The God's killer

The Blade Forged in Heaven

Chapter 26: The Blade Forged in Heaven

The path into the Ruins of Nhar’zul was etched in old blood and older warnings. Forbidden by the gods since the First Sundering, the place reeked of ancient power a place where truth was carved into stone and sealed away with sorrow.

Kael walked at the front of their fractured company, his eyes sharp, his aura dark with a restrained fury. Lira moved beside him, wings cloaked in ethereal shimmer, her expression unreadable. Each step echoed with the weight of what they’d become: hunted, betrayed, and still rising.

Behind them trailed Kira, her flame dimmed but ever-watchful; the twin rangers, silent and tense; and Oracle Myria, who whispered fragments of possible futures under her breath, half-mad and growing worse by the day.

None spoke of what had happened the night before.

None trusted each other fully anymore.

But they moved forward.

They had to.

The Hunt Begins

“The shadows shift unnaturally,” Kira muttered. “He’s here. He’s toying with us.”

Kael grunted. “Then we end the game.”

Lira raised a hand. “No. Let him think we’re predictable.”

She knelt at a stone altar etched with the symbol of broken balance a place older than the gods who hunted them. Her fingers traced a spiral rune. The air rippled.

“An echo of the assassin’s presence,” she murmured. “Residual intent. He came here for more than a strike.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “A map. Or a memory.”

Suddenly, an explosion of shadow surged from a nearby crypt.

The group scattered as Veyr lunged from the dark, blades arcing for Lira’s throat. Kael caught him mid-strike, steel meeting steel. Sparks flew, but Veyr didn’t fall back. He laughed.

“Even gods bleed, Kael. And you're not what you used to be.”

Kael’s rage flared gold and black light erupting around him. His armor pulsed with ancient glyphs, and Ashbringer screamed in his grip.

Their duel shattered the silence of the ruins.

As they clashed, Lira dove inward, into the sealed vault Veyr had emerged from desperate to understand what he had been seeking.

Inside the Vault

Lira stood before a mural depicting a war not recorded in any known lore. A god fell not slain by a blade, but cast down by choice. And beside him stood a radiant woman with silver eyes.

> “This was us,” she whispered.

She reached out.

A surge of divine memory pierced her.

A flood of love, sacrifice, betrayal.

She saw herself condemning the gods for their cruelty.

She saw herself fall so Kael might rise.

Her breath caught in her throat.

> “I was never meant to survive the prophecy,” she realized.

But the prophecy had changed.

Because Kael had changed fate.

And now, both of them lived.

Betrayal in the Camp

Back above, as Kael forced Veyr to retreat once more into smoke and blood, a deeper wound was struck in their midst.

Oracle Myria, trembling, whispered to the twins:

> “The fire-girl will doom us all. Her loyalty bends like a dying flame. She hesitated, again. You saw it.”

Kira turned sharply. “You speak prophecy as if it’s fact.”

“Because it is,” Myria spat. “And I see betrayal. Yours.”

Before any could react, the twins drew their bows.

But not on Myria.

On Kira.

Heaven’s Response: The Divine Weapon

Far above, in the floating sanctum of Valoria, the gods stood in a council of fire and fury.

Xeruun, his form flickering with unstable light, slammed his spear into the floor. “The assassin failed.”

“Because you toyed with him,” snarled the War Goddess, Ath’Zariel. “This isn’t a test. It’s extermination.”

They turned to the forgemaster god, Tharion. He stood silently before a burning forge, in whose flames a sword was being shaped not of steel, but of pure celestial law.

“A weapon,” he said, “to kill not only Kael, but his very essence. His soul will scatter across time.”

“Can it be done?” Xeruun demanded.

“It is already being done.”

The forge flared white.

> “We name it Judicar. The end of gods. The end of rebellion.”

Return to the Ruins

Kael found Lira emerging from the crypt, her face pale, her eyes glowing with knowledge and sorrow.

“You saw it,” he said quietly.

“I remembered it,” she corrected. “All of it.”

Their hands met.

But behind them, shouting erupted.

Kira stood surrounded, accused. Oracle Myria wept and pointed a bloodied hand. The rangers were on edge.

> “Enough!” Lira’s voice rang with divine force.

They froze.

“No more cracks. Not here. Not now.”

Kael stepped forward. “Heaven has chosen war. We cannot afford it among ourselves.”

He looked to Kira. “Do I have your sword?”

Kira stared for a long moment and nodded. “You do.”

But Myria’s eyes burned. And she did not bow.

As night fell over the ruins, Kael and Lira stood together beneath ancient stars. Above them, in realms unseen, the gods prepared their final weapon.

And far to the east, Veyr whispered to himself as he stood over a dark altar.

> “Let them believe they’ve won this game.”

He drove a cursed blade into the earth.

> “The next move... belongs to the forgotten ones.”