That One Time I Married A Crazy Goddess

The sanctuary was a crucible of annihilation, its holy walls shattered into molten ruin, its air choked with heat and blood. Xyenn's body burned like a second sun in the center of the devastation, his chest heaving, his claws dripping with molten blood from Salazar's torn flesh. His head, now a blazing sphere of pure solar fire, cast rays of golden light that burned everything it touched, its radiance so intense it warped the edges of reality itself. Across from him, Salazar had become a nightmare given form—his body a grotesque armor of obsidian-black muscle, oozing molten streaks of glowing red. His arms had transformed into jagged, scythe-like blades, their edges glowing white-hot with the friction of his sheer speed. His legs, now monstrously elongated birdlike talons, dug deep into the fractured ground with every step, leaving behind glowing craters. His face had dissolved entirely, replaced by an eyeless maw that gaped with endless blackness, a vortex of despair and raw malice. Every breath he exhaled came with a sound like a thousand tortured screams, and the sheer force of his presence caused the air around him to ripple with destructive energy.

Each time Xyenn fought, he let out a loud battle cry, his tonsils screeching with a lion-like roar into the heavens, a roar that physically shook the ground.

"RAGGHHHHHH!" He roared, launching an explosive attack, colliding into Salazar.

Gorran stood on the fringes of the battlefield, clutching Xenith tightly, his crimson eyes wide with disbelief. He had fought alongside Xyenn countless times, but now, he couldn't recognize Xyenn at all. The sheer power radiating from Xyenn made the air itself burn, and every movement Xyenn made seemed to tear apart the sanctuary even further. Gorran could barely keep his footing as the ground beneath him buckled and cracked under the pressure of the clash. He tried to follow the fight, but it was impossible. It wasn't just fast—it was destructive chaos, each collision between Xyenn and Salazar erupting into bursts of light and sound so violent they left him briefly deafened, blinded, and staggering.

"RAGGHHH! I won't lose!!" Xyenn screamed from the destruction and chaos.

Without warning, Xyenn launched forward, his entire body a streak of golden fury. The stone beneath his feet didn't crack—it detonated, sending chunks of molten rock flying in every direction. He crossed the distance between himself and Salazar in less than an instant, his claws striking Salazar's chest with cataclysmic force. The impact was like a supernova, golden flames detonating outward in a shockwave that carved a fiery trench through the sanctuary floor, splitting it open like the earth itself was screaming. Salazar staggered, chunks of his obsidian flesh flying off in molten arcs, but he didn't falter. With a deafening roar, his left blade-arm swung upward, a horizontal slash so fast it ignited the air itself, creating a concussive sonic boom that knocked Gorran off his feet. Xyenn twisted his body to avoid the strike, the burning light of his head flaring brighter as the blade passed within inches of his side. For the first time, it became clear that Xyenn wasn't dodging to evade pain; he was protecting his left arm, which hung awkwardly at his side, trembling. Any hit to it would destroy him, and Salazar seemed to sense this weakness.

Gorran shocked, had seeing that scenario, saying to himself, "He's still keeping his arm from being damaged…? He's halfway in and out of his right mind, how can a brat like that fight a literal god's power and a being made from darkness at the same time? Both whom are stronger than Xyenn himself? Both whom are dozens upon dozens of years older than him? It has to be Yuuna's power.."

Salazar pressed the assault, his scythe-arms moving with impossible precision. He brought the right blade down in a vertical chop, aiming to split Xyenn in half. Xyenn caught the blade mid-swing, his claws digging deep into the molten-hot edge. Steam hissed from the contact, and the ground beneath them caved in as the sheer force of their collision compressed the stone. Xyenn's head flared again, light exploding outward in blinding waves. 

"RAGGHHHHHH! AGHHHH!" Xyenn roared angrily.

The heat melted what was left of the sanctuary's walls into dripping slag, but Salazar didn't relent. He jerked his captured blade downward, slamming Xyenn back-first into the ground with enough force to send a geyser of molten stone into the air. Before Xyenn could rise, Salazar's second scythe-blade came down like a guillotine, aimed straight for Xyenn's neck.

The light around Xyenn erupted violently, his solar flames bursting outward in a reactive explosion as he rolled to the side. The blade missed his neck by a hair but carved deep into his shoulder instead, sending a fountain of blood spraying across the ground. Xyenn howled in pain, his voice reverberating like the cracking of the sun itself, but he used the momentum to twist his body and strike. His claws, now wreathed in concentrated sunlight energy, slashed upward into Salazar's exposed core. The strike connected, and the resulting explosion was so massive that it blew what remained of the sanctuary's roof clean off, sending molten debris raining down in every direction. Gorran dove for cover, rolling behind what little remained of a toppled pillar as chunks of burning stone slammed into the ground around him.

"Tch!"

'The both of them are moving at insane speeds…I might get taken down if I stay here! But I can't run off like a coward…and let Xyenn take all of the credit. That's not who I am. I don't ever ruin either. Ever.'

From Gorran's perspective, the fight was incomprehensible. Every second was another explosion, another shockwave, another eruption of light so bright it seared his eyes even through the thick smoke. He could barely make out Xyenn and Salazar's figures, their movements tearing through the battlefield at speeds that seemed to break the laws of reality itself. One moment, Xyenn was on the ground, bloodied and staggering, and the next, he was in the air, bringing down a flaming claw that split the sanctuary floor in two. Salazar responded with the same ferocity, his scythe-arms carving through the air with such force that every miss sent arcs of molten energy gouging deep into the earth. The sanctuary, once a place of peace, was now a molten wasteland of destruction. 

High above, the old prophet floated in the air, his body convulsing violently. Blood poured from his eyes, his mouth, his ears, but he didn't stop screaming. His voice was manic, broken, yet it carried an eerie resonance that echoed over the battlefield. "Fate has changed!" he howled, his body shaking as though caught in an invisible storm. "The thread is burning! The sun devours the thread! FATE HAS CHANGED!" His cries mingled with the thunderous sounds of battle below, a chaotic symphony of destruction and madness.

Alongside the sound of a bell, ringing through the sky.

Salazar, now desperate, lunged at Xyenn with everything he had. His scythe-arms came down in a whirlwind of slashes, each strike fast enough to ignite the air, each hit carving massive gouges into the ground as Xyenn dodged and countered. The two collided again and again, their blows sending shockwaves that obliterated everything around them. Xyenn's claws burned brighter with each strike, the golden light of his solar energy growing more intense, more volatile. He struck Salazar's core again, and this time, the explosion sent both combatants flying in opposite directions. Xyenn slammed into the sanctuary's far wall, his body cratering the stone, while Salazar crashed into the ground, carving a molten trench as his body skidded to a halt.

Xyenn rose first, his body trembling, his blood dripping onto the molten stone beneath him. His red eyes locked onto Salazar, who was still struggling to rise. Xyenn didn't wait. He roared, his solar flames surging around him as he charged forward one last time. The ground beneath his feet exploded with every step, the fiery light from his head blinding as he closed the distance. Before Salazar could react, Xyenn grabbed him by the arms, his claws sinking deep into the molten flesh. Salazar screamed, a horrific, guttural sound, but Xyenn didn't stop. With a final, primal roar, Xyenn tore Salazar apart, ripping his body in half with his bare hands. 

Golden flames erupted from Xyenn's head, shooting outward in massive beams that seared the ground and walls around him. Gorran dove to the side just in time, narrowly avoiding the beams as they carved burning trenches through the battlefield. Salazar's shattered body began to dissolve, his molten flesh evaporating into glowing particles that floated upward, drawn toward the sun. Xyenn stood motionless, his body trembling, his solar flames flickering as the last remnants of Salazar disappeared into the light. The prophet's voice, now faint and broken, whispered one last time: "Fate has changed…" And then, silence.

Xyenn stood there, breathing heavily, panting fast as he stood still. But as soon as he heard the slightest movement from Gorran, Xyenn turned around to him slowly….

The sky was electric with tension, charged with a tension that seemed to come alive with each step Parcy took. Her masked face was unreadable, but her movements were fluid, confident, and deliberate. The ground beneath her feet darkened with every stride, the very earth twisting and mutating into grotesque, unnatural forms in her wake—blades of grass blackened into serrated shards, cobblestones shifted into jagged teeth that gnashed and cracked, and puddles of water morphed into shimmering pools of liquid shadow that rippled unnaturally. But Yuuna was relentless. She was close behind, her wings propelling her forward with bursts of power, her claws dripping with heat as flames licked along her fingertips. 

Yuuna said, "You can't run from me, you know that, right?! Please tell me the name of the Monarch you talked to?!"

Parcy replied, "I can't..I can't! I can't let you ruin everything I worked for! I don't care if you are a dragon goddess! If I help you…then I'd be better off throwing myself off a cliff head first! Please leave me alone!"

Parcy raised a single hand, and the ruins around her responded. The crooked remains of a once-grand cathedral groaned and creaked, its shattered spire twisting unnaturally as it collapsed toward Yuuna like the hand of some ancient, forgotten god. The massive structure fell with violent speed, stone and steel screaming through the air as gravity sought to crush Yuuna beneath it. Without breaking stride, Yuuna tilted her wings sharply, diving low and skimming along the broken ground with impossibly precise agility. The spire crashed behind her, a deafening explosion of rubble and dust filling the air, but she didn't falter. With a flick of her claws, she ignited the air around her, the dust and stone particles combusting in a brilliant flash of fire that cleared her path instantly. 

Parcy didn't look back. 

'Please…you'll ruin everything..! I just want them back…'

Her hands moved in intricate gestures, and the landscape answered her commands. From the cracks in the earth, jagged shards of black glass erupted in perfect synchronization, like rows of teeth snapping shut. They formed a corridor of death around Yuuna, rising and falling in a deadly rhythm designed to trap her. Yuuna's eyes narrowed as she darted forward, her wings folding tight against her back to give her the narrowest profile possible. She weaved through the gauntlet of glass, her body a blur of motion as the shards sliced through the air just inches from her. One of them scraped against her shoulder, drawing blood, but she didn't slow and it didn't bother her. Instead, she twisted mid-flight, her claws slashing out in a wide arc. The air around her ignited, and the wave of fire blasted through the corridor, melting the black glass into harmless pools of molten liquid that hissed as they cooled. 

"Haelga wanted to let you know she—."

"I don't wanna know what the old witch said! She's dead and gone now! Just like I always wanted!" Parcy exclaimed.

Parcy's voice then echoed faintly, a low, melodic chant that seemed to seep into the very bones of the world. The ruins around them began to shift, the broken remnants of buildings reshaping themselves into towering monoliths of shadow. The structures leaned and bent with an unnatural grace, their forms shifting like liquid as they blocked out the dim, dying light of the corrupted sun. The world seemed to close in around Yuuna, the darkness thickening into an oppressive force that made even the air feel heavy. But Yuuna's fire burned brighter. She flared her wings, the flames along her claws intensifying as she propelled herself upward. 

'She's skilled with my darkness…I could maybe even use her as an ally..if she'd just stop running! Those damn demon Monarchs really have a hold on her! I have to take the mask off!'

The monoliths responded, their liquid-like surfaces rippling as they detached from the ground and shot toward her with terrifying speed. They moved like spears, reshaping themselves mid-air to target her trajectory. Yuuna spun, her wings catching the air as she twisted between the projectiles. Each one missed her by a hair, their razor-sharp edges slicing through the space where she had been a fraction of a second earlier. One of them curved unnaturally, angling itself to intercept her mid-flight, but Yuuna anticipated it. She flipped backward, her wings folding tight against her body as the projectile streaked past her chest. In the same motion, she extended her claws, slashing through the monolith with a burst of fire that shattered its form into harmless fragments. 

'She's getting faster…? Using darkness to accelerate her speed. I could go into full dragon form to catch up with her, but it makes me tired at times after transforming, since I'm half human. And who knows what the hell else I'll run into!' Yuuna thought.

Parcy's pace quickened, her masked face tilting slightly as if to observe Yuuna's movements. She raised both hands this time, and the ground ahead of her split open, revealing a massive, yawning chasm that seemed to stretch infinitely downward. From its depths, something immense began to rise—a twisted amalgamation of stone, shadow, and corrupted iron that formed into a towering golem. Its body was a patchwork of jagged edges and misshapen limbs, each step it took causing the earth to tremble. The golem swung one massive arm toward Yuuna, its jagged fingers closing in with crushing force. 

Parcy exclaimed, "Why don't you just take the hint? Oh I forgot. You're the draconic goddess of darkness! You don't care about anyone! You don't care about anything but trying to stay alive, no matter how many you kill in the process!"

Yuuna darted to the side, her wings snapping open as she accelerated past the golem's reach. The massive hand crashed into the ground, sending a spray of rubble into the air, but Yuuna was already moving. She climbed higher into the sky, her claws glowing with heat as she dove toward the golem's head. With a single, precise strike, she drove her claws into the creature's skull, her fire spreading through its body like a virus. The golem groaned, its form cracking and collapsing as the flames consumed it from within. Yuuna kicked off its crumbling body, using the momentum to push herself forward, her eyes locked on Parcy. 

"I'm not evil anymore! Promise! I did good today! You can ask my darling Xyenn! He knows who I really am, and so do my Tyrants! I just.."

"You just wanna live, no matter who dies—!"

"You're wrong, brat! I'm tired of running! Tired of manipulating! Now I realized that if an amazing human like Xyenn can fight hard to live, and not let death claim him, I can be the same. But not as evil!"

"Lies! You're from hell! You're just lying to get close to me!"

"I could kill you if I wanted, and you know it. If I was such the evil goddess you remember me as, I would've enjoyed it by now, right?"

Parcy stood there, her mask grasping her tightly, and she floored in the sky, saying, "You're trying…to manipulate me now! You are!"

"I'm not! I can help you! I'm not the same Yuuna from before!"

"You think you can j-just turn good after all you did?! You should be helping me open the gates of Hell instead of stopping me!"

"I can't bring back the lives lost to my darkness, but I can save double or tr-triple the amount! I know you can't trust me after all I did, BUT I'm definitely a hero! I'm awesome!"

Parcy's fingers moved faster now, the gestures sharp and deliberate. The air around her shimmered as dozens of black orbs materialized, each one pulsing with unstable energy. The orbs shot toward Yuuna in rapid succession, zigzagging unpredictably as they closed the distance. Yuuna swerved between them, her wings tilting sharply as she maneuvered through the barrage. One of the orbs exploded just behind her, the force pushing her forward but doing no damage. Another orb curved toward her, but Yuuna whipped her tail around, the appendage igniting as it struck the orb mid-flight and detonated it harmlessly. 

The chase continued, the landscape growing more twisted and corrupted with every passing moment. Parcy's movements became more frantic, more desperate, as Yuuna closed the gap between them. 

The mask was whispering to Parcy, and Parcy shook her head.

'I can't..listen to her! She's the goddess of darkness! She manipulated so many weak minded humans! But she won't get me! I won't fall for it!'

The masked woman raised her arm one final time, and from the shadows around her, hundreds of identical figures emerged. They moved in perfect unison, dashing and weaving around each other in a chaotic storm of motion. Each clone mimicked Parcy's movements exactly, their forms indistinguishable from the original. The swarm surrounded Yuuna, their movements designed to confuse and disorient her as they darted in and out of her vision. 

But Yuuna wasn't fooled. Yuuna grinned, Her wings flared, and she hovered in place for a split second, her crimson eyes scanning the chaos with precision. Her body tensed, and then, in an instant, she was gone—a streak of light cutting through the storm of clones. The air ignited in her wake, the flames scorching away the shadowy copies as she moved faster than the eye could follow. 

Parcy barely had time to react before Yuuna was upon her. The dragon's claws shot out, her hand wrapping around Parcy's masked face with unrelenting force. The clones vanished instantly, their forms dissolving into wisps of smoke as the real Parcy was caught. Yuuna's fiery gaze bore into her, and for the first time, the chase was over. Parcy struggled against the grip, but Yuuna held her firm, her flames casting an ominous glow over the corrupted wasteland. The only sound was the crackle of fire and the faint, labored breathing of the woman who had finally been stopped.

Yuuna said, "I'm gonna take off the mask now, okay?"

"Let go of me, devil!"

"Nah, I don't think I will. I can smell you..you're not human. You're a pixie. I can smell the faint pixie dust. But it's corrupt..from my borrowed power."

"….Get It over with. I can't beat you. I can barely scratch you with your own power. But the mask will still find a new host! I only hope that they have the same drive as I have, to finish my mission. Maybe the Monarch can tell them that through the mask."

Yuuna gasped, thinking, 'That's it! The mask talks to her! If I can speak to it somehow..I can find out the Monarch who's been fucking up her mind!'

Yuuna grabbed the mask, and immediately pulled it off with hesitation. And there Parcy was. Burn marks edged the outline of her face from the mask, like literal hellfire touched it.

Parcy was indeed a pixie.

Her skin, once a soft, radiant hue of lavender that would have shimmered in the light, was now darkened and ashen, streaked with veins of inky black that pulsed faintly as though alive. 

Her hair, long and silken, spilled out beneath her cracked porcelain mask in a cascade of ghostly white strands. It glimmered faintly, as if traces of her old pixie dust still clung to every strand, though the dust was tainted. Where it should have glittered gold, it was now a dull, sickly green, trailing behind her like a decaying aura. The faint remnants of her pixie wings—once elegant and gossamer—were torn and fractured, blackened and warped by dark magic. Faint traces of corrupted pixie dust clung to the jagged edges, dripping like ash as they flickered weakly with dying light. 

"You caught me. I'm a pixie. A beast in the eyes of the Monarch." Parcy said.

"That's why he was able to tame you with the mask…"

"You see I'm still willing to wear it?! To achieve my goal?! Those girls…in the coven…they were like sisters to me. Helped me with everything. I'm the last pixie in Kyrrin. The dragon god who ruled over us died to none other than the dragon god of war himself, Ezrael."

"Huhhhh? Why?"

"Tsk! Why else? All those gods want is power, don't wanna die like you. They'll do anything. He knew it only takes one of us to fully worship our dragon god to sustain him forever."

Parcy's corrupted, trembling body twitched beneath Yuuna's grasp, her ashen lips twisting into a faint, bitter smile as her glowing red eyes locked onto Yuuna's. The faint remnants of her corrupted pixie dust pulsed weakly around her, shimmering like a dying ember before falling to the ground as dark, lifeless ash. Despite her condition, her voice carried a strange sense of clarity and grim authority, as though she was explaining a truth she had carried for far too long.

Her body shuddered beneath Yuuna's pressure, but she pressed on, her voice growing steadier, heavier, as though the weight of her words demanded to be heard. "That's all they are, you know. They're afraid. Afraid of death. They'll do anything to avoid it… even if it means destroying everything else in the process. You've seen it, haven't you? The way they cling to us, like parasites. They need us, Yuuna. They need our worship, our belief, our very essence to survive. Without it, they wither. They die. They lose everything they were, everything they are. And then they come back, empty and hollow, like a shadow of what they once were."

Her glowing eyes narrowed as she coughed weakly, more of the sickly green dust escaping her lips. "But they didn't just need anyone to sustain them. No. They wanted us. My people. The Feyri'el, the Pixies of the Astral Veil."

Parcy's voice shifted, taking on a mournful tone as she spoke of her people. "We were born in the Astral World, a place between worlds, where the unseen and the forgotten thrive. In the heart of that vast, shimmering expanse was our home: Vyrnthal'synla, the Grove of Eternal Light. It was a sanctuary, hidden away from mortal eyes and untouched by the corruption of Kyrrin. Our grove wasn't just a home—it was a living, breathing fragment of the Astral World itself. The trees, the air, the very ground pulsed with life, with magic. And at its center, the Feyri'el flourished, our presence keeping the grove alive, just as it kept us alive. You see, we weren't just part of the Astral World. We *were* the Astral World."

She paused, her chest rising and falling unevenly as her body trembled. "Do you know what it means to be born of the Astral Veil? It means we were created not just to exist, but to sustain. Our very essence—our pixie dust—was a gift from the First Dragon himself, the one who forged Kyrrin and the Astral World from his own essence. When he created the Feyri'el, he made us to be caretakers of the Veil, to keep the Astral World alive with our presence. Our dust… it isn't just magic. It's life. It's the very essence of creation, a fragment of the First Dragon's will. And when we worship a god—any god—our dust becomes theirs. It binds to them, sustains them, fills them with the strength to endure. Even one of us, worshiping a dragon god, is enough to sustain them for eternity. That's the power of our dust."

Her voice deepened with venom as she spoke the name. "Ezrael. The Dragon God of War. Do you know what he did to us? He came to our grove, demanding worship. Demanding us. He didn't want our belief out of reverence or love. No, he wanted our dust. He knew the truth. He knew that even one of us, alive and worshiping him, could sustain him forever. He didn't need a nation. He didn't need armies. He didn't need temples. He needed *one*. Just one Feyri'el. That's all it would take to keep him alive, to keep him from dying, from suffering the rebirth he feared so much."

Her voice cracked, and her body trembled with rage. "But he was too strong. When he came to Vyrnthal'synla, we tried to resist him. We tried to hide, to protect the grove. But he didn't care. He was reckless, destructive. He tore through the grove like it was nothing. His power was… unimaginable. He didn't even mean to kill us. He didn't have to. He was so strong, so careless, that just his presence destroyed everything. The trees burned. The sky darkened. The air turned to ash. And my people… my people died. All of them. He laughed. He *laughed!* He stood there, in the ruins of our home, and he laughed because he didn't care. He didn't need all of us. He only needed one."

Parcy's glowing eyes locked onto Yuuna's, her voice growing sharper, more direct. "Do you understand now? Our dust isn't just magic. It's life. It's creation. It's the reason the Astral World exists, the reason *we* exist. Without us, the Astral Veil would fade, just like the dragon gods would fade without worship. That's why Ezrael came for us. That's why he didn't care if he destroyed our grove. Because he knew he only needed one of us. Just one. And now…" Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Now I'm the last."

Yuuna sighed, "Yeahhh. I heard of the Astral World. It's right before our eyes but we can't see it. Besides those necromancers that run around everywhere. You pixies and other astral-like beings existed which kept the Astral World. And that went for all beings, right?"

"I don't think so. Not that I know of. But the more a deity or anyone who is not astral nature are quicker to die in there. That's why Ezrael has not been in there to look for other beings. But for some reason now ... .I can't feel the toemadce of the Astral World anymore. I can't see it. Like it's been hidden on purpose or destroyed. Like it's gone."

"Hmmm. Tell me, did you corrupt yourself with my darkness so you wouldn't be used as a worship tool? I'm smart, I know."

"Yeah I did. I don't want them taking me. But my pixie dust is strong, traces of it remain on me, meaning I'm still useful to them."

Parcy started to stand up. Her body was starting to rot slowly.

Yuuna staggered back, asking, "What's—."

"You took my mask off, which was keeping the darkness and the price of using it from taking me."

"Agh! I'm sorry! Uh, put it back on!"

Parcy stopped her, replying, "No. I realize this is the fastest way to see the coven and Halega. I have to pay the price for darkness. Please destroy the mask, you're capable of it. Otherwise if you run around it'll look for a host. The Monarch has connected his bond to it, thanks to me. I believe you and your darling Xyenn or whatever his name is will do what's right, hm?"

Yuuna didn't stop her, and Parcy began to be consumed by crows. But her last words were: "There are other witches through the continents…if you run into any, seek their aid! Kill those fucking dragon gods! All of them! You and your group! Please…"

Blood poured from Parcy as she finally was gone, and Yuuna stood there, the blood from Parcy, almost touching her feet.

(The Sanctuary)

The battle was over, yet the sanctuary felt more like a graveyard than a place of victory. The silence that followed Salazar's death wasn't peaceful—it was suffocating, heavy with the stench of blood, ash, and molten stone. The golden flames that had once radiated from Xyenn's sunlike head had long since died out, leaving only the faint glow of embers that clung to his battered body. He was on his knees in the center of the devastation, his head bowed, his breathing shallow and ragged. Blood streamed from his mouth with every hacking cough, staining the cracked ground beneath him. Red streaks ran from the corners of his eyes, cutting through the soot and grime on his face, as though his very life essence was leaking out of him. His left arm hung limply at his side, twitching uncontrollably, and his entire body trembled like a dying flame in the wind.

Xyenn gasped for air, but it felt like his lungs were collapsing. Every breath burned his chest like molten glass, and the taste of iron filled his mouth. His vision blurred, the world around him fading in and out of focus. He didn't feel victorious. He didn't feel like a hero. He felt like he was clinging to life by the thinnest thread, a body broken by his own recklessness and the overwhelming power he had barely been able to control. His mind screamed at him to move, to get up, to gather the strength to stand, but his body refused to obey. He was trapped in his own pain, drowning in it.

From a few feet away, Gorran stood still, his grip on his bloodied blade tightening as he watched Xyenn. His breathing was labored, but far steadier than the broken mess in front of him. His crimson eyes, sharp and calculating, lingered on Xyenn's trembling form. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He didn't even know what to feel. 

Gorran had always been brooding, a man who kept others at a distance. He didn't trust people, didn't like people, and certainly never felt pity for anyone. Xyenn wasn't supposed to be an exception. The two of them were rivals, equals only in the sense that they fought for the same cause but never for the same reasons. And yet, seeing him kneeling there, broken and bleeding, coughing up his life onto the charred stone…it didn't feel like victory. It didn't even feel satisfying. 

It felt wrong. 

Gorran's jaw clenched as he fought against the tangled mess of emotions twisting inside him. Fear clawed at the edges of his mind—fear that Xyenn might actually die here, in this ruined place. Anxiety churned in his gut, not because he cared about Xyenn, but because the idea of losing him—of losing the one person who could match him blow for blow—left a hollow ache he didn't want to admit was there. Anger bubbled beneath it all, anger at Xyenn's recklessness, at his willingness to throw himself into oblivion just to win, just to prove something. And then, there was something else. Not pity. Not sympathy. Something colder, sharper. 

Xyenn could've killed him. Gorran had seen it in his eyes, in the moment when the sun had consumed him. Xyenn had been seconds away from losing himself completely, from tearing Gorran apart in his blind fury. But he hadn't. Somehow, he had held back. Somehow, Xyenn had stopped himself. 

Gorran didn't know what to do with that. 

His eyes narrowed, and his hand twitched at his side. He wanted to walk away, to leave Xyenn here to deal with the consequences of his own recklessness. But his feet wouldn't move. His mind screamed at him to leave, to let Xyenn rot, but something else—something he didn't want to name—kept him rooted in place. 

"Damn it," Gorran muttered under his breath, his voice low and sharp. "You idiot." 

He stepped forward, his boots crunching over the rubble and ash as he approached Xyenn. His movements were slow, almost reluctant, as though his own body was fighting against him. When he reached Xyenn, he loomed over him, his crimson eyes cold and unreadable. "You look pathetic," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "What, all that light in your head burn out your brain too?" 

Xyenn coughed violently, blood splattering onto the ground as he tried—and failed—to raise his head. His body trembled, and a weak, raspy laugh escaped his lips. "You…you always know how to cheer me up, bastard" he croaked, his voice barely audible. 

Gorran scowled, the corner of his mouth twitching in irritation. Without warning, he raised his fist and drove it into Xyenn's stomach with brutal force. Xyenn doubled over, a pained wheeze escaping him as he clutched his abdomen. "Owww," he groaned, his voice cracking. He squinted up at Gorran, his face twisted in pain. "Whyyy did you do that?" 

Gorran looked away, his expression unreadable. "Nothing," he muttered, his voice gruff. "Can't have you dead when I'm supposed to make sure Yuuna stays in good spirits, is all." 

Xyenn let out a weak laugh, shaking his head as he slowly sat up, still holding his stomach. "You're a real softie, you know that?" 

"Shut up." 

Xyenn's hand reached out, grabbing Gorran's arm. His grip was weak but steady, and his bloodied red eyes locked onto Gorran's. "I'm reckless," Xyenn admitted, his voice low and strained. "I know it. I hate it. I promised myself I wouldn't lose again, that I wouldn't have to push this far just to survive. But I'm not strong enough yet." He coughed, blood dripping from his lips. "I need to be stronger. I need…you to train me. You and Mertha. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep…" He trailed off, his voice breaking. 

For a moment, Gorran just stared at him. He saw himself, years ago, kneeling in the dirt, bloodied and broken, begging his father to teach him how to protect his family. The memory hit him like a blade to the chest, and he hated it. He hated seeing himself in Xyenn. He hated the part of him that understood. 

With a sharp exhale, Gorran grabbed Xyenn by the arm and hauled him to his feet. His movements were rough, almost careless, but there was something steady in the way he held Xyenn up. "That'll give me the opportunity to put a beating on you," Gorran said, his voice sharp and edged with sarcasm. "You'll regret asking me." 

Xyenn grinned weakly, his voice barely a whisper. "In…your fucking…dreams." 

The warmth of the sunlight that had once illuminated the ruined sanctuary began to fade. Xyenn and Gorran both turned their heads toward the sky, their battered bodies tensing as they watched in disbelief. The sun, once golden and bright, was darkening. Shadows crawled across its surface like veins, spreading outward until the light was almost completely consumed. The sun turned black, its edges shimmering with an ominous, crimson glow. 

Far outside, Yuuna froze in place, her eyes wide with alarm as she stared up at the darkened sky. "What…is this?" she whispered, a chill running down her spine. 

Deep within a hidden cave, Mertha and Quinara turned toward the entrance, where the faint light of the sun had turned to shadow. Mertha's brow furrowed, her hand gripping her staff tightly. "Something's wrong," she said, her voice low. "Stay low!"

"Impossible…something touched the sun, something that had no reason."

"Darkness it seems. Do you know what will happen?"

"No. Do you?"

"Hell no I don't, that's why I'm asking."

"Ahh. I see."

Behind them, the shadows shifted, and the blood on the floor began to rise. The blood twisted and coalesced, forming humanoid figures that stood unnaturally still. The Blood Maidens were grotesque, their bodies made entirely of crimson liquid. Their forms were humanoid but imperfect—featureless faces, elongated limbs, and bodies that pulsed and rippled like living veins. Their heads dripped constantly, trails of blood falling to the ground and reabsorbing into their feet. 

In the sanctuary, the blood left behind from Salazar's battle began to move as well, pooling together into more of the Blood Maidens. Outside, Parcy's lifeless corpse twisted unnaturally, her blood spilling from her body and rising into the shape of yet another Maiden. 

The Maidens spoke in unison, their voices hollow and layered, like a chorus of the damned. "Please come with us, while darkness blocks the sun." 

Xyenn and Gorran froze, their eyes locking onto the figures as the ominous words hung in the air. The tension was suffocating. Something far worse was coming.

Xyenn clenching his fists, thought, 'Who are they?! Are those the Bloodmaidens Halega mentioned?! They have to be! It's obvious! And they erupted from the blood of the dead…even a being who was created? Are they that strong?'