Chapter 40 – Godless Thrones
The aurora wept above them.
Colors bled across the Arctic sky—green, violet, blue—twisting like the veins of a corpse. Below, six demons stood like sins carved from old stone, facing what the world had hidden.
And the world?
It was about to wish it had stayed hidden.
The first crack didn’t come from the ice. It came from Levi’s eyes—two pinpricks of violet.
The three attackers surrounding him staggered and fell. No sound. No movement. Just pressure—immense, silent, crushing.
Like gravity had changed its mind.
They collapsed, blades slipping, knees cracking.
One of them moved—stabbed his own arm, blood dripping like ink onto cursed ice. The spell shattered.
The others broke free.
They scattered. Triangle formation. Levi in the center.
He rose slowly.
Above them, the world darkened. Not from clouds.
From what was coming.
Ash moved like memory.
Daggers in hand, she rushed forward, no hesitation.
Her target: a man with a chained twin-bladed weapon. Something ancient, something cruel.
He swung down one of the blades on her.
Steel met steel.
One clash.
Ice cracked, she held.
Then the second blade struck—a vertical, precise, brutal cut. The ice cracked, then collapsed entirely.
Ash fell. She swam.
He dove and followed.
The ocean didn’t forgive mistakes—it punished them.
He rotated the chains like a whirlpool. The strike caught her off-guard and sent her crashing into coral, ribs broken.
And then came the blade.
He sliced her clean in two.
But her body,
It vanished. Vapor. Illusion.
The real Ash stood above, dry, untouched.
He gasped beneath the water.
And drowned in confusion.
She turned away.
But that was a mistake.
The ocean didn’t let go.
It returned.
A tornado of water surged, the man at its heart.
Alive.
Awake.
And enraged.
Belzeebub flew overhead, a smear of rot-colored glee under the aurora.
Below him, an otherworldly creature raised its five heads and roared.
Half dragon, half nightmare, crawling on a turtle’s frame large enough to cradle cities.
He laughed. Opened both palms.
Two vortexes appeared—black holes fed with gluttony itself.
Space folded. Ice disappeared.
The creature struggled but then held.
Belzeebub frowned.
Then smiled wider.
“I see… you’re that kind.”
He screamed.
And the sky split.
Millions—millions—of insect demons poured from a dark portal. Wings. Legs. Fangs. Screeching.
The beast gathered energy in its mouths.
Then released.
3 bursts and 2 beams.
Light erased swarms. Heat broke the sky.
The two beams hit Belzeebub directly.
He crossed his saber. Blocked. Cracked. Shredded wings.
He screamed again. Not in pain.
In joy.
Back beneath the collapsing sky, Levi scattered the ice like glass.
Shards floated—platforms turned to weapons.
The three enemies darted through them, impossibly agile.
Levi left. He rose higher.
Into the clouds.
Where thunder was waiting.
Where his shadow stretched and stretched.
And Leviathan’s silhouette devoured the sea.
A beast of the deep. Ancient. Mythic. A mouth wide enough to swallow nations. It loomed behind like judgment.
Mammon faced chaos in silk.
Two sisters. Two smiles. Traditional kimonos soaked in blood.
He tried to read their movements. Find a pattern.
There were none.
One stabbed him in the neck with a jeweled pin.
He pulled it out. Gold spilled blood.
Chains rose from his shadow. Two ginormous links of molten gold, slamming toward the sisters.
They danced upon it and then met.
One stabbed the other in the gut.
She screamed in agony.
So did Mammon.
His own chains hesitated. Writhed. Turned on him.
Greed twisted inward, trying to rebuild him—but faster came ruin.
He was consumed faster than he could regenerate.
He drove ice into his gut.
Pulled it free.
At the tip—
A black orb. Pulsing. Screaming.
It turned to gold. But it had a cost.
His right arm turned to gold. And froze.
He dropped to one knee.
The sisters approached. Unarmed. Mourning.
Belphegor stood in yawning silence.
“Did you figure it out already?” he asked the archer.
She answered with fire.
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He dodged—barely. Singed.
She ran, Belphegor looked on.
Arrows landed around him, not at him.
A perimeter.
A dome. The nocks pointed at him.
He sighed. “So it’s like that.”
It captured him with a force field. He fell under the force.
She drew an arrow.
But her hands wouldn’t obey. Her vision blurred.
Belphegor commanded the gravity, overwriting the force field.
The earth below crumbled with his every step.
He walked to her. She fell to her knees under the pressure.
Then she jabbed a syringe into her shoulder.
Time snapped.
One arrow. Right into his chest.
He flew backward. Glaciers shattered. Blood spilled.
“You just drugged yourself, didn’t you?” Belphegor said weakly.
She stood, eyes glowing.
Beyond human now.
Satan moved like an eclipse. No tricks. No spells.
Just blade. Dark and bloody.
The red-haired warrior before him wielded a blade of light. Perfection made flesh.
They clashed. Once. Twice. The field cracked with each blow.
The wind screamed for death.
The field wasn’t levelled, so they levelled it themselves.
It wasn’t a duel.
It was two gods pretending to be men.
High above, Levi floated, hands down.
His eyes pulsed. Power radiated.
And the ocean rose to meet him.
Behind him—it appeared.
The shadow of Leviathan, serpent god of the deep. Its mouth opened.
And the storm shrieked.
Belzeebub, burned and laughed, dove through the air.
His saber half-melted. His coat gone. He roared into the creature’s face. “FINALLY!”
Mammon crawled forward, golden arm dragging.
The sisters approached. Calm. Wordless.
They still weren’t attacking.
They still were mourning.
Ash, spun midair, stared down the tornado.
At its eye—
Chains.
Eyes.
And a man who should’ve drowned to death.
Lazaro stood again, blood in his mouth.
The archer waited.
No longer uncertain.
Only ready.
And in the heart of it all—
Satan lowered his blade.
“This was fun,” he said, smiling like a liar.
“Let’s begin for real.”
End of Chapter 40 – Godless Thrones
Chapter 40 – Godless Thrones
The aurora wept above them.
Colors bled across the Arctic sky—green, violet, blue—twisting like the veins of a corpse. Below, six demons stood like sins carved from old stone, facing what the world had hidden.
And the world?
It was about to wish it had stayed hidden.
The first crack didn’t come from the ice. It came from Levi’s eyes—two pinpricks of violet.
The three attackers surrounding him staggered and fell. No sound. No movement. Just pressure—immense, silent, crushing.
Like gravity had changed its mind.
They collapsed, blades slipping, knees cracking.
One of them moved—stabbed his own arm, blood dripping like ink onto cursed ice. The spell shattered.
The others broke free.
They scattered. Triangle formation. Levi in the center.
He rose slowly.
Above them, the world darkened. Not from clouds.
From what was coming.
Ash moved like memory.
Daggers in hand, she rushed forward, no hesitation.
Her target: a man with a chained twin-bladed weapon. Something ancient, something cruel.
He swung down one of the blades on her.
Steel met steel.
One clash.
Ice cracked, she held.
Then the second blade struck—a vertical, precise, brutal cut. The ice cracked, then collapsed entirely.
Ash fell. She swam.
He dove and followed.
The ocean didn’t forgive mistakes—it punished them.
He rotated the chains like a whirlpool. The strike caught her off-guard and sent her crashing into coral, ribs broken.
And then came the blade.
He sliced her clean in two.
But her body,
It vanished. Vapor. Illusion.
The real Ash stood above, dry, untouched.
He gasped beneath the water.
And drowned in confusion.
She turned away.
But that was a mistake.
The ocean didn’t let go.
It returned.
A tornado of water surged, the man at its heart.
Alive.
Awake.
And enraged.
Belzeebub flew overhead, a smear of rot-colored glee under the aurora.
Below him, an otherworldly creature raised its five heads and roared.
Half dragon, half nightmare, crawling on a turtle’s frame large enough to cradle cities.
He laughed. Opened both palms.
Two vortexes appeared—black holes fed with gluttony itself.
Space folded. Ice disappeared.
The creature struggled but then held.
Belzeebub frowned.
Then smiled wider.
“I see… you’re that kind.”
He screamed.
And the sky split.
Millions—millions—of insect demons poured from a dark portal. Wings. Legs. Fangs. Screeching.
The beast gathered energy in its mouths.
Then released.
3 bursts and 2 beams.
Light erased swarms. Heat broke the sky.
The two beams hit Belzeebub directly.
He crossed his saber. Blocked. Cracked. Shredded wings.
He screamed again. Not in pain.
In joy.
Back beneath the collapsing sky, Levi scattered the ice like glass.
Shards floated—platforms turned to weapons.
The three enemies darted through them, impossibly agile.
Levi left. He rose higher.
Into the clouds.
Where thunder was waiting.
Where his shadow stretched and stretched.
And Leviathan’s silhouette devoured the sea.
A beast of the deep. Ancient. Mythic. A mouth wide enough to swallow nations. It loomed behind like judgment.
Mammon faced chaos in silk.
Two sisters. Two smiles. Traditional kimonos soaked in blood.
He tried to read their movements. Find a pattern.
There were none.
One stabbed him in the neck with a jeweled pin.
He pulled it out. Gold spilled blood.
Chains rose from his shadow. Two ginormous links of molten gold, slamming toward the sisters.
They danced upon it and then met.
One stabbed the other in the gut.
She screamed in agony.
So did Mammon.
His own chains hesitated. Writhed. Turned on him.
Greed twisted inward, trying to rebuild him—but faster came ruin.
He was consumed faster than he could regenerate.
He drove ice into his gut.
Pulled it free.
At the tip—
A black orb. Pulsing. Screaming.
It turned to gold. But it had a cost.
His right arm turned to gold. And froze.
He dropped to one knee.
The sisters approached. Unarmed. Mourning.
Belphegor stood in yawning silence.
“Did you figure it out already?” he asked the archer.
She answered with fire.
He dodged—barely. Singed.
She ran, Belphegor looked on.
Arrows landed around him, not at him.
A perimeter.
A dome. The nocks pointed at him.
He sighed. “So it’s like that.”
It captured him with a force field. He fell under the force.
She drew an arrow.
But her hands wouldn’t obey. Her vision blurred.
Belphegor commanded the gravity, overwriting the force field.
The earth below crumbled with his every step.
He walked to her. She fell to her knees under the pressure.
Then she jabbed a syringe into her shoulder.
Time snapped.
One arrow. Right into his chest.
He flew backward. Glaciers shattered. Blood spilled.
“You just drugged yourself, didn’t you?” Belphegor said weakly.
She stood, eyes glowing.
Beyond human now.
Satan moved like an eclipse. No tricks. No spells.
Just blade. Dark and bloody.
The red-haired warrior before him wielded a blade of light. Perfection made flesh.
They clashed. Once. Twice. The field cracked with each blow.
The wind screamed for death.
The field wasn’t levelled, so they levelled it themselves.
It wasn’t a duel.
It was two gods pretending to be men.
High above, Levi floated, hands down.
His eyes pulsed. Power radiated.
And the ocean rose to meet him.
Behind him—it appeared.
The shadow of Leviathan, serpent god of the deep. Its mouth opened.
And the storm shrieked.
Belzeebub, burned and laughed, dove through the air.
His saber half-melted. His coat gone. He roared into the creature’s face. “FINALLY!”
Mammon crawled forward, golden arm dragging.
The sisters approached. Calm. Wordless.
They still weren’t attacking.
They still were mourning.
Ash, spun midair, stared down the tornado.
At its eye—
Chains.
Eyes.
And a man who should’ve drowned to death.
Lazaro stood again, blood in his mouth.
The archer waited.
No longer uncertain.
Only ready.
And in the heart of it all—
Satan lowered his blade.
“This was fun,” he said, smiling like a liar.
“Let’s begin for real.”
End of Chapter 40 – Godless Thrones
