For the next three minutes, Soron continued to dominate the space around him, as he fought the most vibrant battle he could, burning through what remained of his divinity with reckless joy, until a violent cough finally tore its way out of his chest and rattled his internal organs hard enough to make the air shudder.
*Cough*
*Choke*
Black-tainted blood poured from his mouth in thick, unstoppable streams, splashing across the shattered battlefield like spilled ink, and yet Soron laughed through it, his lips pulled into a grin that bordered on manic as he twisted past a spear thrust and clipped a retreating Yu Kiro across the ribs purely out of spite.
*SLAM*
’So this is where it ends...’
The thought was calm, almost fond, as he felt something vital begin to slip.
This time, the strength did not come back.
Divine regeneration faltered, then failed outright, as though his body had simply decided it had done enough, as internal organs that had been repaired thousands of times before now tore apart and stayed torn, bleeding freely without resistance.
It began in his legs as a simple sprain, as movement that should not have been a burden for his divine legs, suddenly started to ache and hurt, as his muscle fibres felt unnaturally strained.
’Ah... there you are.’
He thought, as the tremor spread, muscle fibres screaming and snapping beneath his skin as divine power fled from them fast.
*Tremble*
With divine regeneration failing, the years of origin metal poisoning finally began to destroy everything inside his body, as divine circuits burned themselves hollow without the essence needed to sustain them, causing the effortless rhythm of his movement to fracture, as [Seconds Walk] degraded into something imperfect, strained and mortal.
*SLASH*
A spear that should have missed tore a shallow line across his thigh.
*BOOM*
A spell that should have exploded in the background hit his shoulder instead, as shocked gasps echoed across the battlefield.
"He’s slowing down!" Yu Kiro shouted, disbelief giving way to feral excitement as he saw blood remain where it fell.
"His regeneration isn’t working! His shoulder is not healing back up, he’s done for." Ru Vassa cried, her eyes wide as she hastily reconfigured her spell formations, greedily pouring more power into them.
"This is it!" Du Trask roared hoarsely, pain forgotten as he forced his ruined arm to steady. "If we push now! We can end this!"
The pressure changed instantly.
What had once been cautious distance turned into a desperate rush, as long-range attacks tripled, while beams and sigils screamed through the air toward Soron from every angle, as the sharks finally sensed blood in the water.
*BOOOM*
*SLASH*
*KABOOM*
Soron felt them land.
Fire blistered his skin, tearing it open in ragged patches that refused to close, as void magic gnawed into his side and stripped it down to raw, exposed flesh, while a crescent slash carved across his back and remained etched there without healing.
As extreme pain spread through his body from head to toe.
*Drip*
*Plop*
Blood soaked his robes, dripping freely from his fingertips before pooling on the ground below, and still he smiled, his spirit remaining defiant till the very end.
’I’ve done everything I wanted to do,’ he thought, amusement bubbling even as his vision dimmed. ’The only thing left is to die with a smile, so that you bastards never have the satisfaction to see me sweat.’
He thought, as his legs finally gave out.
*THUD*
*SPLAT*
One knee slammed into the broken stone hard enough to fracture it, a shockwave rippling outward as he drove the remaining Grudgekeeper Dagger into the ground to remain upright, his breath now ragged and wet, as each inhale scraped through lungs that were actively failing.
The battlefield froze for a heartbeat.
Then Kaelith moved.
The Eternal Sovereign did not hesitate, did not shout, did not grandstand, as he closed the distance in a blur and drove his origin dagger straight through Soron’s chest and into his heart, pinning him fully to the ground.
*Stab*
Soron gasped sharply, more in relief than pain, as warmth flooded his chest and his strength finally vanished completely, his fingers slackening as his body slumped forward against the blade.
The noise faded.
Spells ceased mid-cast.
Weapons lowered.
Seven Gods watched in silence as the impossible finally happened.
Soron looked up at Kaelith, their eyes meeting in a way that stripped centuries of hatred down to something raw and intimate, something that felt uncomfortably like a farewell neither of them had ever planned to give.
As surprisingly, no triumph lived in Kaelith’s gaze at this moment.
Only exhaustion.
"H-Help me take my vial," Soron rasped, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth as he fumbled weakly at his dimensional storage ring, his movements clumsy, uncoordinated, mortal.
From it, he produced a transparent vial, its contents faintly luminous, his trembling hands barely able to hold it, as he asked Kaelith to help him take it in, knowing full well that if any God would understand the importance of doing this, it would be his brother.
*Clench*
Kaelith caught it.
His expression one of disgust as he stared at the vial for a long, terrible moment, then down at Soron’s face, at the familiar smile that still refused to fade even now, even with death already tightening its grip.
Memories surged unbidden.
Their childhood at Ixtal.
Laughter.
Rivalry.
Blood.
Finally, Kaelith exhaled, a sound heavy with two thousand years of unresolved grief, as he uncorked the vial, before carefully, almost reverently, pressing it to Soron’s lips, as he tipped its contents into Soron’s mouth, his hand steady despite the tremor in his eyes.
"Farewell... brother," Kaelith whispered, as Soron swallowed with effort, his breathing slowing at last, as the pain that was a constant accompaniment to him for two millenia finally ebbed into something distant and manageable, his smile softening into something peaceful as he stared up at the ruined sky.
"The scars I’ve given you won’t let you sleep in peace," Soron murmured faintly.
"Good luck living... brother."
He said as his eyes closed, as he let out his final relieved breath.
*Sigh*
The battlefield remained silent, Gods frozen in place, as Soron’s body finally went still, the will that had bent reality itself extinguishing quietly, as it left behind 7 survivors to live with the scars of his memory forever.