Arkanis stepped back, eyes fixed on Sarandel, his mind racing. *Godslayer? Is she talking about the gene? The weapons? Does she mean I need to be one to even harm her?* His grip on his staff tightened. The woman before him stood motionless, her gaze calm.
"Are you going to do anything," she asked, tilting her head slightly, "or just stand there staring at me?"
She raised her hand, light gathering in her palm before solidifying into a bow of divine craftsmanship. The weapon gleamed faintly, its limbs shaped like curved wings, the string shimmering with threads of pure radiance that hummed softly when drawn. Filigree markings of celestial gold ran along the frame—subtle, yet unmistakably divine.
"Not that I mind," she added, drawing the bowstring. A radiant arrow formed between her fingers, brilliant and weightless. "Just makes it easier for me."
The string thrummed once. The arrow blurred through the air.
Arkanis reacted instantly, swinging his staff up to parry. The impact sent sparks of divine light scattering before the arrow ricocheted high into the sky, spinning end over end. It halted midair, twisting unnaturally as though alive, before bending back toward him—its tip locking onto his chest once again.
"I know who you are," Arkanis said, pointing his staff at her, his voice steady but laced with tension. "There's only one god on this planet—and that's Sarandel." His magenta eyes narrowed. "You might think I can't hurt you, but I know magics that'll make even a god flinch."
Sarandel's bow dissolved from her hands into fading light. "Actions speak louder than words," she said, folding her arms. "And right now, all you're doing is speaking." Her tone was level, unimpressed. "Prove it."
The arrow behind her twisted sharply and shot downward. Arkanis slammed his staff into the ground—vanishing in a shimmer of gravity magic and reappearing behind her. *The last arrow grew stronger when I tried to dodge it…* he thought rapidly, *I don't know if this one does the same. I can't risk it—but…*
He raised one hand toward her back, power already gathering. Astral energy coalesced in his palm—a sphere swirling with deep cosmic blues and violets, constellations glimmering faintly within. The air around it pulsed with gravity, bending light as he unleashed it.
The blast struck her point-blank just as the arrow reached them, the two collisions merging into a single explosion. Light and dust erupted outward, shattering nearby windows, swallowing the street in a dense haze.
"You're right," came Sarandel's voice from within the smoke, calm and clear. "That did make me flinch."
A hand shot out from the haze before Arkanis could react. He jerked backward, but not fast enough—her fingertip barely grazed his chest.
Instantly, his entire body locked up. His knees buckled as an invisible pressure crushed down on him from every direction. It felt like the air itself was compressing his bones inward. His organs screamed, blood rushing to his ears as his lungs struggled for breath. He dropped to one knee, forcing out a hoarse gasp as he flooded his body with water magic, desperately healing before the pressure could tear him apart from within.
When the dust finally settled, Sarandel stood there, unchanged. Her posture was composed, her gaze fixed on him with only the faintest trace of irritation—eyes narrowed, expression calm yet edged with quiet disdain.
"You look smart, so you might already know this—but then again, you clearly haven't fought a god before, so maybe you don't," Sarandel began, her tone calm yet edged with faint condescension. She paced slowly around him, her steps deliberate, measured. Arkanis kept one hand braced on his staff, healing magic flowing through his body as he forced himself upright, breath still ragged from the crushing pressure.
"For gods to enter the mortal plane," she continued, her voice carrying with effortless clarity, "we must divide our strength by an equation of infinity. Otherwise…" She gestured lazily around them, her hand tracing the air. "Everything would cease to exist. Our mere presence would overload reality itself—like a storage drive filled beyond capacity. The world simply couldn't hold us."
Her hand lowered, eyes glinting faintly. "But even after dividing our power by infinity, there are still remnants of what we are. Things that break the laws you live by." She pointed to his chest, to the spot where her fingertip had barely grazed him. "That touch you felt just now—by the physical laws of the world—was interpreted as omnidirectional. Because the only way reality can comprehend a god's motion is to treat it as coming from every direction at once. We can control it, of course, but that's how it works."
Arkanis met her gaze, panting lightly, his hand pressed to his chest though the pain pulsed through every inch of him. "Why are you telling me this?" he managed, confused by her sudden willingness to explain.
"Because I'm giving you a chance, Demon Lord," Sarandel said simply. She stopped pacing, facing him again. "Leave. Get off my sister. Get out of my domain. I don't like killing—but I have goals, and I intend to accomplish them. So while I'm feeling merciful… leave." Her arms folded across her chest, her expression unreadable. "I can see it in your eyes. You don't want to do this either."
Arkanis froze, her words striking deeper than he expected. His eyes fell to the ground. "I can't just leave," he muttered. "That's not how it works in Hell. There's a hierarchy we have to follow."
Sarandel scoffed softly. "Like your boss follows it himself? Go ask the Devil if he approved any of this—then talk to me about hierarchy." She turned away from him just as a sudden wave of demonic energy surged through the air, rolling in from the direction of X and Armada. Her head tilted slightly, sensing it.
"Looks like my ally managed to make your friend show his demonic form," she said, her tone cooling further. "I'll be going to assist him. I'm done with you."
Without another glance, she began walking away. Arkanis didn't try to stop her—there was no point. He stood there in silence for a moment, then let out a deep, weary sigh. Turning toward the distant portal where King Domine awaited, he began walking. His expression was unreadable, but his thoughts were far from still. He had a lot to think about.