Chapter 10: The Shatter of Crestoria

A demigod, Hades stood like a living wound in the world, bare-chested, skin the color of fresh blood, white rugged pants clinging to his frame, and twin horizontal horns jutting from his head like sharpened blades. His bright yellow eyes glowed with the confidence of one who had never lost a battle.

Beside him, Sariel towered tall, with flowing blue hair and mocking yellow eyes. The air rippled as he raised his hand, and from the ground emerged several twisted figures. They were barely human, draped in black ceremonial robes stitched with scripture, their arms grotesquely long, faces hidden beneath veils. The Divine Humans moved like shadows given flesh.

Louille gritted his teeth, raising his claymore. “We take them together—”

He never finished his words. Hades blurred forward in a scarlet streak, his kick slamming into Louille's weapon mid-swing. The impact rattled Louille's arms to the bone, forcing him back several paces.

Kinana roared and lunged in from the side, her red hammer whistling through the air. Hades caught the massive weapon with one hand, the sheer strength of the demigod making it seem as if he were striking a mountain. His smirk deepened as he shoved her back like swatting an insect.

“Weak.” Hades muttered.

From the corner of Louille's eye, movement. A Divined Human had slipped behind Neema, its long arms raised like scythes.

“Neema, MOVE!” Louille shouted, throwing himself between them. His claymore clashed with inhuman limbs, sparks flying. He forced the creature back, but when he looked at her—

She was frozen. Trembling.

Sariel's voice cuts through the chaos, smooth and venomous. "I heard the runaway princess has returned. And yet… she does nothing. Useless."

Neema's breath caught. His words sliced deeper than any blade. Her mind flashed to her little sister's smile… her father's cold, disappointed gaze. Her grip on her umbrella tightened, but her feet still wouldn't move.

Hades came at Louille again, moving so fast the ground cracked beneath each step. Kinana intercepted him, hammer swinging wildly, but every strike was caught, parried, or simply avoided. The Divined Humans swarmed, their stitched veils swaying, scripture glowing faintly as they reached for mortal flesh.

The three of them were being pushed back. Mortals against demigods. They wouldn't last much longer.

A voice rang out, sharp and desperate.

"Kinana! Neema!"

Lyon burst into the courtyard, chest heaving, sword in hand. Behind him, Princess Jorelle followed at a measured pace, eyes still closed, serene as if the battle did not exist. Then, just for a moment, her lids lifted the slightest bit, a faint smile curling her lips.

“Caught you.” Jorelle murmured, her voice almost lost in the chaos.

In the blink of an eye, a silver surface shimmered into existence behind Hades. The demigod's movements froze mid-strike as his entire form was swallowed into the mirror's depths. Inside, his massive frame slams against a prison of gleaming glass, each pane reflecting a dozen furious versions of himself.

Sariel's lips curved in amusement, golden eyes glinting. “Interesting trick… but you shouldn't underestimate a demigod of the underworld.” His long finger pointed toward the trapped Hades.

From within, Hades drew back his arm. His fist crashed into the mirror with an earth-shaking boom. Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface, and with one final roar, the prison shattered into a thousand shards.

He surged forward through the splintered light, landing heavily on the ground. His eyes locked on Jorelle, feral and hungry.

In less than a heartbeat, he vanished and reappeared right before her, fist arcing upward like a red blur.

Slow motion seemed to take hold. Jorelle's lips curved into a faint smile as a new mirror appeared, directly in the path of her strike. The glass rippled like water as his arm passed through, only to emerge in front of him, driving his own fist square into his face.

The sound was sickeningly satisfying.

The demigod staggered back from the force of his own power, blood the color of cobalt blue dripping from his nose.

“If you punch yourself and it hurts,” Jorelle said sweetly, tilting her head, “does that mean you're strong… or just very, very weak?”

Hades chuckled darkly, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. “Not done yet.”

From his shoulders, two new arms tore their way free, stretching and flexing as the air around him warped with heat.

Lyon moved without thinking, stepping between Neema and the chaos, his sword low but ready. He could feel her trembling behind him, and his eyes never left the two demigods.

“Lyon…” Neema whispered.

Louille's boots scraped against the cracked marble as he stepped forward, his claymore already lifted and infused with flames.

“Neema, cover me!” he told Neema briefly, before breaking into a sprint toward Hades.

The crimson-skinned demigod met him head-on. Louille's blade came down in a flurry of strikes, each blow ringing like hammer on steel as Hades caught them on his four arms. Sparks danced with every impact, the air thrumming from the force.

Every counterpunch Hades threw was met with a sudden shimmer of light. Neema, her hands trembling but steady enough, conjuring a transparent-white shield around Louille each time. The blows landed like thunder, but her magic held.

Kinana saw her opening. With a roar, she swung her hammer down into the ground. The earth split like a wound, jagged cracks racing beneath Hades' feet. He faltered, his stance breaking for the first time.

“Now!” Louille charged, both hands gripping his claymore as he prepared a final, fatal arc.

But in that moment, the air behind Hades warped and one of Sariel's divined humans materialized, its shrouded face turned toward Louille. With an unnerving speed, its elongated arm shoots forward like a spear.

The strike punched clean through Louille's stomach.

His breath caught.

The claymore slipped from his fingers.

Blood spilled hot against the cold stone as he staggered, the divine human's veiled head tilting in silent mockery before he withdrew his arm.

“Louille!” Lyon shouted.

The moment felt like déjà vu.

No.

Lyon realized, it wasn't time repeating. It was him.

His eyes shifted, the colors bleeding away until his eyes shone molten gold. He saw it happen before it did.

Louille lunging at Hades, the ground cracking beneath the demigod, the perfect moment for the strike—

“Louille, duck!” Lyon roared.

Without hesitation, Louille dropped low, the first divined human's spear-arm whistling harmlessly over his head.

“Jump!” Lyon barked next, almost before Louille's feet touched the ground. Louille sprang upward, just as a second divined human's strike carved empty air where his legs had been.

But the danger wasn't over. Mid-air, the third attacker materialized, blade-hand poised to impale Louille before he landed. Lyon was already moving. Sword flashing, he intercepted the blow with a ringing clash, forcing the creature back.

They hit the ground together, side by side, retreating a few steps until they stood shoulder to shoulder.

For a heartbeat, silence.

Then all eyes turned toward Lyon.

Neema's shield shimmered faintly, her expression frozen in awe. Even Kinana, hammer still in hand, looked at him with new respect.

Sariel's low chuckle broke the quiet. It rose, uncoiling into a boom, delighted laugh.

“Mortal now days,” he said, voice dripping with amusement, “are far more entertaining.”

Then the sunlight dimmed.

A vast shadow fell over the ruins of the town. Above them, King Doherty floats in the distance, his black-and-gold robes snapping violently in the wind. Beneath him, magic spiraled into shape—forming a sword the size of a tower.

“Run!” Louille's voice cracked with urgency.

They obeyed instantly, scattering down the fractured streets.

The king's voice thundered from the sky as the sword dropped like divine judgment. Sariel vanished in a blink. Hades, however, grinned wickedly, reaching out to catch the blade by its tip.

The king snarled and poured more weight into the weapon, forcing it down. The impact roared like the heavens collapsing, shattering buildings, cratering the streets, and sending waves of destruction through the town.

The shockwave ripped toward them.

Without thinking, Lyon grabbed Neema, pulling her close as he turned his body into a shield. They hit the ground together, his arms tightening around her as the blast tore past, swallowing the world in dust and rubble.

Dust like a thick fog blanketed the ruined town. Lyon slowly opened his eyes, bracing for the worst, only to realize they were unharmed. A shimmering barrier encased them, Neema's doing.

Around them, the streets lay in chaos, shattered stone, splintered beams, and silence broken only by the crackle of distant flames.

Neema, still lying on the ground, found her gaze locked with Lyon's. He was above her, shielding her. The air between them turned awkward until she shoved him off, her cheeks faintly flushed.

From a short distance, a floating mirror shimmers into view. Louille, Kinana, and finally Jorelle, her eyes still closed has stepped out, the glass dissolving behind them.

Across the wreckage, Hades stood motionless. His arms were gone, blue blood gushing from the stumps. Slowly, his head tilted upward, and new arms burst forth in an instant.

“I had fun!” he shouted then covering his face with one hand. His voice trembled with excitement as his back muscles twitched, his body growing larger.

Louille and Lyon tensed, ready for another clash—

Suddenly, a hand tapped Hades on the shoulder.

Tall figure with long white hair flowing like silk and crimson eyes cold and unshaken.

Samael.

“Stop.” Samael said, his tone absolute.

Hades' excitement dimmed to a smoke. "Samael. Don't interfere. Why are you here? You're supposed to be in Reuben."

“There's something urgent.” Samael replied.

A sudden presence appeared behind them. Sariel. His tone was light, almost mocking. "Oh? And what would that be?"

“A mortal. Dangerous.” Samael said.

Sariel tilted his head. "And who might that be?"

"Black hair. Hollow red eyes. Eye bags. A scar across his face."

Sariel's lips curled. "I knew it. That mortal felt wrong."

Hades scoffed. "If it's just a mortal, why worry?"

"Even Abaddon fears him." Samael said flatly.

“An immortal demigod… afraid?” Hades muttered, genuinely taken aback.

At the name, something inside Lyon snapped. His voice tore from his throat before he could stop it. “Bring Abaddon here!” he roared.

His grip tightened on his sword, the memory clawing at him, a hollow mask watching from the shadows, a gaze that didn't belong to anything human.

Sariel's voice cuts like a knife. “Know your place, mortal. We can comeback at any times.”

A low hum of power rolled through the air. The world around them seemed to flicker, like a candle in the wind. Then in an instant, the space the three demigods occupied became empty, as if they had never been there at all. No footsteps. No parting words. Only the faint, lingering weight of their presence, heavy enough to make the air hard to breathe.

“Wait!” Lyon shouted.

But he can’t do anything about it only wrath overflowed inside him.