(Execution Livestream Continuation, The Pit)
"What the fuck are you doing Mauriss? Have you finally fucking lost your head? You spineless lying snake?"
Kaelith snapped, his expression turning into one of pure disbelief as his eyes locked onto Mauriss, disbelief hardening into something sharp and dangerous as the origin dagger in his hand tightened just enough to show that this interruption would not be forgotten.
However, contrary to his expectations, Mauriss did not look apologetic in the slightest, and if anything, the Deceiver laughed even harder at those words, his shoulders shaking as he slowly shook his head in something resembling pity rather than regret.
"Hahahaha...."
Mauriss chuckled openly as he shook his head, lifting a finger to point lazily toward Soron first, then Helmuth, and finally Kaelith himself, as though the three of them were actors on a stage performing a joke that only he could understand.
*Slam*
*Tremble*
The ground beneath the execution stage shuddered violently as Helmuth planted his foot into the fractured stone, raw force rippling outward as he raised his axe and pointed it directly at Kaelith, his expression twisted into something feral and incandescent with rage.
"I told you..... not to interfere in my battle, Kaelith.
So what part of, DO NOT INTERFERE, did you not understand, eh?"
Helmuth demanded, his voice carrying enough pressure to make the air itself groan, his fury matching Kaelith’s own as the Eternal Sovereign finally shifted his gaze toward him, contempt flashing openly across his features.
"I already let you have your fun, Helmuth, this was the end of the battle.
I saw an opening to kill Soron, and I took it.
BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT WE ARE HERE FOR....
TO PUT AN END TO THE EVIL CULT."
Kaelith replied coldly, his tone sharp with conviction as he turned his attention back toward the still-chuckling Mauriss after delivering his justification, before cautiously sparing a glance toward Soron, who by now had fully regenerated his injuries and stood breathing heavily behind them.
"You’re a fool, Eternal Sovereign...."
Mauriss interjected at that moment, his laughter fading into something calmer as he rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and casually adjusted his hair so that it no longer floated unnaturally toward the sky, but rather settled back over his shoulders in carefully arranged locks.
"As you already know, I’m blessed with the ability ’Eye Of Fate’.
And with that ability, I saw that even if you stabbed your brother through the heart in what you believed was a sure-shot end to the fight, you still failed to finish it.
Because your brother, stubborn fool that he is, clings to life just long enough for Helmuth to shove you aside in rage, giving Soron the opening he needs to deliver one last blow before his body finally gives out.
A blow... meant to end your life."
Mauriss explained smoothly, his words landing one after another as Kaelith’s pupils dilated, disbelief cutting through his fury like a blade.
"In seven out of ten outcomes, you die.
The Timeless Assassin’s best sons both dying on the same day.
But let’s just say I didn’t particularly like those odds, so I altered that reality and ensured you didn’t have to suffer such an ugly probability stacked against you...."
Mauriss continued, his tone almost conversational as Kaelith instinctively examined the aura around his body, searching for deception, only to find none, the truth of those words pressing uncomfortably against his senses.
"So you can thank me for saving your life....
And then you can start by apologizing for the insults you threw earlier.
Because if you don’t.
I might genuinely feel tempted to side with Soron instead of you in this battle...."
Mauriss teased lightly, his grin widening as Kaelith’s brow twitched violently, a vein popping at his temple as fury surged back to the surface, though before he could respond, Helmuth cut in once more.
"Also, Eternal Sovereign, I don’t particularly care whether you believe that topless snake’s story or not.
However, what I do care about, is the fact that you showed me a severe lack of respect.
A few seconds ago, I was moments away from proving to the entire universe that I am a superior warrior to your brother.
And if you don’t show me the respect I deserve, then I have no issue proving that I am superior to you as well."
Helmuth warned, his axe lowering just enough to signal genuine threat rather than empty warning as the atmosphere within the heart of the Chakravyuh formation thickened to an almost suffocating degree.
The three pillars of the Righteous Faction stood locked in open hostility with one another, killing intent bleeding into the space between them, while behind them Soron panted quietly as he recovered his strength, this sudden break from relentless combat becoming the perfect respite he needed to steady his breath and replenish his fading energy.
’That was close... far too close.’
Soron thought, as he pulled out a new set of daggers from his inventory.
’Everything could have collapsed if that blade had pierced my heart, if even a fraction of a second had gone differently, and the fact that it came to that at all tells me more than I want to admit.’
’Holding back against Helmuth was a mistake.’
’I assumed I still understood the limits of his strength, assumed that the Berserker God was something I could measure, something I could manage with discipline and control, while clinging to the idea that I was still the warrior I once was...’
’But I’m not.’
’I’m no longer the prime version of myself that stood unchallenged at the peak, no longer the blade that could rely purely on instinct and reflex to carry me through prolonged combat without consequence.’
’If I keep fighting like that man still exists, if I keep trusting reactions that arrive a fraction too late, then this battle will end with my corpse on the ground.’
’Helmuth has already sensed it.’
’Kaelith almost exploited it.’
’And next time, there won’t be an interruption.’
’If I want to see this through, if I want my people to survive what comes next, then I need to accept the truth of my position.’
’I am the weaker fighter here.’
’Which means I can’t afford pride.’
’I can’t afford impatience.’
’I can’t afford to trade blows just to prove something that no longer matters.’
’I need to slow this down.’
’I need to choose my moments.’
’And when the time finally comes...’
’That is when I gamble everything.’
Soron concluded as he steadied his breathing, divine essence circulating more carefully through his battered body as his gaze lifted once more toward the three hostile gods before him.
Fate had allowed him to endure what seemed to be certain death, however, surely there was not going to be a second chance for him if he repeated the same mistakes.
He had to understand that he was no longer the warrior that he once was and that if strength alone could no longer carry him through this battle, then survival had to be earnt through judgment, restraint, and a patience forged from the knowledge that the next mistake, his or theirs, would decide everything.