The God's killer

The Star Road and the Blood Pact

Chapter 14: The Star-Road and the Blood Pact

The Mortal Realm, Above the World

Kael stepped onto the first star.

It shimmered beneath his feet solid, yet weightless, an ethereal bridge suspended between realms. The sky, once distant, now welcomed him like a home lost to memory. Each step upon the celestial road echoed across the veil, waking constellations that had not stirred in ten thousand years.

Behind him, Lira hesitated.

"Can I walk it too?" she asked softly, her voice uncertain in the boundless quiet.

Kael extended his hand.

"You already are."

She blinked and realized her foot was upon a thread of woven light, shaped like a rose, pulsing faintly with the same magic that had awakened in her hands during the battle. The road was answering her now too.

Because her soul had been part of this story from the very beginning.

Together, they walked across the heavens.

Below them, the world curved into darkness. Mountains became whispers. Oceans shrank to ink stains. The air shimmered with the weight of old magic. Fragments of forgotten gods shattered divinities long since lost floated like drifting debris in the space between stars.

Lira looked to Kael. “What is the Temple of Origin?”

He answered without turning his head.

“It is not a place. It is a memory so old, even the gods forgot they had buried it. It’s where I made them. Where I bound them. Where the first lie was written.”

Her breath caught. “What lie?”

Kael’s eyes, white-sclera and abyssal-black irises, reflected a faraway sorrow.

“That they were born divine.”

And the stars pulsed at his words as if the road itself were listening.

The Celestial Sanctum: Council of the Twelve

The gods had not slept.

They gathered in the inner sanctum, beneath the Eye of All Days, a suspended sphere of time that showed every moment in the world simultaneously. Around them, stars moved in agitation, as though trying to flee from the truth creeping back into creation.

Elarya knelt before it, her fingers trembling with divine ink as she wrote new fate-script across reality.

“We need to change the prophecy,” she whispered. “We must undo the bond. Separate the pieces. Shatter the road.”

“You cannot rewrite the star-road,” Vaelun said, arms crossed. “It was made by him. It answers only to his voice.”

Aeris slammed her staff down. “Then we sever the voice! Strike him before he remembers more!”

But Toras, still bruised in pride from his echo’s destruction, growled, “Strike how? The path is sealed. Only those bonded by the root flame can reach the Temple.”

“And he is the only one who ever commanded it,” Vaelun murmured.

A long silence.

Until a voice not spoken, but felt echoed through the sanctum.

“Then break the seal.”

They turned.

And saw her.

Clad in shadow-wrought robes, face veiled in mourning silk, stood the Nameless One the only god never given form or title, because even knowledge of her name was cursed.

She was their final fail-safe.

Their last unspoken pact.

“If he reaches the Temple,” she whispered, “he will remember the forge of gods. The truth of what you did to him. To her.”

She gestured vaguely to the star-map, where Kael and Lira’s silhouettes shimmered across the path.

“If he awakens the full Flame, none of you will remain.”

“And what would you have us do?” Elarya asked, voice shaking. “Kill him? Again?”

“No,” the Nameless One said, stepping forward.

“Unmake him.”

The Star-Road, Nearing the Edge of Heaven

The stars began to tremble.

Kael halted mid-step. Ahead, the road flickered.

“They’re trying to close it,” he said grimly.

“How?”

“They’re rewriting the heavens. Twisting fate-scripts. Pulling on the root laws that bind reality itself.”

Lira gritted her teeth. “Can you stop it?”

“I don’t have to.” Kael knelt and placed his palm on the road. “Because this road doesn’t belong to them anymore.”

Light surged beneath his hand turning crimson gold.

And the stars obeyed.

From behind them, constellations burst into flame not with fire, but with remembrance. Warrior, Maiden, Phoenix, Anchor, Blade all ancient signs of the First War, all bound to Kael’s will.

The road re-formed, anchoring itself not to prophecy but to memory.

Kael rose slowly.

“They want to unmake me?” he said, voice low.

“Let them try.”

His form shimmered, shadowed wings flickering faintly behind his shoulders. A crown of black flame spun behind his head for a heartbeat, then vanished.

He wasn’t whole yet.

But he was no longer broken.

Lira stepped beside him, her hand finding his.

“What happens when we reach the Temple?”

Kael looked ahead, past the end of the road, toward the vast silhouette of a mountain floating in the void the Origin Temple, carved from starlight and time.

“Then we stop running.”

He turned to her, eyes glowing with layered galaxies and ancient grief.

“And we make the gods answer.”