The Lightbringer reached up with trembling hands, wrapping his fingers around the blood soaked blade that was protruding from his chest.

"T-that's... not possible..."

The sword forced itself deep, causing a torrent of blood to pour from his mouth, which still hung open in disbelief, as the cross guard pressed against his back. His divine, wing and a half formed of pure light shattered into motes of light that fell to the ground like glitter, and the intense glow that covered his eyes retreated.

Seth raised his hand, curling his finger as if he was beckoning the Lightbringer to approach, to which he unwillingly obeyed. The sword forced itself into his back, pushing him along the ground, his feet dangling helplessly and dragging behind him as he was dragged like a puppet on strings, until he stopped in front of Seth.

His beckoning hand reached up, wrapping around the Lightbringers throat and forcing the dying god to look him in the eyes. Even behind the darkness of his cloaks hood, the Lightbringer trembled slightly as he saw the silvery glow of an eye glaring at him.

"You did this to yourself. And I don't mean your death, you made that inevitable long ago. I mean this..."

He flicked his finger against the sword, causing it to vibrate and making the Lightbringer whimper in pain, before the sword pulled itself from his back. As soon as the Astrium blockade was gone, a crimson waterfall spilled from the gash on his chest, splashing against the ground and splattering against Lord Corvus' perfect black boots.

Uncaring of the filthy blood that stained his boots, Seth continued,

"You were the cause of your own downfall. I made a weapon to kill you, to pass by your invincibility. But you... You made it even easier. You couldn't help but run back to your followers, spewing a little story about me.

You made them doubt your invincibility. You made it disappear. You die from this blade... because of you."

Tears welled up in the side of the Lightbringers eyes, his crimson stained lips twitching as he tried to form words. But all he managed to get out for his final words were a gargling cough that sprayed blood across Seth's face.

Without ceremony or care, Seth let go of the Lightbringers throat, letting him drop to his knees as his feet.

Astra's sword spun in the air, landing in his raised hand and, with one final swing, removed the false god's head from his neck. The head bounced across the ground, rolling for a few feet before coming to a stop.

His mouth still hung open and his eyes were wide, forever left in disbelief at his ultimate fate.

They say that the head survives for a few seconds after decapitation. But for the Lightbringer, those few seconds stretched on for eternity, his vision filled with the sight of Seth towering over him, his mind racing as it went over every error that led him to this moment. Just before the last dregs of life left him, he could swear that Seth's form was replaced by a tall, pale man in a pristine black suit.

When the light completely left the Lightbringers eyes, Seth let out a deep and discontent sigh. Even now, he felt nothing. No pride, no relief. It didn't quell his anger or satisfy him. There was simply... nothing.

Not when he killed this bastard, who completely deserved it and worse, but also not when he killed those cult followers. They were delusional and misguided, yes. But they were innocent. Simply victims sent to the slaughter by this worthless wretch.

Shouldn't he feel guilty about them? Even if killing was normalised and necessary in some cases, shouldn't he still feel guilty about killing innocents? Shouldn't he feel... something?

Seth looked down at his hand, which was completely steady and not trembling in the slightest, as if he was performing the most mundane task in the world, and let out another sigh. Without another word, he reached down and plucked the Lightbringers head from the ground, lifting him by his pretty blonde hair. Angel's voice resounded in his mind as he stared into those lifeless eyes.

[Congratulations. You've earnè̷̱̻͙̦̲̺̥̱̙̊d̷̡̨̡̫̞̥̪͈̩̜́̇̿͆̉̋ ̸̛̮̻̑̑͌̉̿̀͒ā̸̪̣̞̙̠͉̲̝̾̀̉͋̌̓̕͘͠ ̷̧͉̲̹̬͕̙̬̳͔̌̒̇̀̇̓͝ͅR̸͉̬̪̟͈̲̼̯͖͓̋̅̀́͑é̷̩̹̩̥͉̞͇͎͚̤̣̅͑q̶͇̻̪̐̍ų̷̨͔͕͓̯̠͎̮͈̍̋͝í̷̛͓̣̹̗̆̋̊̊̍̿́͝t̶̤͖͖̗̙̹̓͑́̈́̉̈́̂͒̋̊a̴̖͓̣͓̥̎̆̆̐̂́l̷͍͉̖̻͋]̶̣͖̝̹̦̞̣̭͆́̊̆͒̐̚͝͝

FWWWOOOOOOM!

"Aargh! Fuck!"

Pain erupted in his mind as Angel's voice become a garbled, shrill glitching noise that pierced into his brain and Seth quickly let go of the Lightbringers head as it burst into a ball of pure white flames.

Even though the flames had only touched him for a second, even through his gauntlet, he could still feel it burning into him. It was such a surprise that he didn't even register that the hand that had been burnt, was the hand that was missing and was currently formed entirely of black blood.

The flaming head bounced when it landed, touching against the Lightbringers corpse which immediately burst into the same vibrant, pure white flames. The flames never spread beyond that, however. They stayed completely restricted to the Lightbringers body as the flesh was rapidly scorched, melted and burned away into ash.

When his rational mind finally caught up, Seth glanced at his black blood formed hand and quickly poured mana into his eyes.

The world turned monotone, a white fog curling along the ground, all except for the area that was filled with a blinding white bonfire. It was a fire that even reached into the realm of souls, and which was turning the Lightbringers soul to ash, or whatever the hell was the soul equivalent of ash.

'No no NO! YOU BASTARD!'

Seth screamed in his mind as he stood helplessly by the side as the Lightbringer, and the remnants of his soul, were reduced to nothing but ash and a pile of blackened bones. Not even a single drop of blood remained.

Not on the ground, not on his boots, and not on Astra's sword. Although he couldn't see it, even the Lightbringers severed arm had been reduced to charred bones. But even those were too much of a remnant, as a strong gust of wind blew those bones away, turning them into a cloud of ash that danced on the winds.

All that was left was a scorched mark on the ground, and a singular silver ring in the middle. The Requital that had been forming from his kill never got the chance to form.

***

Word of the Lightbringer's demise spread fast and far. Those in other countries and continents thought little of the death of the man who had threatened them, without understanding their own power. They simply saw it as inevitable, the death of an overconfident idiot who had it coming, as they set their eyes on new targets and threats.

But for the citizens of the British isles, especially those in the country that was once known as Scotland, it was a world shattering event.

A god had fallen. Some celebrated, some mourned. Battles that were still ongoing quickly came to an end, with the Lightbringers forces surrendering to the army they had tried to conquer. They didn't even have to tear down the monuments to the false god, as they all simply crumbled to dust at the moment of his death.

It was an eerie sight for those who witnessed it.

The most chilling thing of all, were the videos that came out of the various battles. Displays of power from generals on either side of the armies, images of the brutality of war as hundreds of corpses littered the ground, and some of them stood to their feet.

But most of all, the battle of the Gods drew the most attention.

The descent of the Storm Goddess from the thundering heavens, the ascension of the lightbringer and the arrival of the Death bringer. The ultimate victor.

For those foreign forces that were looking for new threats, the video of his arrival was most disturbing. Because even though it was a simple projection, they could still feel his presence. The air grew cold and still whenever the video was played, and the whispering voice always sounded like it was spoken from directly behind them no matter where or how they viewed it.

Even a passing glance through a window would allow you to hear his voice, and feel his chilling hand gripping the back of your neck.

Many of those who had become leaders of the new world had plenty of power of their own, some even theorised that they could rival the Lightbringer and Death-bringer, as they showed abilities that simply suggested they were at the peak of transcendence, which wasn't too difficult of a feat.

But moments like that, displays of power like those... that made them doubt their claims. It made them wonder about the power they truly held, and what men like this were truly capable of. For some, they even wondered how they themselves could acquire such power.

Although these were mere thoughts in their minds, that didn't mean that there wasn't entities that were listening. Entities that would answer their call, and offer them what they most desired. For a price.

As for the man in question, the one the entire world was talking about and analysing his every mood. He was not celebrating nor mourning. He wasn't feeling anything. He was simply standing where he had always stood, staring at the scorched mark on the ground. A single thought running through his head.

'I needed the Soul of a God to progress... now what am I going to do?'

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.