Arlen stepped forward.

  His demonic eye burned crimson, rage coiled tight in his veins—but this time, he wasn’t alone.

  Behind him stood his team. His new family. Silent, steady, unyielding.

  And before him stood the object of his hatred.

  Chronos.

  The God of Time looked down at him with absolute indifference, as though Arlen were nothing more than dust caught in the flow of seconds.

  Near Chronos’ feet sat a familiar figure.

  White robes.

  Golden halo.

  Pure, radiant wings.

  Chloe.

  Arlen’s first love.

  His fists clenched so hard his nails bit into his palms.

  “So,” Arlen said, voice low and sharp, “you’ve decided to play the hostage game now? You trying to take revenge for killing Ianthe and her kid?”

  Chronos sighed lazily, as if bored.

  “Hostage? Revenge?” he replied. “Such petty concepts are beneath me.”

  His gaze never once left Arlen.

  “I already know Ianthe betrayed me with Mortis. I also know you didn’t kill the child. Ianthe and Mortis’ betrayal, that… was my miscalculation.”

  Arlen’s jaw tightened.

  “And as for your so-called revenge,” Chronos continued calmly, “you are far too insignificant to wound me.”

  He lifted a hand, fingers resting casually against his chin.

  “Still, rage clouds my judgment. The thought that gods no longer rule humans enrages me. The fact that a weakling like Mortis manipulated me fills me with disgust.”

  Then his eyes sharpened.

  “So I will give you a chance.”

  Arlen didn’t blink.

  “Bring me Mortis,” Chronos said. “And bring me the Demon Queen.”

  A faint smile touched his lips.

  “After I kill them, my anger will subside. In return, I spare your worthless life.”

  For a heartbeat, the world was silent.

  Then Arlen laughed.

  Not loud.

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  Not manic.

  Cold.

  “You really are a parasite,” Arlen laughed. “You demand a lot for someone already standing on his grave.”

  Chronos’ expression hardened.

  “I’ll give

  a choice instead,” Arlen continued, eyes blazing.

  “Give Chloe back. Release her from your damn brainwashing.”

  He raised his blade slightly.

  “And I’ll give you an easy death.”

  Chronos looked… surprised.

  “Brainwashing?” he echoed, almost amused. “You truly are a fool, maggot.”

  He gestured lazily toward Chloe.

  “Heaven has already declared it law—no god may control humans or force angelhood. She came to me of her own free will.”

  Something inside Arlen cracked.

  Free… will?

  His breath hitched.

  His hands trembled, doubt seeping into his chest like poison.

  But before the uncertainty could swallow him whole—

  A hand landed firmly on his shoulder.

  Steady. Grounding.

  “We can ask her ourselves,” Cornea said behind him.

  “No need to listen to a liar’s mouth.”

  Arlen inhaled slowly.

  His grip tightened.

  And he stepped forward once more.

  Raikiri slid into his left hand.

  Soul Eater into his right.

  Behind the blade, bound like a talisman of defiance, the Anchor of Causality

  tightened—silent, absolute.

  Then he moved.

  He dashed forward.

  Dryas raised her hand, voice trembling yet resolute.

  “Oh forest—answer my call.”

  Roots and vines erupted from the ground beside Arlen, surging forward like living spears, aiming straight for the God of Time.

  Nyx and Grom charged from opposite flanks.

  Aura’s pollen flowed through the air, invisible and lethal.

  Tethys summoned a water dragon, its jaws opening wide, waiting for the slightest opening. Just like Dryas, she doesn’t need her divinity, the water listens to the call of this tiny mortal on its own accord.

  Cornea’s crimson eyes flared as dark magic condensed in her palm, heavy with annihilation.

  The entire team attacked as one.

  Chronos didn’t move.

  He didn’t even look at them.

  Instead—

  Chloe stepped forward.

  She placed herself directly in front of him.

  The barrage stopped.

  Every root froze.

  Every blade halted mid-motion.

  Every spell collapsed into silence.

  Arlen stumbled.

  His breath caught.

  “STOPPPP!”

  Chloe’s scream tore through the throne room.

  “Don’t you dare hurt our beloved

  Her eyes burned—rage and grief twisting together.

  “I can’t believe I ever fell in love with someone who fights against gods!”

  The words meant nothing to anyone else.

  But to Arlen—

  They shattered him.

  “I heard from Lord Chronos,” she continued, tears spilling freely, “that you call yourself a ! You’re the reason everyone in the town stopped worshipping him!”

  Her voice cracked.

  “How horrible! You sided with demons! You tried to kill my lord!”

  Then she screamed—small, desperate, absolute.

  “I HATE YOU, ARLEN!

  Falling in love with you was the worst mistake of my life!”

  His legs shook.

  She was gone.

  Not controlled.

  Not manipulated.

  Lost.

  Arlen understood why.

  A girl who lost her parents too young.

  A girl whose only remaining pillar was faith – so much that it became her hope.

  A faith so deep it erased memory itself.

  She forgot—

  That Arlen was the one who stayed beside her when she cried alone.

  The one who listened when no god answered.

  The one who helped her stand when no hope answered.

  Arlen took a step back.

  “Snap out of it, Chloe…”

  His voice trembled—not with anger, but desperation.

  The desperation of a boy who didn’t know how to save someone anymore.

  “I’m doing this for your own good—”

  “SHUT UP!”

  Her scream cut him off.

  “You villain! If you try to hurt the god I worship—if you try to hurt my hope—if you try to hurt the god who helped me stand—”

  Her wings spread wide.

  Brilliant. Radiant.

  Blocking his path to Chronos.

  “Then I will fight you.”

  Dryas saw it clearly.

  This was his karma. A cruel yet unfairly fair karma.

  The same cruelty Arlen used when he shattered Chronos with truth of Ianthe’s betrayal—now turned back on him.

  He exposed betrayal.

  Now he was the one betrayed.

  His kindness never mattered.

  His presence never mattered.

  It wasn’t faith.

  It was blind faith

  And it stood between him and his revenge.