At the lamp of blood,
Avkasham took a heavy step toward Griscer, his voice dripping with absolute contempt: *"The bastard of nihilism against the man who saw both hell and heaven..."*
The moment his foot touched the ground, the deep red landscape drained of all color, bleached into a pale, stark white. The surrounding flesh lost its vitality, turning into nothing more than limp, tangible matter. The sprouted hands continued to breathe within their own isolated realm, but under Avkasham's spell, they became mere ghosts drifting through a world of pure negative space.
Griscer glanced around as the crimson domain faded. Through the monochrome haze, Kronos' blades surged silently toward his heart. Without a moment's hesitation, Griscer drew his fiery bow, locking a dark arrow on the string and launching it directly at Kronos.
At point-blank range, the dark flames tore toward Kronos' chest. The blade *Svar* instantly snapped into place to intercept the blow. As the dark fire flared against steel, *Bhu*—alongside the remaining five blades—moved at blinding speed, drawing the intense heat of nihilism directly into their frozen metal. The resulting shockwave slammed into Kronos, hurling him backward through the air.
Griscer, knowing the impact would only buy him a fraction of a second, relied on his superior agility. He immediately pulled the bowstring a second time, quickly forming a smaller, weaker arrow to finish the strike at Kronos.
However, he was interrupted by another arrow of red flames hitting his chest, giving him a heavy knockback. His own arrow missed its mark, landing beside Kronos—slightly grazing his face—before descending into the negative world and dissolving. It was Arush, recovering from his wounds, using a power he never thought he would unleash.
Kronos' breaths were heavy, but they had not stopped. He moved even faster this time, pushing himself forward while grunting through the pain. He could feel his ankles shattered to pieces, his forearms punctured, and his chest armor splintered. Yet he held onto a fierce conviction—weaponizing not his blades, but his words.
"WHAT WERE HER LAST WORDS?!" Kronos screamed at Griscer, a deadly serious expression on his face as his mask fell away.
Closing the distance, Kronos punched Griscer square in the face. But as he raised his second hand to strike, Griscer's multiple hands swarmed out, pinning Kronos and hugging him tight against Griscer's own raw flesh.
Kronos' armor rattled, dripping with bleached, colorless blood as Griscer answered his repeated plea: *"'Keep him away... revenge is worthless... I still love my baby Kronos.'"*
Griscer's words slurred out like a charcoal scribble staining paper, yet they delivered their answer. Kronos went deathly still, his soul leaving his body as his form fell silent, and Griscer's flesh began to devour him into his body.
From behind, someone seized Kronos' hand, violently pulling him backward out of the flesh-trap before biting down directly into Griscer's neck and piercing his chest with blades of pure flame.
It was Arush. He bit into Griscer through the bloodied jaws of his lion mask. Griscer thrashed madly, trying to free himself from the grip and abandoning Kronos entirely.
Arush drove his mask's fiery teeth deeper, his flames raging violently while leaving his flaming blades embedded in the god's chest. Withdrawing his bite, Arush delivered a brutal kick to Griscer's stomach, creating a gap as he broke away.
Griscer clutched his bleeding neck, waiting until his flesh regenerated before taking flight. Flapping his wings forged of severed hands, he rose into the air, leaving Arush and Kronos down below.
Walking upon the sky, his voice echoed down into the lamp of blood drained by the negative world:
**"I will return to hunt you down... believers."**