Strife of the Gods

Losing The Other Half

"I thought Agrona wanted to recruit me, not kill me." I asked, trying to stall for time.

'Zeke, go to Arthur, tell him to rush here.' I couldn't take a full-blooded asura on.

[Don't, he needs all the help he can get. Arthur will arrive sooner or later, an Asuras Mana Signature is hard to miss.]

'I never expected to say this, but I agree with him.'

"You have made your opinion of joining us pretty clear when you killed Maelvon."

I couldn't exactly deny that.

"You're a full-blooded Vritra aren't you? Whatever happened to the non-interference pact." I questioned, trying to amass enough Nacht to Void Step far away.

"That pact was broken when the Asuras tried and failed to assassinate The High Sovereign," he answered calmly.

He raised his arm, clad in a smoky black flame, "This is nothing personal, boy."

"Woah!" I raised my arms, "At least tell me your name before you do that!"

He raised an eyebrow, "Very well, I suppose you have the right to know the name of your executioner. I am Kiros Vritra, my titles are irrelevant." A gout of wispy black flames shot out of his palm, approaching me rapidly.

Eyes as wide as saucers, I Void Stepped behind him, intending to slash him across his back. Shroud had changed since last time. In simple words, it looked like someone split Solaris and Shroud down the middle, and glued their halves together.

He was waiting for me, and grabbed my sword with no issue. He tightened his grip, and Shroud grew concerningly lighter.

He uncurled his fists, a shower of glittering dust falling to the ground as I stared at the ruined sword in disbelief.

[MOVE!]

I instinctively Void Stepped, not daring to exit the dimension. The fire had melted through the castle effortlessly, I could not hope to survive that.

A rip formed in the space itself, and Kiros stared from the other side, "You cannot hide, It's best you accept your death."

Shit!

I entered Canine Divinity, hurling a purple bubble his way, the spell I had used to destroy Zegrath's weapon. I dub this, Chronic Incarceration.

He moved, clearly acknowledging the danger it posed, and that gave me enough time to slip away.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

All the white core mages combined couldn't beat him, much less just me alone.

'Noctis! Erebus! Anyo-'

"Don't bother calling for help, they will not hear you." He walked towards me, leisurely, "I have said it before, and I shall say it again. Resistance is futile, this is where you die. You cannot change that."

No matter what spell I used, he was unfazed. Even when I used Omnes Finis, it was as if his very skin was made of titanium.

In a desperate attempt, I threw a nacht sword at him. He dodged it.

[Wait, why would he dodge when nothing affects him?]

'Are you saying nacht affects him?'

It's possible, I transmitted materializing hundreds of nacht weapons behind me, Nacht is partly made out of Aether after all.

He narrowed his eyes, alarmed by the number of constructs. I could sense the mana gravitating towards him.

It was obvious that he was preparing a spell, and I couldn't allow that. I hurled the constructs at him, hoping it would be enough to disrupt the spell.