Nathan staggered, his arms instinctively reaching out to catch her as she collapsed forward. Her weight fell against him, her blood soaking his already torn clothes.
“Sienna…” he whispered hoarsely, his vision blurring as he struggled to hold her upright.
In the distance, Agamemnon stood, his face twisted into a maddened grin. His sword, still glowing with the remnants of Hera’s blessing, radiated heat as he watched the chaos he had unleashed.
The battlefield was silent for a moment, the aftermath of the attack leaving both allies and enemies in stunned disbelief.
Nathan’s grip tightened around Sienna’s lifeless form, his teeth gritted against the pain and rage building within him.
“Sienna, look at me…” Nathan’s voice, hoarse and strained, barely carried over the battlefield’s chaos. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips as he coughed violently, the gaping hole in his stomach stealing away what little strength he had left.
Despite the pain that threatened to pull him into unconsciousness, his trembling hands reached for Sienna’s lifeless form. Her head lolled weakly against his chest, and her once-brilliant blue eyes were glazed over, unfocused.
“Please, Sienna…” His voice cracked, his words trembling with desperation. “It’s me… Nathan… Please wake up…”
But there was no response. Her body was unnervingly still, her breaths shallow, if they existed at all.
Nathan’s heart clenched. No, it couldn’t be her. Not Sienna.
Among his siblings, Sienna was the one who had always stood by him. She had never belittled him, never spat cruel words in his direction like others had. While she wasn’t outgoing or sociable, she had shown him a quiet, steadfast love, always doing her best to ease his burdens. Her kindness had been a light in the oppressive darkness of his life.
His mind reeled as the horrifying reality began to set in. Sienna, the sister he cherished most, was slipping away.
Meanwhile, the Gods of Troy stood frozen, their divine forms exuding shock and disbelief.
Aphrodite clutched her chest, her face pale with worry. Ares glared at the scene, his hands balled into fists, a fire of rage simmering in his eyes. Artemis, ever stoic, had an arrow nocked and drawn, her gaze narrowing at Hera, Athena, and Poseidon.
None of them had anticipated this.
Hera, Athena, and Poseidon had gone against Zeus’s explicit orders to protect Nathan. It was a calculated and treacherous move, one made possible by Hera’s deception. She had kept the truth of Zeus’s slumber hidden, ensuring no one would question her actions until it was too late.
Now, the battlefield was steeped in their betrayal, and Nathan was on the brink of death.
Nathan’s trembling hand rested against Sienna’s cheek, but her blue eyes had already fluttered closed. Her breathing slowed to almost nothing, her skin growing unnervingly pale.
“No…” he whispered, his voice breaking.
Suddenly, Sienna’s body was enveloped in a brilliant glow, the soft radiance lifting her from Nathan’s arms. The light cradled her, carrying her into the air with a divine gentleness.
Nathan’s eyes widened in confusion and dread as he looked up. Athena, her expression a storm of fury, descended from the heavens. Her piercing gaze wasn’t directed at him but at Agamemnon and Hera.
The goddess’s rage was palpable. For a fleeting moment, it seemed she might unleash her divine wrath upon them both, but instead, she held back, her composure rigidly maintained. She clenched her fists, her face dark with restrained anger, before vanishing from the battlefield in a flash of light. She had no choice but to act quickly to save Sienna.
Nathan remained on his knees, staring at the space where Sienna had been moments before. Blood pooled beneath him, flowing freely from the grievous wound in his stomach. His face, streaked with dirt and blood, was utterly void of light.
And then…
BADOOOOOM!
A shockwave of darkness erupted from him, expanding in all directions like a tidal wave of malevolence. The ground quaked beneath its oppressive force, and the air grew heavy with a suffocating dread.
For so long, Nathan had concealed this power, suppressing it beneath layers of restraint and self-control to not reveal his identity. But now, with death’s cold hand reaching for him, he no longer cared.
He had one minute left—one final, fleeting moment before the end claimed him.
If that was all he had, then so be it. He would make this minute count.
With that dark thought, Nathan pushed himself to his feet. Darkness seeped from his wound, filling the gaping hole in his stomach, holding his body together just enough for him to move.
His eyes burned with an intensity that made even the gods falter. They were no longer the eyes of a desperate man but those of a predator.
Nathan turned, his gaze locking onto Liphiel.
The Divine knight’s expression, so confident and condescending before, twisted into sheer terror. Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched as she took a trembling step back.
Nathan’s every movement exuded menace, the aura of darkness around him warping and crackling like living shadows. His gaze bore into her with murderous intent, a promise of vengeance that sent shivers down her spine.
For the first time in her life, Liphiel felt true fear. Her body trembled, and her composure shattered as she stared into the eyes of a man who had nothing left to lose.
This wasn’t just Nathan anymore. This was death incarnate, and it was coming for her.
Nathan took a deliberate step forward, and the ground beneath him responded as if obeying his will. Darkness, thick and oppressive, unfurled from his feet like a living shadow, spreading outward in an eerie tide. The inky void slithered past the Trojans, sparing them entirely, but it engulfed every Greek soldier in its path.
For those caught in its grip, the sensation was instantaneous and devastating. Their energy and mana were siphoned away as if devoured by an insatiable void. One by one, they crumbled to the ground, lifeless husks. For mortals, being utterly drained of vitality—of energy, stamina, and mana—was synonymous with death itself.
The battlefield fell silent for a breath, the Greeks’ collective collapse casting a grim shadow over the ongoing war. But Nathan did not linger. In a flash, his form dissolved into a streak of pure darkness, cutting through the air like a predator zeroing in on its prey.
His destination was clear: Liphiel.
The moment her eyes caught sight of his approach, Liphiel’s composed demeanor shattered. Her expression twisted into one of sheer terror, her fear written plainly across her face. In a frantic attempt to defend herself, she raised her staff, her hands trembling as she summoned every ounce of her divine power.
“Celestial Magic! Kill this evil being! Spear of the God of Light!” she cried, her voice tinged with desperation.
A radiant spear materialized in her grasp, its golden glow pulsating with celestial energy. The spear’s brilliance was blinding, a weapon forged to combat the vilest darkness, designed to counter the power wielded by the previous Demon King himself.
But Nathan did not falter.
He surged toward her with unwavering resolve, his dark aura crackling ominously. The spear, with its divine brilliance, launched toward him, ripping through the air with a deafening BADAAAAM! Its light was so intense that it forced even those far away to shield their eyes. The spear radiated a purity so potent it seemed to consume darkness itself.
Yet Nathan remained undeterred.
With a sharp motion, he drew his weapon—a blade as dark as the abyss, imbued with the essence of the Demon King. As the spear neared, Nathan swung his sword down in a single, decisive strike.
BADOOOOOM!
The clash of powers unleashed a cataclysmic explosion, the resulting shockwave rippling across the battlefield. The celestial spear splintered into two, its fragments disintegrating into nothingness.
Liphiel froze, her expression one of absolute disbelief. Her mouth fell open, her wide eyes reflecting the impossible reality before her. She barely had time to react before Nathan appeared in front of her, his hand lashing out like a viper.
He seized her throat in an iron grip.
“Gaaah!” Liphiel choked, her voice rasping as her glasses shattered and fell away. Nathan slammed her into the ground with enough force to crack the earth beneath her.
He loomed over her, his golden, demonic eyes glowing like twin suns in the darkness. His voice was low, venomous, and laced with malice.
“I finally got you, little bitch,” he spat, his tone devoid of any warmth.
Liphiel gasped for air, her voice a strained whisper. “Y…you’re him… Nathan,” she managed, her words barely audible.
Nathan’s grip tightened mercilessly around her throat, cutting off her air entirely. “I told you, Liphiel at that time,” he said, his voice as cold as death itself. “Killing me would come with consequences.”
Liphiel clawed at his hand, her struggles futile against his overwhelming strength.
Without waiting for her to respond, Nathan summoned his magic. Darkness coiled around his form, and with a flick of his hand, flames erupted. The fire, born of his wrath and enhanced by his dark magic, ignited Liphiel’s body.