CHAPTER 12

 No Gods, No Graves

 The Final Match Wasn't the End—It Was the Beginning.

 Whispers of rebellion echo beneath cracked stone. A godless prophet bleeds shadows in a village that forgot its name.

 Now the siblings descend. Not as heroes. Not as saviors.

 But as executioners.

They came for blood.

 But the stars scream of a fate even gods fear.

After the final match ended and the crowd dispersed with awe, fear, and disdain thick in the air, the siblings were ushered back into the arena's changing halls.

Whispers slithered through the corridors.

"Did you see how the boy smiled?"

"They don't bleed like us."

"Monsters in flesh."

In the male chamber, Kael wiped blood off his chest with a bored sigh. The room was heavy with tension. The divine guards avoided looking at him. Then the scent of phantom ash and cold metal swept in. One of the Ashen Creed approached—face pale, robes bloodstained, expression venomous.

"Well, well," the phantom sneered. "Even a dog can win a fight if you give it enough teeth."

Kael didn't blink. "Funny. I didn't know corpses could talk."

The Creed's face darkened, rage boiling just beneath the surface. He took a step forward—but his brother, another ghostly fighter, caught his shoulder with a quiet shake of his head.

Kael smirked, mockingly polite. "Run along, bone puppet."

In the female changing room, Aelina sat calmly on a bench, slowly plucking strands from the matted fur of a dead creature nestled in her lap—something that had clearly been killed multiple times for fun. Nyra stood against the wall, shadows curling faintly at her feet. Gods, demigods, and creature-kin sneered and whispered from the corners.

"She doesn't even blink," someone hissed. "Like she's empty inside."

An Ashen Creed woman stepped closer, smirking. "Enjoy it while it lasts. You won't always be your goddess's toys."

Nyra and Aelina walked right past her without a word. Just as the Creed opened her mouth to spit another insult, a pulse of telepathic energy slammed into their minds—Zephyrus.

"Maevhara demands your presence."

Kael's voice responded dryly into the shared link. "You're still alive? Damn. I thought useless things expired."

Zephyrus nearly choked on rage.

Before he could respond, another presence cut in—Maevhara's.

"Enough. Come to my domain. Now."

The siblings arrived at Maevhara's divine domain, a storm-veiled palace carved into the bones of ancient titans. Zephyrus waited at the massive gates, glaring.

Kael gave him a blank stare, then flicked an invisible speck off his shoulder with mocking grace. Nyra and Aelina brushed past him as if he were nothing.

Inside the obsidian throne room, Maevhara stood before a glowing map etched in divine fire. Her voice rang cold:

"You are to descend to the mortal realm. A faction of rebels has risen from the ashes of my conquered lands—calling themselves the Children of Verdant Ash. You are to annihilate them. No survivors. No symbols left standing. They hide behind a prophet twisted by chaos magic. End them."

She raised a hand, summoning a portal made of woven light and shadow. It pulsed golden, yet its edges bled violet-black tendrils, whispering madness.

Kael stepped forward, cracking his neck. "What's the pay?"

Maevhara's lips curled. "What do you ask?"

The siblings exchanged a glance. Then all three smiled—a dark, soulless grin.

"Ten million," Nyra said softly. "Each. In gold, silver, and nightmare coins."

Zephyrus exploded, "Are you insane?! That's—!"

Maevhara raised a single finger. He went silent instantly, fury choking his words.

"If the mission is done," she said, "you will receive every coin. If not…"

Kael interrupted, "Yeah, yeah. We know. 'Fail and you get nothing, blah blah, heads on spikes, eternal torment, yawn.' Let's go."

Nyra walked into the portal without a word.

Aelina followed, still petting her dead creature.

Kael winked at Zephyrus. "Miss me."

Maevhara stood silent for a moment, then turned to the shadows.

"Why, Master?" Zephyrus asked through clenched teeth. "I still don't understand—why must we put up with these obnoxious brats?"

She didn't answer. But in her mind, a whisper echoed:

"Three shall fall into the ash of rebellion, bearing no banners, answering to no gods. And the world will tremble… because even death will fear them."

 The Mortal Realm

Ruins of Bael'Shakar

The portal tore open with a sound like a scream swallowed by the void. The siblings stepped through, one by one.

They emerged in a land forgotten by time and mercy.

The village of Bael'Shakar was nothing but a corpse—barely standing, barely breathing. The sky above was rusted red, a permanent twilight suffocating the horizon. Ash drifted like snow. The wind carried the stench of decay and long-dead prayers.

Burned prayer scrolls fluttered across the cracked stone roads. The statue of Maevhara had been decapitated, her head impaled on a broken pike in the village square. Crimson vines wrapped around desecrated altars, pulsing faintly as if they were alive—feeding on forgotten worship.

Children peeked from shattered windows. Eyes wide. Hollow. Hope had been buried long ago.

Aelina ran her fingers along the vines. They recoiled from her touch.

"There's blood in them," she said softly. "And screams."

Kael crouched near a toppled brazier, brushing aside bones. "These people didn't just lose faith. Something tore it out of them."

Nyra knelt in the dust, drawing a rune in the ash. It shimmered dark violet.

"They've made a pact," she whispered. "With something old. Not a god. Not quite a demon either. It's... watching us."

From behind them, an old man gasped. He dropped his sack of broken roots and stumbled backward, mumbling a chant to the stars. Nyra looked over her shoulder, but said nothing. He vanished into the fog.

Kael stood. "Guess they remember who we are."

"No," Nyra said. "They remember what comes after us."

On the edge of the ruins stood a shattered temple wrapped in thorn and bone. Symbols in blood circled the doorway. A lantern swung from a hook above it—though there was no wind. It cast no light.

A name burned itself into Kael's mind as he stared at the temple.

Tharrox the Hollowed.

 The prophet. The traitor. The one who bleeds shadows and weeps stars.

Next Chapter Tease:

 They came to kill a prophet.

 But the stars whisper otherwise.

 And something is watching them from below.