He raised his hand.

  “I’ll hold him for a moment. That’s all I can do. Use it to run.”

  Cornea didn’t argue.

  She opened an obsidian gate instantly.

  Aura screamed, “WAIT! We can’t leave Grom and Dryas—THEIR BODIES—”

  “No time,” Aeon snapped.

  The portal closed by force.

  The team vanished into the underworld.

  Dryas was gone.

  Grom was gone.

  And Arlen’s life—

  —hung by a thread so thin it could snap at any breath.