The God's killer

The Spear of Silence and the First Blow

Chapter 16: The Spear of Silence and the First Blow

Within the Temple of Origin, Where Memory Bends

The moment the Godbane was clasped in Kael’s hand, the very laws that governed the realm began to bend.

The stars dimmed.

The floor of the Temple, woven from history and divine order, rippled outward like water disturbed by the drop of truth. The ripple stretched beyond the physical shaking the memory of every living soul that had ever felt the gods’ breath on their lives.

Kael stood tall, black irises devouring the last traces of mortal light in his gaze. His long white hair whipped around him as currents of divine energy spiraled like a storm born from eternity.

Lira stepped beside him, her silver-glowing form unsteady. The temple pulsed around her like it recognized her essence and hesitated between reverence and fear.

Across from them, Elarya’s threads fluttered in confusion. Aeris held her blade tightly, though sweat beaded her brow. Even Vaelun, the starlord, looked shaken as though a forgotten truth had clawed its way back into his soul.

"I should have seen this," he murmured. "We all should have."

"No," Elarya whispered. "We saw. We just chose to forget."

Kael raised his hand, and the floating memories around them coalesced into one scene one final, damning truth.

It showed the gods in the Sanctum, surrounding a chained Kael, his divine core already fractured, Lira’s soul glowing in the crystal cage above them. Their voices echoed in judgment:

“He is too great. Even in love, he is dangerous.”

“We must seal him away… lest he end all.”

“We must erase his name from the stars.”

The spear pulsed.

Kael lowered his hand. "I remember now. Not just what you did. But why. You feared not my power but your dependence on it."

"You made us," Elarya whispered, tears trailing silver down her cheeks. "And in doing so, you made us lesser. We could not bear the truth of our own weakness."

Lira’s voice rang like a chime of divine glass. "Then why not tell the mortals? Why rule with masks and riddles?"

"Because if mortals knew," Vaelun answered bitterly, "they would love him again. And we… would fade."

Aeris moved forward. "Enough. If you won’t stand down, Kael, I will end this here."

Kael stepped forward, and the air shattered with force.

"Try," he said simply.

Her blade lashed out in a blur. Divine lightning followed her movements, fast enough to burn through dimensions.

But the Godbane met every strike with effortless precision. Where her blade was forged in glory, Kael’s weapon was forged in silence. Her fury crashed into the void of his control.

Strike after strike, they clashed sundering memories, rewriting history with each blow. Whole constellations blinked out in the sky above the Temple, snuffed by the fallout of their duel.

Kael wasn’t merely fighting.

He was remembering through battle.

For every strike Aeris threw, Kael saw another moment stolen from him.

Lira dying.

Lira’s soul being carved.

His throne taken.

His name erased.

His children lying.

The Spear of Silence burst with energy, finally driving Aeris to her knees. Her armor cracked. Divinitas, her blade, snapped in half.

Kael stood over her, panting slightly not from exhaustion, but restraint.

He had not yet killed her.

"You were the one I trusted most," he said softly.

"I know," Aeris choked, unable to meet his gaze.

Behind them, Elarya whispered, “The others… they will come. They will not ask questions like we have.”

"They’ll bring the Thronefire," Vaelun added. "They’ll burn the world to stop you from returning."

Kael turned toward the glowing breach the gods had arrived through. Beyond it, the high Sanctum quaked. Divine forces were gathering. The pantheon would not remain divided for long.

But something else stirred.

A chill deeper than the void slithered through the Temple.

Kael froze.

So did Lira.

From the cracks in memory and time, eyes opened—glimmering orbs of ancient hunger. Dark watchers, unblinking. They did not belong to the Twelve.

They belonged to the things beneath them.

The Deep Forgotten.

Creatures born before time, sealed by Kael himself before the gods even rose. Beings that had waited silently for this moment for the gods to fall, for balance to tip, for the gate to open.

Lira’s voice was a whisper of dread. “They see you.”

Kael’s grip on the spear tightened. “They’ve always seen me.”

The Nameless One still watching in silences miled faintly.

“You are no longer simply reclaiming your name,” she said. “You are drawing the attention of the ones who wait beneath even divinity.”

Kael didn’t flinch. “Let them watch. I’m not done yet.”

He looked to the heavens.

"I’m coming for my throne."

And this time, I won't sit on it alone.