The capital city of Solmaria was silent under a blood-red sky. The once-pristine white spires of the Holy Church were now cracked and darkened by ash and chaos. A massive eclipse loomed overhead, dimming all light. The people—those who had survived the Creator's wrath—hid in fear, not of demons, but of what had once been their God.
Masaru stood at the gates of the ruined cathedral, Adolpha and Himari beside him. A thousand emotions warred in his chest—rage, sorrow, determination. The Church, the very foundation of the world that betrayed him, stood before him like a decaying monument to lies.
"Are you ready for this?" Himari asked, placing a hand on Masaru's arm. Her voice was calm, but her glowing eyes betrayed a hint of worry. Light shimmered around her like a halo, even under the eclipsed sky.
"There's no going back now," Masaru replied. His grip tightened on the black blade, which pulsed with dark energy. "It's time to drag the truth into the light."
Adolpha growled lowly. Her fur was bristling with dark mist, fangs bared as she sniffed the air. "I can smell him... the High Cardinal. He's waiting."
Masaru gave a nod, then stepped into the shattered cathedral. The once-grand hall was a graveyard of broken statues, torn banners, and splintered pews. The air stank of incense and old blood.
On the dais, cloaked in ceremonial gold and crimson robes, stood High Cardinal Velenius—the man who led the Church during Masaru's final days in his past life. His face was older, wearier, but those same pitiless eyes burned with fanaticism.
"Welcome back, Hero," Velenius said, voice echoing like a sermon. "You return not to save the world, but to destroy it."
Masaru walked forward slowly, each step deliberate. "I returned because you made me a villain in a world I died protecting."
Velenius spread his arms. "Then face judgment in the house of the Divine."
Behind him, rows of Purifiers—elite holy knights—emerged from the shadows, weapons drawn. Shields gleamed, swords hummed with enchantments, and magic circles lit up the floor.
Himari's wings unfurled in a brilliant burst of light. Adolpha snarled and lunged forward.
Masaru's blade cracked with energy. "Let the Creator watch as his puppets fall."
The final battle for faith had begun.
Chapter 34: Embrace of the End - Part 2
Darkness lingered at the edge of the horizon, a creeping shadow swallowing the last rays of celestial light. Asura stood silent before the broken pillars of the Creator's former sanctuary, blood still dripping from the tip of his blade. The echoes of his last confrontation still reverberated through the sacred void, and for the first time since his reincarnation, Asura felt the cold emptiness that came with vengeance fulfilled.
But it wasn't truly fulfilled. Not yet.
He turned toward the collapsed figure of Elyria, the divine scribe who once served the Creator. She had been spared, not out of mercy, but necessity. Her memories were the last link to truths buried beneath divine lies. Asura walked toward her, boots cracking bones and divine glass with each step.
"Tell me where he hides," Asura demanded, voice devoid of any remaining empathy.
Elyria groaned, lifting her bloodied face. "He's not hiding. He's watching. He always watches. Even now."
Asura grabbed her by the collar and hoisted her into the air. "Then I'll burn every inch of this reality until he's forced to face me."
A low rumble shook the void, and the air cracked with heat and divine resistance. Asura turned his gaze skyward. There it was — the celestial fracture.
A line of golden fire split the sky, widening until it revealed a realm of white flame and shifting forms. The Realm of Origins. The throne of the Creator. The moment had come.
Behind Asura, souls rose — those he had freed, those wronged by the divine. Among them, Lira, his former lover, now reborn as a spirit of rebellion, touched his shoulder. "You don't have to do this alone."
He didn't answer, but her presence steadied him. With a step forward, he ascended through the rift.
The Realm of Origins was blinding, pure and sterile, the complete opposite of the chaos he had embraced. It stank of false order and judgment. Angels circled him, weapons drawn, but hesitated. They could feel it — Asura wasn't a mortal, nor god. He was something beyond.
"Creator!" Asura's voice roared, causing the entire realm to tremble. "I am here. Show yourself!"
The white light shimmered, and from it emerged a figure. Clad in robes woven from the first starlight, eyes like twin suns, the Creator stepped forward. His expression was serene, but the power behind it made galaxies quake.
"You have come far, child," the Creator said, voice echoing like eternity. "Too far."
"You destroyed my world. You made me your puppet, then cast me aside."
"I created balance," the Creator responded calmly. "But balance is broken when mortals crave power."
"You fear mortality," Asura hissed. "Because it defies you."
Without warning, Asura lunged. Blade of Abyssal Flame met divine radiance. The clash lit up the entire plane, shockwaves tearing apart entire layers of the realm. Stars screamed, time fractured.
The battle was beyond anything the cosmos had ever known. Creation magic spiraled with death's entropy. The Creator summoned chains of light, attempting to bind Asura's soul. But Asura had no soul to bind — only wrath.
He shattered the chains and plunged his blade into the Creator's side. The divine being staggered, the first blood he'd spilled in millennia dripping into the void.
"You are the end, Asura," the Creator gasped. "But what comes after the end?"
Asura paused.
What came after?
He looked back. Behind the rift, the freed souls waited. Watching. Hoping.
Asura raised his hand, calling forth all the power he had consumed — gods, titans, forgotten deities. It surged within him, a maelstrom of creation and destruction.
"After the end... comes rebirth."
With one final scream, Asura unleashed everything.
The Realm of Origins shattered.
And the universe began anew.