The sky didn't split.
It rippled.
High above the ruined castle, space itself distorted as if something invisible had struck the air—like a single drop falling into still water. The impact expanded outward in a perfect ring, warping the clouds, bending light, and then detonating. A shockwave roared across the mountain range, tearing through the blizzard and stripping the castle grounds bare. Snow vanished in an instant, swept away as if it had never existed, replaced by exposed stone and frozen earth.
The blast hit the party seconds later.
They were thrown to the ground, shields raised too late, bodies skidding across ice and stone. The sound alone left their ears ringing. When they looked up again, a massive cloud of snow, ash, and smoke swallowed everything ahead of them, rolling outward like a living thing and sealing off the castle entrance entirely.
No one moved.
Not because they couldn't—but because none of them wanted to be the first to step forward.
They were spent. Limbs shaking, lungs burning, weapons chipped and dulled. More than that, they were afraid. Even now, even after everything, the presence of an Orthodox Divinity still weighed on them like pressure on the chest.
Cassia broke first.
She dropped to her knees and cried, the sound raw and uncontrolled, hands clenched into the ground as if holding herself there. The others weren't much better. Artorius leaned heavily on his staff, staring at the smoke as if expecting it to move again. Jules pressed his palms together, whispering healing incantations he wasn't even sure he had the strength to finish. Achilles said nothing, eyes locked forward, jaw tight.
They waited.
The cloud thinned slowly, dragged apart by the wind. Shapes emerged. Broken stone. The scorched ground.
Then—two bodies.
Hailey lay face-down near the castle steps, unmoving.
Ariel lay farther back, his great armored frame half-buried in fractured stone. His black steed lay beside him, wings folded, chest still rising.
Alive.
The hesitation vanished instantly.
They ran.
Achilles was first, blade drawn. Artorius followed, flames already forming. Jules raised his staff, magic flaring despite the tremor in his hands. Their intent was simple and absolute.
Kill him. Now.
Hailey moved.
She forced herself upright, vision swimming, blood dripping from her mouth and nose. Her hands shook as she reached for the dagger at her waist and pulled it free. Each step toward Ariel sent a spike of pain through her body. She stumbled once. Then again. Her breath came in wet, ragged pulls, but she kept going.
He was right there.
The distance between them closed with every unsteady step.
Her foot caught on broken stone.
Hailey collapsed forward, the dagger slipping from her fingers as her strength gave out completely. She hit the ground hard, coughing blood into the frost. The world dimmed at the edges, sound fading as her body finally refused to move.
By the time the others reached her, she was already unconscious.
They turned toward where Ariel had been—
—and found nothing.
A voice cut through the air behind them.
"Such… vanity."
They spun.
Ariel stood mounted once more, armor cracked and blackened, seated upon his celestial steed as it rose into the air behind them. His presence crushed the space around him. Without another word, he ascended—higher, faster—piercing the clouds, breaking through the storm, climbing far beyond the mountain peaks, far beyond where any mortal should follow.
Then—
Light.
The sky ignited in the same cyan brilliance that had flared around Hailey moments before. It spread outward violently, consuming the heavens in a vast, expanding bloom. The explosion followed seconds later, silent at first, then roaring as the sound finally caught up, shaking the mountains beneath them.
It looked like a star being born.
Then dying.
The light collapsed inward, imploding into itself before vanishing completely. The storm above began to clear, leaving behind only scorched clouds and drifting embers.
Ariel was gone.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Achilles stared upward, breathing slowly, as if afraid the sky might split again. Cassia approached cautiously, tears streaking down her face, only stopping when she saw that the pressure was gone—that whatever had been there was truly finished.
Artorius lifted Hailey onto his back without a word. Jules followed, already pouring what little healing magic he had left into her, his expression grim with frustration at how little it did.
They left the castle behind them.
As they walked, Achilles placed a hand on Cassia's shoulder. She flinched at first, then leaned into it, gripping his sleeve with both hands like an anchor. The silence between them wasn't awkward. It was heavy, shared.
They didn't lose many people.
Too few, considering what they had faced.
Cassia noticed it before anyone else. The absence of loss felt wrong—unnatural. Her gaze drifted to her hand, to the mark beneath her glove that still throbbed faintly, as if remembering Ariel's presence.
Something about her mattered more than they understood.
With only one Orthodox Divinity remaining, the world would not stay quiet for long. Rumors would spread. Hunters would rise. Everyone would race toward the same inevitable end.
Achilles stopped them days later.
They needed time. Training. Preparation. What they had faced proved it. Whatever waited at the end of this hunt would not be defeated by momentum alone.
The party split.
Artorius returned to his order. Jules vanished into the sanctuaries. Cassia was sent away—to live, to grow, to survive long enough to choose her own path.
Achilles stayed with Hailey.
They trained together in silence at first—bows, blades, endurance. One evening, as Hailey loosed an arrow cleanly through a distant target, Achilles finally broke it with a quiet laugh.
"I should've noticed earlier," he said, shaking his head. "You don't miss when it matters."
She didn't answer. Just drew another arrow.
They promised to meet again.
Six years later, in the ruins of Aerinaelia.
Cassia stood among the broken streets of the fallen city, now older, taller, scars etched into her skin and history written into her eyes. The wind carried dust instead of ash now, but the place still felt wrong—too quiet.
Six years.
Vryel was still alive.
Rumors said he had been seen here. The safety of the ruins said otherwise.
The rulers of the world had publicly ended the hunt, issuing warnings and threats alike. Few listened.
Achilles never did.
They left Aerinaelia together and crossed into Syresia, where heat replaced memory and the desert stretched endlessly beneath a burning sky. That was where they found it.
A Celestial Demon—its body adapted to fire and sand, wings like molten glass, scales glowing faintly beneath the sun.
Cassia stepped forward.
Hailey moved instantly, starting toward her—but Achilles extended an arm, stopping her without looking.
"Wait."
Hailey rounded on him, furious. "You can't be serious."
"Watch."
Cassia broke into a run.
The mark on her hand shook violently, pain ripping through her arm, but she didn't slow. She slid beneath the demon's first strike and carved into the tendons of its legs, ancient metal slicing through divine flesh. The creature collapsed with a shriek that cracked the air.
It lashed out wildly. Its tail coiled around Cassia's torso and launched skyward.
She twisted, cut herself free, and fell.
The demon followed, wings snapping open as it dove, fury pouring from it in a single, lethal charge. Cassia met it midair, barely parrying its jaws, momentum throwing them apart just enough for her to drive her blade into its neck.
Blood sprayed across the sky.
The ground rushed up fast.
Cassia's back burned as wings erupted from her shoulders, catching the air just in time. She steadied herself mid-flight and turned.
The demon hit the ground moments later.
It did not rise again.
Hailey stared, breath caught somewhere between fear and disbelief.
Achilles smiled.
And the hunt continued.