Omniphage of Apathy

"You… You were supposed to be out helping the Xypelians! The war... how are you here?"

Lysameria's lips curled into a small smile.

"Did you think I would let my son die alone, Stephos? Especially after you came for him?"

Her presence was a force of nature in and of itself, suffocating any lingering arrogance the god of flames might have had. Stephos scoffed, his molten flames flickering with rage.

"This is impossible… I thought you were too busy for this. This isn't what I expected!" He took a step back, eyes darting between Lysameria and Vastarael, who had finally relaxed, now leaning slightly against the debris with a faint smile playing at his lips.

"Good luck buddy."

Lysameria's smile widened as she glanced at her son before she turned back to Stephos.

"I ran here, Stephos. I knew you'd make a move the moment I sensed you. But as for your precious barrier… It's gone now. Too bad. I wanted to shatter it to prove my strength to my son but no matter."

With a fluid motion, Lysameria raised her hand and in the blink of an eye, a long sword materialized in her grasp. It was a long odachi, though its blade was a shimmering teal that gleamed with an ethereal light. The handle was adorned with patterns resembling waves and the aura surrounding it hummed with power that rivaled the very ocean itself. The weapon hummed with an unnatural resonance, as if it were alive.

"You think you can fight me with that? You think one sword is enough to—"

Before he could finish, Lysameria raised the blade.

"I don't need it to kill you. I'm flaunting my power in front of my son."

Stephos's expression twisted in fury and with a snarl, he thrust his hand forward, sending an enormous wave of fiery energy hurtling toward her. Flames twisted and morphed in the air, taking the shape of monstrous serpents that hissed with wrath.

But Lysameria didn't flinch. She was a perfect embodiment of the sea itself. Without moving, she simply raised her sword. The blade shimmered once and then the water in the air began to gather, forming into a shield of water that effortlessly absorbed the firestorm, quenching it before it even reached her.

The fire was enough to actually destroy an entire city or two. His fire wasn't weak.

Lysameria was just too strong.

Stephos's eyes widened in shock. "What… how?"

Lysameria lowered the sword, watching him carefully.

'You're far too predictable, Stephos."

She dashed forward with unimaginable speed, her sword cutting through the air like a blade through water. The ground beneath her feet cracked and splintered as if the very land bent to her will. She struck, the teal blade flashing with each movement.

Stephos tried to react but his flames were too slow. Lysameria's sword cut through them effortlessly, dissolving them into vapor before they could even strike her. The god's fiery aura flickered and sputtered as he staggered back, sweat beading on his forehead.

"You were out of practice," Lysameria taunted softly, her blade already dancing in the air, tracing elegant, lethal arcs. She didn't even appear to be trying hard.

The god of flames hissed in frustration, his molten eyes burning with rage.

"You're a monster!"

"I'm your worst nightmare," Lysameria responded coldly, her tone never losing its ice-like edge.

She swung the sword in a wide arc, sending a blast of water toward Stephos that exploded on contact with the ground, sending him hurtling backward.

He barely managed to regain his footing before she was upon him again, her sword flashing in the light as she aimed a slash at his chest.

This time, there was no escape.

The sword cut cleanly through Stephos's defense, leaving a deep gash across his chest that sizzled and bubbled with the heat of his own flames. He staggered back, blood dripping from the wound, his flames flickering erratically.

Stephos gritted his teeth, blood dripping from his lip, but he didn't relent. With a snarl, he conjured one last burst of flame, trying to push her back, but Lysameria was too quick. She effortlessly dodged the attack.

O

Her blade met his chest once more, this time driving deep. The air around them seemed to shimmer with the force of it, the flames sizzling against her power, but it was clear that Stephos had lost.

He dropped to his knees, gasping, his body battered and singed.

Lysameria stood over him, her sword pointed at his throat. Stephos looked up at her, his chest heaving, but the fire in his eyes had dimmed. He had no more tricks left. No more power.

"Any last words?"

Stephos grinned, "You think I'm the strongest god who came for your Dynasty? The most powerful ones are at the palace. They won't be able to win against them."

Lysameria smirked. The smile was so beautiful that the god was speechless for a moment.

"You underestimate my sisters, flame god. Now then, how should I kill you? Slice your piece by piece? Chop off your head? No, that will be too merciful. Oh, I know!"

Lysameria's hand shot forward and with terrifying precision, she drove her fist deep into Stephos's chest. The god of flames screamed in a raw, anguished cry that echoed through the devastated city. His molten skin began to turn cold under her touch. His golden blood bubbled up from the wound, sizzling as it met the air. Stephos struggled but his strength waned with every passing second. His fiery essence was slowly drained away, leaving his body flickering as the warmth left him.

She twisted her hand, slowly and deliberately. With a final, powerful pull, Lysameria extracted the orange core from Stephos's chest—a glowing, pulsing orb of fiery energy that had once been the source of his power.

He gasped, his body trembling as he felt his life force slipping away. His golden eyes began to dim, becoming hollow and distant.

Stephos's body convulsed as he tried to cling to life but it was futile. In a moment of desperation, he gasped one last time, his breath catching in his throat. But it was too late.

His form began to disintegrate, crumbling into ashes as his soul was extinguished. The golden blood that had once flowed like molten lava was now just a faint memory, evaporating into nothingness as he turned to dust at Lysameria's feet.

"Another god, burnt to nothing but ash," she murmured, a glint of dark amusement flashing across her face. She turned her gaze to Vastarael, her son, who had watched the entire battle. His expression was unreadable, but the exhaustion and strain on his face were unmistakable.

"Seriously, I didn't expect you to be in so much danger... absorb this."

She gave him the orange core with a sigh.

"It will make you stronger than before. A god's core is very powerful—"

Before she could finish, Vastarael turned toward Adelasta, who had been standing at a distance, watching the exchange. Her eyes widened as she looked between the core in his hands and Lysameria's casual demeanor. Her voice was thick with confusion and doubt.

"Wait... you're giving me that? Why?" Adelasta asked, her tone uncharacteristically vulnerable. She couldn't quite grasp what was happening or why he would offer such a powerful gift to her.

Vastarael, still weary from the intense battle, sighed softly and turned his head toward her.

"Because you're the only girl born in the direct bloodline of the Viaca Family," he began. "You don't have power like the others. So, you focused on weapon mastery to overcome that. But now… you'll be stronger."

Adelasta blinked. She could hardly believe what he was saying. She had always trained to compensate for her lack of innate power.

She had worked harder, learned faster, fought longer, always feeling like the one left behind in comparison to the others who wielded divine abilities effortlessly.

Vastarael continued, his voice taking on a softer edge, "With this, you'll gain the ability to summon flames. And your strength will increase, even beyond what you thought possible."

Her heart raced, confusion giving way to disbelief. Why was he doing this? She knew the core was valuable, more valuable than anything she had ever touched in her life. But why would he give it to her?

"But… why?" she asked, voice almost a whisper as her gaze locked with his. "Why would you do this for me?"

Vastarael's lips curled into a slight, almost imperceptible smile, despite the weariness that lined his face. The world felt like it was closing in on him, his body screaming for rest, but he held on to the moment for just a little longer.

"Because you're my Betrothed, after all."

He looked at her with a smile that caused Adelasta to freeze, her mind struggling to catch up with the simple, yet monumental declaration. She opened her mouth to respond, to ask for clarification, but before the words could form, Vastarael's legs buckled beneath him.

His mother held him before he fell down. His golden eyes flickered once, then closed as his body gave in to the desperate need for rest.

Adelasta stood frozen for a moment, the core still in her hands, her heart racing as she watched him. There were so many emotions swirling inside her—confusion, fear... something else she couldn't name.

"Vastarael…" she whispered, finally moving to his side, kneeling beside him.

The reality of the situation set in. He was beyond exhausted and she had no choice but to tend to him, just as he had tended to her. She placed a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him.

"You... you can't just fall asleep like this…"

But the silence that followed was unbroken, save for his slow, steady breathing as he drifted into a deep slumber, unaware of the world around him, at peace for the first time in a long while.

Adelasta's hands shook slightly as she held the core. She didn't know what to do with it, what it meant or how to process what had just happened between them.