(Meanwhile, Soron)
Meanwhile, as Leo prepared to take down Raymond, Soron began to introspect his own body one last time, carefully estimating just how much gas he still had left in the tank.
’Five minutes at best, after that I will be unable to maintain God-Tier strength and will begin to unravel in real time.’
He assessed calmly, as he drew in a slow breath and tightened his grip on the only remaining Grudgekeeper Dagger in his hand.
*Clench*
*BOOM*
His killing intent flared outward without restraint, washing across the battlefield like a tidal wave as the space around him distorted, cracked, and folded inward under the pressure of a man who had long since stopped caring about consequences, his smile widening even as his battered body protested the surge.
"Come then," Soron said lightly, as though inviting children to spar rather than facing seven Gods.
As the response he received was immediate.
Yu Kiro was the first to pull back, spear glowing as he hurled long-range thrusts compressed into beams of divine force, while Ru Vassa cast out a complex web of spell formations, chanting rapidly as layered sigils bloomed into existence and rained destructive magic from every angle.
*BOOM*
*KABOOM*
*BLAST*
Lu Han and Mu Shen followed suit, blades cutting the air as crescent-shaped slashes tore forward, while Du Trask, clutching his ruined forearm, forced himself to contribute from afar, pouring everything he had left into wide, desperate strikes meant to overwhelm through sheer volume.
As through the carnage, only Mauriss and Kaelith advanced to face Soron at close range.
*Step*
*Swing*
Mauriss stepped forward with that ever-present grin, the block of origin metal floating at his side like a loyal hound, while Kaelith blurred in and out of space, twin origin daggers flashing as he tried to pressure Soron from unpredictable angles.
*SLASH*
*SWOOSH*
*DODGE*
The duo tried to corner Soron through their teamwork, however, unfortunately for them, it did not matter, for Soron moved like the wind.
[Seconds Walk]
Walking between the moments, Soron dodged attacks at the very last instance, before then reappearing where no-one expected him to be, as instead of focusing on the Gods charging towards him, he suddenly moved out and attacked the Great Clan Gods instead.
"Oh fuck no...."
Yu Kiro muttered as he saw Soron planting a foot atop an energy spear he threw, as the Cult God defied the laws of physics and used that metaphysical spear as leverage to vault himself unexpectedly towards Kaelith, as he changed directions once more.
*SLASH*
The Grudgekeeper Dagger sang.
Kaelith barely had time to cross his blades before Soron was inside his guard, the origin edge slicing across Kaelith’s shoulder and chest in a single fluid motion, as it carved a deep and permanent damage as blood sprayed and Kaelith was hurled backward, crashing across the terrain with a scream that echoed far too long.
"ARGHHHHH!"
Before anyone could react, Soron twisted again, reality bending around his pivot as he appeared in front of Mu Shen mid-charge, the swordmaster’s eyes widening just in time to see the dagger bury itself into his side.
*SPLAT*
The wound was not fatal, but it was absolute, origin metal poisoning the flesh instantly as Mu Shen was sent tumbling away, clutching his ribs in disbelief as regeneration failed him entirely.
"You’re too slow," Soron laughed, genuinely amused, as Ru Vassa’s spells detonated behind him, fire and void crashing together, yet Soron simply walked through the aftermath, grabbing the incoming sword slash from Lu Han with his bare hand, before then hurling the God bodily into Du Trask, the collision sending both skidding across the battlefield like discarded tools.
*Skidddd*
*THUD*
Panicked, Yu Kiro tried again, spear splitting into a storm of afterimages, only for Soron to step between the seconds and appear into his flank, as the Cult God kneed him hard and momentarily broke his divine ribs before vanishing once more.
*CRACK*
Mauriss alone remained close, blocking, redirecting, laughing, yet even he was being dragged along rather than controlling the exchange, his origin metal barely keeping pace as Soron danced around him with reckless delight.
*Drip*
*Drip*
Black tainted blood dripped from Soron’s countless wounds.
His breathing grew heavier.
And yet his smile only grew wider.
This was it.
These were his final moments.
And he intended to spend them reminding the universe as to why his name had forever been spoken with fear, as he carved his will into reality itself, uncaring of how much of himself it cost, because if he was going to die, then he would die laughing, surrounded by Gods who would never forget the feeling of being utterly and completely outclassed by just one Cult Master.
—------------
(Meanwhile Kaelith)
After receiving the wound across his shoulder and chest, Kaelith staggered backward before finally managing to steady himself, his boots grinding against shattered stone as a sharp, unfamiliar heaviness settled into his body, the kind that came not from exhaustion, but from the terrifying realization that the damage carved into him was not going to fade.
*Wince*
The pain was slow to bloom, yet absolute once it did, as origin metal bit deep into flesh and circuitry alike, rejecting regeneration with cruel finality, as it forced Kaelith to press a trembling hand against the wound while warm blood slipped between his fingers and stained his armor beyond recovery.
Nothing had changed.
Centuries had passed. Power had been accumulated. Allies had been gathered.
And yet, standing here bleeding from a permanent wound, Kaelith was forced to confront the same truth he had once been crushed by as a young kid on Ixtal.
Even now... he was not Soron’s equal.
The realization gnawed at him harder than the injury itself, as resentment, fear, and wounded pride twisted together inside his chest, his grip tightening around his dagger until his knuckles went white.
’I need to end Soron today. Anyhow.’
The thought crystallized into something cold and unyielding, as Kaelith straightened despite the pain, his expression hardening with grim resolve.
’If I cannot kill him today, with the help of all these Gods...’
His eyes narrowed, tracking Soron’s movements with renewed intensity.
’Then I will never be able to kill him.’
Too much had already been lost. Too much blood had already been spilled. And returning to the Eternal Garden empty-handed after this humiliation was not an option he could accept.
No matter the cost.
No matter what it took.
Soron needed to fall today, for if he did not, then Kaelith stood to lose everything he had accumulated over the past 2250 years.