Chapter 84: Asphalt and Hellfire

The orphanage was quiet, save for the hum of the bright portal glowing in the center of the room. It cast an otherworldly light on the group gathered around it. Vektor stood in front, his arms crossed, his sharp eyes fixed on the swirling energy within. The others—Mertha, Kivorn, Gridd, Quinara, Vektor Illyana, Klem, Faera, and Gorran—stood ready with their weapons, their expressions ranging from determination to apprehension. 

Vektor turned to the group, his voice calm but laced with authority. "The Land of Sovereignty. It's where we're headed. Xyenn and Yuuna are there, and the brazier hasn't been lit yet. It's been too long. We're not waiting anymore—we're going to move in and assist them now. I can feel that the land is in distress..but it's heavy."

Gridd, the stout dwarf with a thick beard braided into intricate patterns, muttered under his breath. "Bah, 'bout time. Been sittin' on me hands fer too long. Let's get movin', aye?" 

Illyana, standing near the back of the group, clutched her staff tightly. Her sapphire eyes flicked to the portal, then to the others. As Vektor continued speaking, she thought to herself, 'I hope they're okay…'

The mood was tense but resolute. Everyone was ready to step through the portal and leave the orphanage behind. 

But then it happened. 

A deafening BLAST tore through the air, shaking the very foundations of the orphanage. The portal flickered wildly, its light dimming as if recoiling in shock. 

The explosion was massive and destructive, a sound so overwhelming it drowned out everything else. The walls of the orphanage cracked, the stone groaning before chunks of it collapsed inward. Windows shattered into deadly shards, sending glass flying like jagged knives. The ceiling buckled under the force of the shockwave, raining debris and dust down onto the group. 

Outside, the city of Svarthelm was thrown into chaos. Freina's arrow had struck with the force of a divine weapon, its impact sending a ripple of destruction cascading outward. The streets were torn apart, cobblestones flying in all directions like projectiles. Buildings crumbled, their walls disintegrating as the shockwave moved through them. Towers that had stood for centuries collapsed in an instant, their spires falling like broken toothpicks. 

The air itself seemed to split, a loud, shrieking hum reverberating long after the initial blast. Green and white flames erupted from the epicenter, spreading unnaturally fast, licking across stone and steel alike. The flames danced in eerie silence, lighting up the darkened streets with their ethereal glow. 

Inside the orphanage, the silence that followed the blast was broken by the cries of children. Their wails echoed through the crumbling structure, blending with the distant sounds of the city's destruction. 

Mertha, her massive muscles rippling as she moved, scrambled through the debris. 

'What..was that?!'

Her hands tore through fallen beams and broken walls like they were paper, her face set in a grim mask of determination. "Stay calm, little ones! I'm coming for you!" she shouted, her voice booming over the chaos. 

She reached a pile of rubble where a child's weak cries could be heard. With a grunt, she lifted a massive chunk of stone and tossed it aside, revealing a small boy with a bleeding forehead. She scooped him up with one arm, cradling him against her chest as she shouted to the others. "We've got wounded! Get to work!" 

Other clerics that were slowly getting up and were able to move rushed to help, their healing magic glowing faintly in the dim light of the green and white flames. Some of them worked tirelessly to mend broken bones and torn flesh, while others moved debris to free more trapped children. But not all of them had survived. 

Several clerics lay motionless beneath the rubble, their lifeless bodies twisted and broken. Blood pooled beneath them, staining the stones red. 

"What the hell was that?" someone shouted. 

"Some kind of blast!"

"But from what?! Dammit, from who?!"

Klem was the first to glance outside through what remained of a shattered window. His face went pale as he saw the scene outside. Freina hovered in the air, her divine presence casting an ominous glow over the orphanage and the surrounding ruins. Bodies littered the streets below her—men, women, and children alike. The goddess's tears glistened in the light of the flames, though her expression was eerily calm. 

"It's her…" Klem said, his voice trembling. He turned back to the others. "It's her! Freina! The hell is she doing here?"

Mertha growled as she moved to help another child. 

'Great..a goddess comes to attack right when we're about to leave!'

Vektor, standing resolute amidst the destruction, looked at the goddess through narrowed eyes. "We're no match for her. None of us are. It'll be suicide to try to save anyone outside or fight her—not when hell is about to be unleashed." 

Gorran, standing up, coughing, said, "Tch! She's an elder dragon god…probably wanting Yuuna."

And he looked to the left, and saw Quinara coughing up blood on the ground, and Gorran helped her up, saying, "On your feet!"

Quinara stumbled, saying, "The fuck does she want? Let's jump her.."

"It's a losing game, woman."

Then, Vektor's words were sharp and commanding. "Clerics! Focus on healing the children. Create the garden for them. They'll be safe there, for a time." 

The clerics nodded, scrambling to follow his orders. 

Outside, Freina raised her bow again. Her divine weapon glowed with a renewed intensity, the green and gold light pulsing through the vines that entwined it. The crystal orb at its center shone brighter than before, casting beams of light that pierced the smoke-filled sky. 

Her voice rang out again, calm yet filled with purpose. "I can smell her…" she said, her tears still falling. Her gaze fixed on the orphanage. "Remnants of Yuuna… lingering here." 

She drew the bowstring back, the arrow forming once again. Its radiant energy lit up the entire area, the ribbons of gold and green spiraling around her in a mesmerizing display. The hum of the bowstring grew louder, a deep, resonating sound that seemed to vibrate through the very bones of the city. 

"Die," she said softly, her voice filled with deadly intent. 

But just as she was about to release the arrow, a figure shot through the air toward her. 

Draeven. 

He moved like a streak of smoke and shadow, his wraps trailing behind him as he closed the distance in an instant. With a powerful swing, his fist connected with Freina's face. 

The sound of the impact echoed through the air, but the goddess didn't even flinch. She hung there, completely still, her expression unchanging. Slowly, she tilted her head, her gaze settling on Draeven, as Draeven's fist was still pressed against her face."

"Oh…?" she said softly, her voice curious. "Another Joty—" 

KATHRACK! 

A deafening explosion of steam and hellfire erupted as something massive struck Freina, interrupting her words and sending her hurtling backward. She crashed through several buildings, the force of the impact leveling them instantly. 

The city trembled under the force of the explosion, smoke and fire rising into the air as debris rained down. 

The air was thick with dust, smoke, and the lingering energy of destruction. The green and white flames still flickered, casting eerie shadows across the ruins of the orphanage and the city beyond. The cries of the wounded had dulled to muffled sobs, and for a moment, there was only silence. 

And then, they saw him. 

Draeven stood amidst the destruction, his wraps shifting slightly in the wind. He wasn't looking at them—he was walking away, his back turned as though he had just finished something that no longer concerned him. 

"I missed you guys," he muttered, his voice just loud enough for them to hear. "Is everyone okay?"

Mertha, Kivorn, Gridd, Quinara, Illyana, Klem, Faera, Vektor, and Gorran all stared, a mix of shock and disbelief washing over them. 

Then, another voice rang out. 

"Draeven!" 

The group turned toward the source, eyes widening as they saw two figures they hadn't laid eyes on in so long—Zyphira and Sethrak. 

Zyphira had her hands clenched in front of her, her violet eyes shimmering with something between relief and hesitation. Sethrak, standing beside her, looked just as intense as ever, but there was something different in his stance—less rigid, less guarded. 

The group gasped, murmurs of disbelief rippling through them. 

"Zyphira!" Quinara breathed.

"Sethrak.." Gorran noticed him.

Kivorn was leaning against a wall, getting his head together, thinking, 'Draeven punched her that far?'

Sethrak, Zyphira, and Draeven had been gone for awhile away from the party, their paths diverging in ways none of them had been able to predict. And yet, here they all stood, in the middle of a city being torn apart by a goddess's wrath. 

The moment was short-lived. 

King Alaric stepped forward, his expression grave. Commander Grandbelle stood beside him, his weapon still shifting between blade and gun, his molten eyes scanning the destruction. 

"You all need to evacuate," Alaric said firmly. "I don't know why Freina is here, nor why she's causing this destruction, but I must focus on saving my kingdom." His gaze rested on Sethrak and Zyphira. "And you two—go with them. Freina is no joke. You'll die if you stay." 

'If Freina tears down all the cities within the continent, then the flow of worship will deteriorate, and Vuben would die..I can't let that happen..'

Sethrak and Zyphira exchanged glances. 

For a long moment, Sethrak hesitated, his jaw tightening. Then, he turned to Alaric. His throat felt tight, the words difficult to form, but he forced them out. 

"I… I can't say I forgive you," he muttered, then exhaled sharply, looking away. "But I… I understand." 

Alaric's gaze softened, his expression unreadable. 

But there was no time to dwell on it. 

Vektor stepped forward, his voice urgent. "We need to leave. Hell is opening in another land, and Sugred is at the center of it. If we don't go now, we might never be able to stop it." 

Zyphira's head snapped toward him. "They're in trouble…? Then we have to go! If Hell is being opened up…" 

Mertha clenched her fists. "But what about the people?" 

Klem turned to her, his face grim. "You'll die trying to save them, Mertha. She's a goddess. You can't fight her." 

Alaric inspected his son and daughter, thinking, 'None of these Tyrants seem exactly scared. Who knows what Sethrak and Zyphira have been through. To see them be so strong..to see what my mistakes cause them to be, I do regret it, but I am happy they made themselves fit into a world where they can fight, and fight for others. The way they easily decided to help their other Tyrants, knowing that the stakes are high, they got themselves involved with a good group. I'm happy…that they didn't turn out like me. A ruined king…'

Faera, without hesitation, reached into her satchel and pulled out a glowing shard. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it forward, and the portal shimmered back to life in front of them. It pulsed with raw energy, the swirling vortex leading directly to the Land of Sovereignty. 

"Get in," Faera commanded. "Now." 

Alaric nodded in agreement, looking at his people. "Go. I'll handle this. Vuben, my dragon god of gold, will fight by my side. I will not let this kingdom fall." 

One by one, they stepped through, the portal swallowing them whole. 

At the last second, just before the portal shut completely, Zyphira reached out and placed a hand on Draeven's shoulder. 

She said something—something only for him. 

And then she was gone. 

The portal snapped shut, leaving only three figures behind. 

Draeven. 

King Alaric. 

Commander Grandbelle. 

Grandbelle said to Draeven, "Huh?! The hell are you doing?! This is a battlefield! Should've gone with your group!"

Draeven exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. "Zyphira was too scared to say it herself," he said. Then he looked Alaric dead in the eyes. "But she forgives you, King Alaric."

Alaric's breath hitched ever so slightly. It was barely noticeable, but Draeven caught it. 

For a moment, the king said nothing. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he muttered, "Then I can finally rest in peace." Then he spoke out loud, "You stayed back just to tell me this? Risking your life to deliver a message? To battle an elder dragon god?"

"She wanted me to tell you and I guess g-go with them. But Faera closed the portal really fast so I'm outta luck. T-They're in a hurry."

"Hmm, you don't seem to be worried in the slightest."

"I-I don't know..but I can't cry about it, you know? It is what it is I guess..you d-die easy when you hesitate.."

Commander Grandbelle scoffed. "Oh, great. Touching moments aside, how the hell are we supposed to fight her?" He jabbed a thumb toward Freina, who was now walking toward them, her divine presence warping the air around her. "We stand no chance against a goddess! We're only fighting because this is our kingdom! We're not gonna let some bitch goddess ruin it!" 

Alaric replied, "You forget I am a vessel of Vuben."

"You said yourself Vuben had died and been reborn many years ago, so he's not at the same strength as he was."

"Even if we lose, we're defending what we have. I will not let another deity rampage through my kingdom, kill my people, and think I will not fight. As a king, I tend to try and avoid warfare, but war has been declared on our holy land."

Freina's voice rang out, calm and unwavering. "Back away. I do not wish to kill Vuben. I wish to seek the boy that lingers here."

The ground beneath her feet cracked with every step she took. The air shimmered with energy, her bow still glowing with divine power. 

Draeven thought, 'I can use this now…away from the other Tyrants..'

Draeven didn't move. He simply reached into his wraps and pulled something out. 

A small, rusted stone. 

A stone that resembled a grey, corroded gate. 

The same stone that had been stolen from him when he first arrived in Svarthelm. The same one he had reclaimed from the orphanage children. 

He extended his right arm to the side, holding the stone tightly in his grasp. 

And then he clenched it. 

Hard. 

A deep, guttural rumble echoed through the air. The ground beneath him quaked. The sky above darkened. The very air around Draeven seemed to bend, as if recoiling from the power radiating off of him. 

Something was coming. 

The moment Draeven's fingers clenched the stone, it exploded. 

A shockwave of raw energy erupted outward, distorting the very fabric of reality. The world around them was no longer as it was. Everything—sky, ground, air—became drenched in red and black, but not in solid colors. It was an ink-like void, shifting and bleeding into itself, smearing like a painter's uncontrolled brushstrokes. Everything lost its defined shape, melting into a chaotic, swirling abyss of darkness and crimson. 

And Draeven stood at the center of it all, destructive winds blowing all around him.

Alaric said, "What the.."

His wraps began to unravel, piece by piece, falling slowly, as if time itself hesitated to reveal what lay beneath. 

His eyes came into view first. 

They weren't just red. They burned, like molten embers, but deep within them, symbols formed—jagged, interwoven markings of an X, twisting and shifting as if alive. Symbols of something ancient. Something forbidden. 

His hair, once concealed, was now exposed—dark gray, wild, and untamed, floating slightly as if gravity itself feared to touch him. 

His skin darkened into a deep shade of gray, but it was far from smooth. Black cracks ran through his body like fractures in ancient stone, and from those cracks, thin tendrils of smoke seeped out, curling and twisting in the air like living shadows. 

The final pieces of his wraps fell, but they did not scatter. They coiled around his waist, folding into themselves, forming something loose and flowing—baggy, rippling fabric that moved like shifting mist. 

Above him, a halo flickered into existence. 

It was not pristine, nor perfect. It was jagged, uneven, its dark pink glow mixed with streaks of gray, hovering over his head like a fractured crown. It pulsed, shifting erratically, as though it could barely contain the energy surging through his body. 

The ground beneath him trembled—not from movement, but from his heartbeat. 

thoom thoom 

thoom thoom 

Each pulse sent a deep, resonating vibration through the ruins, shaking the very bones of the city. 

Alaric and Grandbelle stood frozen, their faces locked in expressions of utter disbelief. 

Freina, still hovering in the air, narrowed her eyes. 

"A Jotyin…"

Her voice carried no surprise—only acknowledgment. "So Yuuna the devil is harboring not only one, but two of his children?"

But then, something in her expression shifted. Her gaze sharpened, focusing on Draeven's very essence, and her lips parted slightly. 

"No…" 

She floated forward, her divine presence pressing against the air itself, making it heavier, suffocating. 

"You have Yuuna's blood as well." 

She exhaled slowly, her grip tightening around her celestial bow. 

"Then you have to die. You Jotyin disgust me. How could the King of Sen bless some random seeds more than their own deities? Tch. They're basically gods."

She raised her weapon, an arrow forming once more, its energy burning with overwhelming divinity. 

"I'll make it quick if you tell me where Yuuna and Xyenn are." 

Before Draeven could respond, another force surged through the battlefield. 

Alaric took a step forward, his body beginning to glow. His golden armor pulsed, and then— 

His form began to shift. 

"I am a vessel of Vuben. You wanting to rip my continent apart just to force yourself on boy, and create a new race with him that'll do your bidding and be damn near invincible…is uncalled for. Vuben will die from lack of worship. Just as you are afraid of the cycle..so is he."

Draeven watched him, thinking, 'So cool…'

It was not a smooth transformation, nor was it gentle. His skin hardened, turning into something metallic. His muscles expanded, his very structure shifting as his body elongated. His fingers stretched into razor-sharp talons, gleaming like honed daggers. His back split open, but instead of blood, radiant golden light poured from within, spilling out like liquid fire. 

Wings erupted from his back—massive, plated in gilded scales, each feather-like extension shimmering with raw, arcane power. His face extended slightly, his jawline sharpening into something no longer human, his teeth glinting like sharpened treasures. His eyes—once deep brown—now burned with molten gold, their brilliance piercing through the darkness. 

And then, from the golden light behind him, something even greater emerged. 

Vuben. 

The Dragon God of Gold and Wealth. 

His form was not entirely physical, but neither was it ethereal. His massive draconic torso loomed behind Alaric, half-manifested, his golden scales glimmering like a sea of treasure beneath the sun. His eyes were ancient, piercing, filled with intelligence and authority. His wings, though translucent, spread wide, casting an immense shadow over the battlefield. 

And then Vuben spoke. 

"Freina."

Freina replied, "Tell your vessel to scurry back to his throne, Vuben!"

"You threaten my life? I have nothing more to say to you. You are just like Ezrael, a god's selfishness can only go so far. I heard in Gabriel's realm, the realm of the gods now destroyed, you tended to many of the deities, and the land itself."

"I went through hell birthing the creatures of this world! I can't suffer this cycle, it would've made what I've done invalid! And for Gabriel to even try and take in some girl from Hell…he had to be stopped. It took almost everyone to kill him. I must keep these memories, and hold my beautiful children in this world close; and they will know the pain I went through to breathe them into Kyrrin. I will start showing them now, that same pain. I will not lose to the cycle, I've been around too long!"

Grandbelle said, "You call us your 'beautiful' children, but want to massacre everyone!"

"I have been playing nice far too long! With every birth I gain worship, every fertile action leading to motherhood sustains my place in this fleeting life. But the clams and noble families that have been sustaining me the most..are gone. I will take the opportunity as I see fit. I have seen now that this world needs pain to fully grasp what life really is, as I have. That's the only way this world can grow; as a mother, that is my responsibility!"

Before another word could be spoken, the air shifted once more. 

A new presence seeped into the battlefield—slow, deliberate, suffocating. 

Then came the voice. 

"You had to go and do this… Freina." 

Emerging from the swirling darkness, Orin, the Dragon God of Blood, stepped forward. His movements were measured, the grace of a predator stalking its prey. Behind him, his Bloodmaidens moved in unison, their crimson armor glistening under the eerie light, their weapons gleaming with fresh hunger. 

Draeven looked at him, saying, "Wh-Who are they..?"

Orin said to Draeven, "Acquaintances of your Tyrant leader, child."

Freina's expression tensed. 

"Of course you've come to stop me…did you actually think I would listen to you?"

"I've risen from the blood of your precious 'children'. The elders have warned you about going after Yuuna. Lancelot even told you!"

"You're supposed to be on my side! You, and Death..you two helped me lead the rebellion against Gabriel! You and Death….you two joined the side of the demons! The same demons we hated in the realm of the gods! You and your little friendship with that devil Yuuna, and Death turning to Hell and ascending to a higher plane with the First Monarch's power!"

"Damn fool. You elder dragons used forbidden magic and cursed runes! And because of that, you've cursed the Sun-Drake to Hell."

"…Does it matter? As long as we have our power and worship, we'll continue to grow stronger, that way we won't need to die and go to Hell. Who's side are you on, anyway?"

"There you are." 

Descending from the sky like a silver comet, Sevyini, the Dragon Goddess of the Moon, arrived. 

Her presence was cold, but her silver eyes burned with fury. 

"You're going to answer for what you did to my people, Freina!"

Her words were sharp, laced with venom, but not the kind that exploded in rage—it was the slow, calculated wrath of someone who had waited too long for retribution. 

"You schemed against the Quen," she continued, her voice rising in accusation. "You used cursed runes to escape the Cycle of Rebirth, and now my people suffer for it. More of them are being taken by the Elder Dragon Gods' followers." 

Freina remained silent, her expression unreadable, her grip on her bow unwavering. 

Then, from the depths of the shadows, another figure emerged. 

The Dragon God of Shadows. 

He did not announce his presence. He simply appeared, floating in the air, his form twisting between solid and intangible. The very light around him warped, bending unnaturally as if the world itself refused to acknowledge his existence. His shadow assassins remained unseen, but their presence was undeniable, lurking in the darkness, waiting. 

Orin saw him, saying, "He actually came.."

'He claimed some of his assassins had died in this attack by Freina. They were out and about, and ready to take down a few evildoers…he's connected to his assassins…and as a deity, he feels it's his duty to fight.'

Nacht said to Freina, "I can't even believe I'm here, about to challenge Freina."

"You're the weakest god among us. You would be smart to not interfere."

"Heh. Even if I tried, my shadows won't let this go. We're a brotherhood, and I tend to uphold our oath. No deity or man, nor vessel will tear apart the brotherhood."

'I'm the weakest among us…I don't belong here…but I'm here. Upholding the oath of the brotherhood, to always be there when the members fall. An oath established after that battle against Xyenn. I saw the importance behind the connections he and his allies had…I figured maybe that's keeping him from being fearful. Though he doesn't go through the cycle as the gods, the connections between the brothers made me feel invincible. I realized I wasn't alone, I have a brotherhood of assassins who will die for one another. And as of right now, I'm fighting alongside powerful deities as well, and some weirdo grey kid with wraps of the power half of his body. Besides, Freina In this situation..is no different than the bastards that are villains in this world. I can't let this one escape. And on top of everything, I'll gain some respect amongst this group. No more of that weakest dragon god stuff. I'm strong because of the brotherhood. To fight against the gods who are stronger than me, just to uphold the oath of the brotherhood, I don't see myself as the weakest.'

Then again, deep inside, Nacht felt EXTREMELY better because Orin, Sevyini, and Vuben/Alaric were there. 

And then— 

A final arrival. 

The ground cracked. 

A single crystalline white arm pressed against the earth. 

The ground around it rippled, as if rejecting the presence of something so pure, so radiant. The arm began to expand, forming a body—a woman sculpted from pure white crystal, her form adorned with gems and rubies that shimmered like stars. 

She was a fragment of the All Mother. 

The Dragon Goddess of Radiance. 

Her halo, unlike Freina's jagged, unstable ring, was composed of floating gemstones, rotating in an elegant, celestial pattern above her head. 

In one hand, she held a shield made of glistening jewels, its surface impossibly smooth, reflecting every color of light. 

In the other, she wielded a sword of the same material, its edges impossibly sharp, gleaming with an aura of divine judgment. 

Orin grinned, "Seems you've accepted by invitation, All Mother."

She responded, "Do not make this a habit, Orin. I'm here to make sure this anomaly is dealt with. I've been waiting for this..for my rematch. The one who orchestrated the rebellion…I want to see her die personally. Then when she's reborn in the cycle, I want to see her killed off again. But know this, with 20% of my presence here, that does not mean I'm your ally."

"Yeah yeah whatever."

Freina finally exhaled, her grip tightening on her bow. 

"What's this?" she murmured, her gaze sweeping across the battlefield, taking in the figures that had gathered before her. 

"All of you… against me?" 

A slow, bitter smile touched her lips. 

"So be it." 

Freina hovered above the battlefield like a divine storm, her presence bending the air and shaking the earth. Her bow, alive with divine energy, pulsed in her hands as she surveyed the figures surrounding her: Draeven, with his overwhelming power; Alaric, whose hybrid dragon form crackled with molten gold light; Orin, flanked by his Bloodmaidens; Sevyini, cold and radiant under her moonlit domain; Nacht, lurking in the shadows with his assassins; and the crystalline fragment of the All Mother, her sheer presence glowing with ancient authority.

Freina's lips curled into a sharp, knowing smile as her voice cut through the oppressive silence. 

"One Jotyin… three deities… and a body part of the All Mother. You won't stop me." 

Freina's aura swelled, the air around her rippling with raw power. The green and gold light emanating from her bow grew brighter, coiling around her like a living storm. Energy surged at her fingertips, divine magic brewing in waves that made the ground crack and tremble beneath her. 

Her voice was calm, yet commanding, as she prepared to strike. "You've wasted your time gathering here. I'll tear through each of you and find what I need." 

But then, the sky began to shift. 

Freina's glowing eyes flicked upward in confusion as the light around her dimmed. The swirling gold and green energy surrounding her faltered slightly as shadows crept across the battlefield. The blackness wasn't natural—it seeped in like living ink, consuming the sky and blotting out the moons and stars. 

A cold smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She lowered her bow slightly, her tone mocking. "Darkness? Really? Is this Nacht's doing?" 

The shadows deepened, growing denser and more suffocating. Soon, the battlefield was plunged into an abyss of absolute black. Freina's form was barely visible, her golden energy the only light piercing the void. 

She chuckled to herself, her voice echoing unnaturally in the pitch black. "Shadows are nothing but the absence of light. You think this will stop me?" 

But then, the darkness began to shift. 

Shapes formed within the inky void—faint, flickering images like memories surfacing from the depths of a forgotten dream. 

Freina's smile disappeared as the illusions took shape around her. The shadows were no longer formless. They began to move, to twist, to create. 

A beautiful land emerged from the black, vibrant and alive, glowing with a surreal, dreamlike quality. Rolling green fields stretched to the horizon, rivers sparkled like molten silver, and mountains rose high, their peaks crowned with clouds. The sky above was painted with radiant hues of gold and blue, and the world seemed untouched, perfect. 

Freina's gaze hardened. She knew this place. 

This was Gabriel's realm. The cradle of the draconic deities. 

Her breath hitched as her eyes fell on the small tree at the center of the vision. Its branches were low and delicate, and beneath it lay a cluster of tiny red seeds—the Jotyin seeds. 

For a moment, Freina's expression softened. 

She remembered them. She remembered tending to them, nurturing them. For a time, she had cared for the seeds with a devotion that rivaled her love for her own creations. She had whispered prayers over them, protected them, believed in their potential. 

But the memories began to sour. 

The seeds had been stolen from her. Taken from her care. She had been betrayed, abandoned, left to fend for herself in a world that sought to erase her. 

Her expression darkened, her body trembling with rage as her divine energy flared violently. 

"Enough!" 

Her scream shattered the illusion. 

The beautiful landscape crumbled into nothingness, the rivers evaporating, the skies splitting apart like glass. The Jotyin seeds dissolved into ash as the vision collapsed, leaving only Freina standing amidst the void. 

And then, the blackness fell away, replaced by moonlight. 

She found herself standing on a vast, moonlit platform. The ground beneath her shimmered like silver, reflecting the glow of countless moons hanging in the sky above. The stars swirled in intricate, mesmerizing patterns, the entire sky shifting and flowing like a living tapestry. 

Freina's hands clenched into fists, her teeth bared in fury. "You think you can contain me in a domain?" she snarled, her voice echoing across the platform. "I am Freina, the Dragon Goddess of Birth, Fertility, and Motherhood! No domain can hold me!" 

Orin stepped forward, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight. His voice was calm, yet unyielding. "We're not trying to contain you, Freina. We're holding you off. Enough to finish you off before you enter the final domain."

Freina's eyes snapped toward him, her fury intensifying. "The final domain? What nonsense are you scheming now, Orin?" 

Sevyini stepped forward, her silver hair flowing like liquid starlight. Her cold, piercing gaze locked onto Freina. "A weaker dragon god's domain can be overtaken by a stronger one. Nacht's domain came first, and you shattered it." She gestured to the glowing moons and swirling sky. "This is mine." 

Freina's glare shifted to Sevyini, who held her ground, her expression calm but filled with cold fury. 

"You will answer to me, Freina," Sevyini said. "For what you've done to my people. For how you schemed against the Quen, using cursed runes to escape the Cycle of Rebirth. You'll answer for the lives you've stolen and the chaos you've caused." 

Freina let out a low growl, her divine energy flaring, cracking the platform beneath her feet. "Wasn't my doing, just went along with it. Did what we needed to do until we were ready to take Yuuna's heart. The cursed runes were our backup, and it worked."

Sevyini's tone dropped, cold and sharp. "..I will make you answer. And if I must, I will use you to lead me to the other Elder Dragon Gods." 

Freina's lips curled into a bitter smile. "That's fine if you have a death wish. The other Elders will slaughter you. The Quen will be wiped out in due time, just like everything else."

She raised her bow slightly, her smile fading into something far more desperate and savage. "I can't wait any longer. For centuries, I've harbored this fear of the Cycle of Rebirth, and it's driven me to the edge. I'll find Yuuna and take her heart. But first… I'll force a son with Xyenn, and then I'll take Yuuna's heart. The new race of hybrids I will shepherd into Kyrrin, will start the new age of obedience."

Draeven said, "What's the point of trying to force a hybrid child out of Xyenn then if you're gonna take Yuuna's heart to escape the cycle?"

The Lysfødt answered, "That's because she's lying."

Freina winced at her, saying, "What?"

"She's afraid of me, and my full body. Knowing if she was to go to war with me alone, she would lose. She wants to create a race from Xyenn, and since he's a Jotyin, their offspring will be indeed powerful. She's looking to create a vessel, so she can be strong enough to take me down once she merges with her offspring. She doesn't care about the worship anymore, it's about becoming the perfect mother of Kyrrin, like she was in the realm of the gods. She had always known about what I wanted, Orin has been going back and forth telling what we have been speaking of, about me reviving Gabriel."

"Shut up.."

"She sees me as an obstacle, so she's doing what it takes. She knows I will not let her pry Yuuna's heart from my grasp. She knows in the future she will have to go to war with my full body once she merges with a child born from a Jotyin. She plans to use her offspring to kill Yuuna as well, and then fight me in the end."

"It doesn't matter. I'm an elder, my power far exceeds those of normal draconic mana. I'm an elder…an elder!"

"So is Orin."

"I've always hated you, all of you Light Born. Calling yourself the All Mother, that title belongs to me only."

"I'm an All Mother because I'm the source of Kyrrin's radiance, and his creation."

"I'll take you down..I'll take you all down! 

The Lysfødt stepped forward, her crystalline body shimmering in the moonlight. Her voice rang out, clear and resonant. "That won't be happening." 

Freina turned her gaze to the radiant figure, her eyes narrowing. 

Freina's expression twisted with anger. "You won't accomplish anything if you stay hidden in your realm, too afraid to show your full form. Too afraid to wipe out half of humanity with just one flick of your finger."

The Lysfødt tilted her head slightly, her voice unwavering. "I will not risk it, until the day you come to me."

She raised her shield, its surface glowing with radiant energy. "This world was made with radiance, and I will ensure it remains that way. I will not let it be ruined by your desperation." 

Freina's energy flared violently, the moons trembling overhead as the platform cracked beneath their feet. 

The battlefield fell silent, the air still for a fleeting moment. Freina stood in the moonlit domain, her divine form radiating strength and fury. The moons above cast their gentle glow, their light refracting off the cracks in the silver platform below. 

And then, the wind began to shift. 

At first, it was soft and peaceful, a breeze that whispered through the air as if mourning the chaos surrounding them. But the calm didn't last. The wind grew stronger, rougher, carrying with it a strange, unnatural energy. It whipped around the platform, tugging at the clothes and hair of those present. The air itself seemed alive, charged with something ancient and foreboding. 

Then it came. 

A deep, resonant bell toll. 

The sound was otherworldly, unlike any bell that could have been crafted by mortal hands. It was low and guttural, vibrating through the air like the groan of something ancient awakening from slumber. The sound carried weight, as though each toll pressed down on their souls. 

*GONG.* 

The first toll was loud, reverberating through the moonlit sky. It echoed endlessly, the sound bouncing off the swirling heavens above them. 

*GONG.* 

The second toll was louder, more menacing, and the vibrations seemed to reach deep into the bones of everyone present. 

Grandbelle, who had remained quiet until now, tensed and glanced up at the sky. His molten gold eyes flickered with unease as he gripped his weapon tighter. "What is that?" he whispered, his voice trembling ever so slightly. 

Draeven, standing motionless with his crimson eyes burning, narrowed his gaze. The bell's toll was familiar to him, a memory buried deep in the corners of his mind. He muttered under his breath, almost as if to himself. "I've heard this before..." 

'A Prophet!'

And then, as the third GONG rang out, something appeared in the sky. 

Floating high above them was a man—or at least, something resembling one. His form was ragged and filthy, his clothes torn and stained with blood and dirt. His beard was unkempt, a thick, dirty brown mass that clung to his face. His eyes were hollow, yet from them spilled streams of crimson tears, running down his cheeks like rivers of blood. He floated erratically, his movements jerky and unnatural, like a marionette controlled by an unseen hand. 

The bell continued to toll as the man twisted in the air, his limbs twitching and flailing. His head snapped from side to side as he let out a loud, crazed laugh, the sound echoing like a shriek through the moonlit domain. 

"The end is near!" he screamed, his voice cracking with hysteria. "The Demon King will ascend! The gods will fall!" 

He threw his arms wide, his head tilting back as though he were welcoming some unseen force. "The cycle will shatter! And the world will burn!" 

Freina's glowing eyes turned upward, locking onto the figure. A smile crept across her lips, cold and knowing. She watched him with a strange mix of amusement and disdain, her divine aura flaring softly as she stepped forward. 

"Do you know who I am?" she asked, her voice calm but carrying an edge of authority that cut through the tolling bell. 

The Prophet stopped his erratic movements for a moment, his head snapping toward her, his bloodstained eyes wide and unblinking. He didn't answer, only stared at her with a crooked grin. 

Freina began to speak, her voice growing louder, filled with ancient pride. 

"I am Freina, the Dragon Goddess of Birth, Fertility, and Motherhood. I birthed the creatures of Kyrrin. The humans, the elves, the beasts of the land—I gave them life, shaping their forms with my hands. I birthed the mountains, raised them from the earth with my breath. I carved the rivers, weaving them into the land like veins. The streams, the forests, the rolling plains—they were all my creations. I gave this world its form. I gave it life. Creation was my worship, it is my power."

Her tone darkened, her voice losing its warmth as her expression twisted into something cold and sharp. 

"But you…" she said, her eyes narrowing. "You are not human." 

The Prophet's grin faltered, his body twitching violently as the blood tears flowed faster from his eyes. 

Freina tilted her head slightly, her voice filled with disdain. "Whatever creature you are… whatever twisted imitation of humanity you represent… I can tell. You've been in the whispers of many gods in Gabriel's realm, 'The Ones Who Watch Us', they say." She raised her hand slowly, summoning her power. White and green flames erupted around her, spiraling upward like living serpents. Her aura flared brighter, the sheer force of it causing cracks to form beneath her feet. "I did not birth you." 

From her back, a spiritual form began to stretch outward. It was massive, a spectral projection of her divine essence. The ethereal figure mirrored her, with glowing white and green flames encasing its form like armor. Its arms extended wide, and in its hands, it held an identical bow and arrow, burning with the same divine fire. 

The Prophet let out a piercing laugh, his body convulsing violently. "The end is near!" he shrieked. "The Demon King will rise! The gods will—" 

Freina's spiritual form drew the bowstring back with inhuman speed. The arrow of flames formed instantly, its light blinding as it burned brighter than the moonlight itself. 

Her real body remained still, her glowing eyes fixed on the Prophet. "And so will you fall." 

The arrow shot forward with impossible speed, tearing through the air with a deafening roar. It struck the Prophet before he could finish his sentence. 

The force of the impact was catastrophic. The arrow detonated mid-air, releasing a blinding explosion of white and green flames. The Prophet's body was obliterated, reduced to a gory mist of blood and viscera that rained down from the sky. The sound of the explosion echoed endlessly, a violent crescendo that silenced even the tolling bell. 

The flames lingered for a moment, burning in the sky like a divine warning before they faded into nothingness. 

Freina lowered her hand, her spiritual form still glowing behind her as she turned to face the others. 

The battlefield was silent again, save for the faint crackling of the residual flames that lingered in the air. 

She turned her attention to everyone else, saying with a menacing look and tone, a hint of deadly intent in her eye. "What are you all waiting for? Stop me."