Erus clenched his fists against the rocky floor as he vomited blood. He could no longer think straight. His mind was flooded with dark memories from his childhood. He saw how his mother had struggled to survive while the King relentlessly hunted them.
He remembered how heartless the King looked every time he ordered an assassination for him and his mother. There was never even a hint of guilt.
Erus' heart ached as if a thousand needles were puncturing it.
Why was he seeing these things now? Was this part of the mermaid's magic, or were these true memories of his past? If these were real, then he had been a fool. He should have listened to his mother's warnings.
"Mom..." he whispered.
He realized he had been a stubborn child just because he was slightly more powerful than others. He had chosen to chase after his father, desperate for recognition. He once thought his mother was being selfish, trying to keep him hidden away forever. It turned out he was the one who was selfish. All his mother's efforts to save him were now in vain.
A single tear fell from his eye. As it hit the cold floor, it splashed into his blood, forming a small, dark symbol. The sight triggered a grim thought.
If he died right now, what would happen to his mother? Would the King still hunt her? Who would protect her if he was gone?
No! He screamed in his mind. There was no way he was losing to a single pet.
There was still a way out.
From his hard-clenched fist, he slowly opened his left hand. He tried his best to focus all his energy on the blood pooling before him. His fingers trembled as he began to trace a pattern on the cold, jagged floor—a mark known only to a few, mostly witches. He had seen this in his mother's forbidden book years ago, a memory he had tried to bury but was now his only lifeline.
He dragged his bloody finger across the stone, ignoring the sting as the jagged edges cut deeper into his skin. He drew two triangles that touched at the tips, forming a shape like a tilted hourglass. As he finished the last line, the blood didn't just sit on the rock. It started to thrum, vibrating against the floor. The air around the symbol turned heavy and cold, sucking the light out of the room. It looked like a drain, ready to pull his life through that single point where the triangles met. He didn't know the name of this mark, but he knew what it did. It was a beacon for something much darker than a mermaid.
Erus pressed his bloody palm firmly over the center of the mark, the cold stone biting into his skin. He didn't care about the pain anymore. He didn't care about the King. He only cared about the woman who had tried to hide him from this very fate and he was determined to survive—if only for one last time.
"I am Erusiel Nikolas Athanasios," he ground out, his voice rasping through the dryness in his throat. He looked straight into the swirling dark mist rising from the sigil, his crimson eyes flashing with a final, bitter resolve.
"I offer my heart and soul to you, Hadesseu. Take my life. Take my name. Take everything I am. In exchange, give me the strength to stand. Keep me alive through this hell. Make me the weapon that ends them all. My soul is the price—come and claim it."
The Queen of the Mermaids did not expect Erus' bold move. She suddenly stopped attacking him and chose to wait and see if the God of Death would answer. Even though she wanted to protest and stop him, there was no way to escape the wrath of her true King, the God of Death.
But how strong was Erus' resolve? Was it enough to be answered by a higher deity?
Then, the atmosphere suddenly became heavy. The aura of the abyss grew more intense, filled with all the negativity the world could hold. The air became so suffocating that even Erus' hellfire was extinguished.
Ten tall vortices of dark mist rose from the floor, each standing twice the height of a man. They didn't move violently, instead, they drifted slowly and silently around the abyss like ghostly pillars.
The Queen of the Mermaids was in awe at the sight. This kind of power was very familiar to her—it belonged to the God of Death, and he was answering Erus' call. She couldn't believe her eyes. How could a mere mortal make their King respond? Even King Leomar, her master by contract, had never received the God of Death's permission to own relics from the Abyss.
Erus felt the changes in his environment. The intensity and heaviness only added to the pressure of his situation. He was not sure if the God of Death was answering his call or if the deity was annoyed and about to kill him.
Suddenly, the commotion, the intensity, and the vortices were gone. It was as if they had been erased.
Nothing.
There was no noise and no wind. The place looked the same but the environment felt like a total void.
Then Erus saw a foot step onto his ritual circle. The skin was a luminous porcelain. It was so pale and flawless that it seemed to cast a soft light against the black stone. It did not look like the foot of a man. A moment later, the other foot stepped down beside it.
Erus could not believe his eyes as his blood turned into a small golden pedestal for those feet to stand on. The hem of a silky white dress draped smoothly onto the gold and then the rocky stone.
The God of Death is a woman? How could—
Erus' mind went blank when he felt a sudden chill of comfort. A gentle and warm touch pressed against his forehead. It was not a touch from a hand or a finger.
It was a kiss.
"I forbid it." Her soft voice echoed in his head as if he were dreaming. He did not even realize what she had just said.
Her slender, cold fingers ran over the skin of his neck. She caressed his chin, tilting his face up to make him look at her. Their eyes met, and Erus knew she was no stranger to him. He realized he was crying from the sudden surge of emotion he felt as she wiped his tears away. He did not understand the feeling, but there was a deep sense of longing.
She was definitely the owner of the golden scepter—the woman he had wanted so badly to see again. But he never expected her to be a deity.
Her eyes were a shifting expanse of midnight and violet, filled with the swirling dust of a thousand crushed galaxies. He felt himself melt just by staring into them. And her lips were like the buds of a rose—delicate and soft and their red color was so pure it put the finest rubies to shame. She was a vision of absolute perfection, a masterpiece that shouldn't exist in a place as filthy as the abyss.
Her gaze moved across his face, scanning every detail with a look that was both frantic and full of admiration. Then, her eyes pulsated when they landed on his shoulder. A deadly glare crossed her face, and her eyes turned a cosmic gold, ready to bestow punishment.
The Mermaid Queen, watching from a distance, widened her eyes at the sight. She could no longer understand how a deity higher than the God of Death was now casually holding Erus as if they were something more..
"Who dared desecrate you?" It was not a question, because her eyes were already locked on the Queen of the mermaids.
"I—"
The Queen of the mermaids could not even make a sound. The Goddess's eyes twitched slightly—then POOF! The monsters were not spared they were deleted from the entire Abyss where the mermaids of death once ruled.
Erus felt that magnificent yet disruptive power that lasted only a second. He was not included among those who vanished without a trace.
She was clearly not the God of Death. Her power was way beyond that.
Who is she? He wanted to ask, but he had no energy to speak. He was too overwhelmed by her beauty alone.
"I am fatal to those who dare snatch you. So, never do it again," she whispered. Her voice was terrifyingly calm while her rosebud lips were brushing against the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold of the abyss.
He swallowed hard.
Erus stayed silent, his heart hammering against his ribs. He realized she was referring to the ritual contract he was about to sign with the God of Death. Out of reflex, he nodded.
Was he bound to this beautiful deity? But how did it happen? He didn't remember performing any ritual during his childhood. Plus, the woman he was with right now was no ordinary deity. Could she be stronger than the God of Death?
"How do you feel now?" she asked him.
Erus didn't notice exactly what she had done, but he felt light, as if he had been refreshed to his original state.
"That was amazing!" was his pure reaction.
"Your shield has a healing ability. Make good use of it next time, silly," she said, smiling at him before she stood up. She even offered him a hand to help him stand. "We are leaving this gross place."
Erus was starting to feel separation anxiety while looking down at her since she only reached his chin.
"Are you the owner of the shield? Were you the one who always protected me? And if we get out of here, will I see you again?"
She looked at him. "That was too long for a 'thank you'."
That brought Erus' soul back to his body. He bowed before her. "Forgive my insolence. You felt very familiar, and I forgot my status, Your Holi—"
THWACK!
He stopped when she flicked his forehead. Even though it was light, his heart jumped. He thought his life was over.
"Lady is enough. Holy? It doesn't suit me." She grinned a little. Should a demure deity do such a thing? "And to answer your questions, the shield was a gift from me, so you own it. It protects you based on how you wield its power. Not me."
Erus waited for more. His focus was on the answer to his last question.
She looked up. There was no sky, only a foggy atmosphere.
"The time is nigh. We have to leave," she said.
Without a word from her, Erus felt a force encircle them and lift them quickly. They were flying at high speed but then stopped midway.
Looking down, far below the abyss where they had come from, Erus saw a massive dark castle with a unique design. It looked like a castle cut in half, with debris falling from the center. The other half was missing. There was only a pile of ashes on the ground where the rest of the building should have stood.
Then, he saw her extending her hand toward the castle. A shiny object came flying their way in seconds. When it touched her hand, Erus recognized it as the scepter.
What was the scepter doing there? His question remained unanswered.
The force moved them again at high speed, going higher and higher. When he tried looking down, the Abyss was just a tiny dot to his enhanced sight.
Was he literally thrown into the depths of the world? Even if he had defeated the Queen of the Mermaids, he realized he would have still died there. Without the deity, there was no way out to save himself.
Erus completely forgot about his golden dragon mask, which had been irremovable ever since he put it on. The realization that the deity could freely touch his face and even kiss and flick his forehead through the metal, had not hit him yet.