Chapter 3: The Price of a Spark

  The roar echo hadn’t even faded before the air began to feel eazy. Then, the shadows beneath the quartz trees didn’t just move—they curdled.

  The Warden Beast was a monstrosity of obsidian fur and jagged bone plates, standing ten feet tall with cyan runes pulsing like a failing heartbeat across its ribs. Massive antlers crackled with blue electricity, and its red eyes locked onto them with a hunger that felt heavy, like a physical weight pressing against their chests.

  Ren stared, and for a second, his heart felt like it was in his throat.His heart felt like a trapped bird slamming against the bars of his ribs. He stood frozen, scared and trembling in fear of the beast.

  “Ren let’s go” Vex shouted. She didn’t wait for him. She was a professional.

  Vex blurred into motion, her daggers spinning in a deadly arc. She used the environment, kicking off a quartz pillar to launch herself above the beast’s line of sight. With a guttural yell, she drove both blades into the creature’s neck.

  The beast roared, the sound vibrating in Ren’s marrow, but it wasn’t down. It twisted with terrifying agility, its massive, whip-like tail catching Vex mid-air. She managed to cross her arms to block, but the sheer force sent her hurtling backward. She smashed into a towering crystal pillar, the impact ringing out like a cracked bell. She slumped into the shards, the light in her daggers flickering out.

  “Vex!” Lyra’s face went pale. She stood her ground, her fingers plucking the air as she wove a kinetic shield. She managed to deflect a blast of lightning from the beast’s antlers, the sheer pressure forcing her to her knees. “Ren! Do something! I can’t hold it!”

  The beast lunged, Its massive weight shattering Lyra’s barrier like glass. It pinned her down, its claws furrowing the earth. It opened its jaws, a cold, cyan glow gathering in its throat—a breath of pure annihilation aimed straight at her head.

  Ren watched, the world slowing to a crawl. I’m useless, he thought, his breath hitching. I’m just a ghost inhabitant in a hero’s skin. I can’t protect anyone.

  But then he saw Lyra’s eyes. She wasn’t looking at him as a God or a King. She was looking at him as a friend who didn’t want to die.

  “REN!” she shrieked, her voice cracking with a raw, jagged terror.

  The sound of his name snapped the final thread of his paralysis. The fear didn’t vanish—it transformed. It became a cold, violent pressure in his veins.

  Ren moved.

  He didn’t use a stance. He didn’t even draw his swords. He simply stepped forward, and the ground beneath his boots turned to dust.

  He reached the beast just as its jaws began to snap shut. Ren pulled his arm back, his fist glowing with a concentrated, terrifying void-light that seemed to swallow the ambient glow of the forest.

  He punched.

  The physics of the world seemed to scream in protest. When his fist connected with the creature’s ribs, it wasn’t just a hit—it was an atmospheric event. A shockwave erupted from the point of impact, flattening the quartz trees for fifty yards in every direction.

  The beast didn't just fly; It was erased. Ren’s fist punched a gaping hole clean through the center of its torso, disintegrating muscle and bone instantly. The remains of the creature were propelled through the air with such velocity that they vaporized before hitting the cliffside in the distance.

  Silence returned, heavy and ringing.

  Ren stood there, his armored sleeve smoking, his hand still clenched. The violet glow faded, leaving him in the dim moonlight. He looked down at Lyra, his chest heaving, the “God Killer” aura vanishing instantly to reveal the shaky, anxious teenager underneath.

  “Are… are you okay?” he whispered, his voice small and cracking.

  Ren stood over Lyra, his hand trembling as the last wisps of smoke drifted from his knuckles. The sheer scale of the destruction he’d just unleashed made his stomach churn.

  The Warden Beast was gone, leaving nothing but a foul-smelling pile of ash in the crater. Ren stood there for a second, his shadow stretching long across the broken quartz. He didn’t look like a hero; he looked like he was made of stone.

  “Ren? You okay?” Lyra asked, stepping toward him cautiously.

  Ren didn’t answer. A sudden, sharp pain lanced through his skull, like a hot needle being driven behind his eyes. The world tilted. The vibrant colors of the forest smeared together into a messy blur of purple and gray. He tried to take a step, but his legs felt like they were made of water.

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  He hit the ground hard, his knees slamming into the moss.

  “Ren!” Lyra cried, rushing to his side and grabbing his shoulder.

  Ren didn’t hear her. His vision was swimming with black spots. He felt a wave of intense nausea roll over him, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. He leaned over and retched, vomiting onto the floor of the trees. His stomach cramped painfully, and every heave made his head throb with a pulse of white-hot agony.

  “Vex! Help him! Do something.” Lyra yelled, her voice high and panicked.

  Vex knelt on his other side, her hands glowing with a soft healing light. She pressed her palms to his temples, trying to dull the migraine, but Ren flinched away from the touch. His mind was back in the apartment, feeling the vibration of his father’s heavy footsteps on the thin floorboards.

  “Stop it,” Ren groaned, his voice thick and slurred. He clutched his head, his fingers digging into his scalp. “Too loud… it’s too loud.”

  “It’s just us, Ren. It’s quiet,” Vex whispered, her face tight with worry. She looked at Lyra and shook her head. “Come on let’s get you out of here we’ll … take you home.”

  Ren lay there on the dirt, gasping for air, his face pale and slick with sweat. The “God Killer” aura had vanished completely, leaving behind nothing but a sick teenager who looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

  Vex and Lyra had to hook their arms under his shoulders to heave him up as he fainted . Ren just dangled between them, his head lolling forward, occasionally muttering about the rain and the cost of curry while they dragged him away from the crater.

  The Solar Cathedral: High Sanctuary

  Thousands of miles away, atop the highest peak of the Holy Capital, the Solar Cathedral pierced the clouds. Inside the Inner Sanctum, the air didn’t move, and it was thick.

  Five massive thrones of floating gold formed a semicircle. All five were occupied by a Sun God.

  Solariux, the Prime Sun, sat at the center. His skin was the color of molten brass. He slammed a fist onto the arm of his throne.

  “The resonance has shifted,” Solariux boomed, his voice echoing like a mountain collapsing. “There’s a probably we have to address, located in Glinting Reach. I have called this Conclave for one reason: this threat is no longer theoretical.”

  Kaelum, the God of the Zenith, leaned back, his silver-gold armor clinking. He was the Second Seat, known for his cold logic. “You summon us from our meditations for a disturbance in the outskirts, Solariux? Why the urgency? Don’t we usually let the generals handle trespassers.”

  Ignis, the Third Seat and Goddess of the Scorching Hearth, narrowed her eyes. She ruled over the Glinting Reach—the very empire where Ren now walked. “Yes, I would like to know as well. My borders are secure, and my temples are full. What could possibly require the our attention”

  “An urgent matter concerning the ‘God Killer,’” Solariux stated flatly.

  Boreas, the Fourth Seat, a god whose presence brought a chilling wind even into the hall of the sun, tilted his head. “God Killer? Hahaha and who is this so called God Killer you speak of that requires our attention.”

  Aethelgard, the Fifth Seat, didn’t even look up. He was draped in robes of woven light, idly playing with a pencil between his fingers. “Oh, yes… the one running around killing those Paladins you sent after him, Solariux.”

  Solariux’s jaw tightened. “I have confirmed his location. He is within the borders of the Glinting Reach. Specifically, the Quartz Veil.”

  Ignis stood up. “What? Who is this so-called ‘God Killer’ and what is he doing in my territory? If a mortal is defiling the crystal groves, I will personally turn him to ash.”

  “He is someone we must observe with caution,” Solariux cautioned.

  Kaelum scoffed. “Caution? How come? It’s not as if a single mortal has changed the tide of fate. They are fleeting, Solariux. Like mayflies.”

  “He is the reason Sonsetsu is dead,” Solariux revealed.

  The silence that followed was absolute. The temperature in the room dropped thirty degrees. Boreas, the Fourth God, gripped his throne. “Sonsetsu? The Captain of the imperial Guard? We were told by the messengers that he was wiped out by a Primal Beast—a tragedy of nature.”

  “I had them lie to you,” Solariux admitted, his golden eyes scanning their shocked faces. “If the information had leaked—if the common folk heard that a human had the power to take down one of my strongest Knights—who’s to say they wouldn’t start an uprising? Hope is a more dangerous infection than any plague.”

  “So?” Kaelum countered, his voice regaining its arrogance. “It’s not like we can’t handle them. They are only humans, after all. We are all Gods; they are the shadows we cast.”

  “Yes,” Solariux said, “but there is a possibility that there are others. If he is a catalyst, and dozens more like him emerge… even we would feel the sting of a thousand needles. We cannot afford damage to our divinity.”

  Boreas looked over at Aethelgard, who remained eerily calm. “Aethelgard, you seem remarkably relaxed. Don’t you have anything to say about a man who hunts gods?”

  Aethelgard finally put down his pencil in his had and looked up with a gaze of pure boredom. “I have nothing to fear. A human killing a human doesn’t scare me in the slightest. You disgust me, Solariux. Being scared of a mortal… calling him a ‘God Killer’ just because he broke one of your toys? He doesn’t hold a candle to my power.”

  Aethelgard stood up, his cloak of light shimmering. He turned his back on the Prime Sun. “Deal with this yourself, Boreas. Ignis. I have no time to waste on such trivialities. If he reaches my temple, I’ll kill him like I killed all the other that stepped in my way. Until then, do not bore me again.”

  “Wait!” Boreas called out as Aethelgard began to vanish into light. “Do you even know his name? The name of this ‘Human’?”

  Solariux shook his head. “No I do not.”

  Kaelum stood up as well, following Aethelgard’s lead. “I have to agree with the Fifth. This is beneath us.”

  Ignis flicked a finger, a spark of fire dancing on her nail. “Me too. Being afraid of a mortal sickens me. None of them have the power to take me down. If this Human is in my empire… let him come. I’ll show him the difference between a spark and a Sun.”

  One by one, the gods vanished, leaving Solariux alone in the darkening cathedral. He looked down at his own hand, noticing a slight tremor. He remembered the reports of the violet light—the void that ate the sun.

  “They are arrogant,” Solariux whispered to the empty room. “Even if this human is but nothing, ignoring is but a foolish mistake.”