“Let’s stop this,” he murmured.
He met her gaze, his gold demonic eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent an unfamiliar chill through her body.
And then, he said something that shook her to her very core.
“For our daughter.”
Khillea froze in place, her entire body rigid as Nathan’s words sank in.
For our daughter?
Had she misheard him? No… he had said it clearly, without hesitation. The weight of those words pressed down on her, making her heart pound in her chest.
Her breath hitched. It couldn’t be.
“N…Nathan?” she finally managed to whisper, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and raw emotion.
She had thought him. Lost. Erased from the world. She thought he would never come back anymore to her.
The man standing before her looked different. Completely different. His presence was overwhelming, his strength undeniable. His very existence now exuded a power that seemed to defy all reason. Yet… as she stared into his face, listened closely to the cadence of his voice, something stirred deep within her. It was him. It had to be.
Nathan’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile, as if he understood exactly what was going through her mind.
“It’s really you?” she asked again, her fingers trembling at her sides.
His expression softened, but his voice carried a weight of regret.
“I am,” he said solemnly. “I regret that I wasn’t there… when our daughter was born. When Patroclus died.”
The name Patroclus sent a violent shudder through Khillea. Her fists clenched, her entire body stiffening as a surge of grief and fury clawed its way to the surface.
Yes. That’s right. Patroclus.
Her rage had a purpose. Her grief had a name.
No matter who stood before her—no matter if it was Nathan himself—she would not abandon her revenge.
“I don’t care,” she said, forcing down the overwhelming storm of emotions threatening to break through her composure. Her voice was cold, controlled—her sword arm steady, despite the chaos within. “Let me pass.”
Nathan’s gaze hardened instantly.
“No,” he said firmly. “I won’t let you throw your life away in some senseless, suicidal revenge.”
Khillea’s head snapped up, her eyes flashing dangerously.
“Senseless?” Her voice cracked with fury. “You have no idea what I felt for Patroclus! He was the only family I had in this cursed world!”
Her body trembled—not in weakness, but in the overwhelming power coursing through her veins. Magic surged outward, crackling in the air.
Flames erupted.
Her sword ignited once more, its searing light bathing the battlefield in an ominous glow. The fire coiled around her body, wrapping her in a blinding aura of vengeance.
Nathan, however, didn’t flinch. He remained still, his silver-white hair barely shifting in the wind as he met her fury with a gaze of unshaken resolve.
“I know,” he said quietly.
His voice was steady, yet heavy with meaning.
“I didn’t speak to him much, but I knew one thing for certain.” Nathan’s eyes softened, but only slightly. “He cared about you. More than anything.”
Khillea’s grip tightened around her sword.
Nathan continued. “And he would never—never—have wanted you to die like this.”
She felt her breath catch, just for a moment.
But the anger was still there.
“In vain?” she spat back. “You think this is in vain? You don’t understand anything, Nathan. We are going to win this war.”
Nathan shook his head, his expression darkening.
“This isn’t about the war anymore, Khillea,” he said, voice now ice-cold. “You and I both know that.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but his next words struck like a blade to the heart.
“I’ve slept with you twice,” Nathan continued, his voice measured yet unyielding, “and I’ve spoken with you enough to understand who you really are. You’re not doing this for strategy, for victory, or for the Greeks. You’re doing this because you think you have nothing left.”
Khillea’s breath hitched.
“After you kill Paris, after you cut down whoever remains in your path—you won’t stop. You’ll keep fighting. Keep slaughtering. And then one day… you’ll die. Not as a warrior. Not as a hero. But as a broken puppet in the middle of Trojan soil, discarded without a second thought.”
His eyes, colder than she had ever seen them, pierced straight through her.
“And I refuse to let that happen.”
A heavy silence fell between them.
Khillea stood frozen, her mind at war with itself. Her flames flickered, their rage momentarily shaken.
Nathan wasn’t pleading. He wasn’t begging. He wasn’t even trying to convince her with words of comfort.
He was declaring.
Khillea’s grip on her sword tightened as she glared at Nathan, her breath ragged with emotion. Was he really going to stand in her way?
“Are you going to stop me?” she asked, her voice laced with both defiance and pain.
Nathan’s response was firm.
“Yes.”
Khillea gritted her teeth. Then so be it.
In an instant, her form blurred. She vanished from sight, reappearing in a flash of golden light as she swung her sword down upon him.
Nathan’s black blade rose to meet hers, their weapons clashing with a force that sent violent tremors rippling through the ground beneath them. A deafening shockwave exploded outward. The very earth split apart beneath their feet as they exchanged a flurry of strikes, each blow colliding with enough power to shatter boulders.
Nathan’s movements were calm, calculated—his ice sword meeting her blazing slashes with unyielding precision. Fire and ice clashed in a furious dance of destruction.
“You have a daughter now,” Nathan said, his voice carrying over the roar of their battle. “You should take care of her. Raise her.”
Khillea’s eyes widened for the briefest of moments before she gritted her teeth, her attacks growing fiercer.
“I am not a good mother!” she screamed, her voice raw. Tears burned at the edges of her vision, but she refused to let them fall. “I won’t be! I can’t be!”
Nathan’s expression softened—but his stance did not waver.
“You can become a good mother,” he countered, deflecting another one of her searing strikes. “I know that. And I will help you.”
Khillea’s movements faltered for a split second. Help her? Him? After all this time?
Her eyes widened in shock. But before the emotions could settle, she gritted her teeth and lunged forward once again.
She couldn’t afford to believe in his words. Not now.
“You left me alone,” she muttered under her breath, anger simmering beneath her grief. She had called out to him. She had wanted him to stay. And yet—”You didn’t stay with me when I asked!”
Nathan’s response was cool, unshaken.
“I had other issues to deal with,” he admitted. Then, without hesitation, he added, “And I have other women to take care of.”
Khillea froze for a fraction of a second, her eyes flickering with an emotion far darker than mere anger.
“T…Then how are you going to take care of me?!” she demanded, her voice cracking with something she refused to name.
Nathan didn’t hesitate.
“I can. And I will,” he declared, his icy gaze locking onto hers. “Since the day I claimed you, you were already mine, Khillea. And I forbid you from throwing your life away.”
Her heart pounded furiously against her ribs, but she refused to let his words shake her.
“You can’t order me around!” she roared, thrusting her hand forward.
A blinding wave of searing flames and radiant light surged toward him. A devastating storm of Celestial Rank Magic.
Nathan remained unfazed.
With a single motion, he swung his black sword through the attack, slicing it apart as if it were nothing but mist.
Khillea barely had time to react before he moved—faster than she had ever seen before.
Nathan closed the distance between them in an instant.
Khillea gritted her teeth, raising her blade. She wouldn’t go down that easily.
She gathered all of her magic, preparing another devastating attack. Celestial Rank Magic burned at her fingertips—a spell powerful enough to obliterate everything in its path.
But Nathan’s sword moved first.
A prison of ice erupted around her.
The frost spread like creeping vines, coiling around her limbs, her waist, her legs—freezing her in place before she could react.
Khillea’s eyes widened.
This ice—it wasn’t normal.
She summoned her flames, preparing to melt through it in an instant. But it didn’t melt.
Khione’s ice.
Before she could completely break free, Nathan was already upon her.
She had no choice. She needed to change tactics.
With a furious cry, she summoned a radiant barrier of pure light around her—a shield strong enough to repel even the most powerful darkness magic.
He wouldn’t be able to touch her now.
Or so she thought.
Nathan didn’t hesitate.
He simply reached forward.
Khillea’s eyes widened in pure disbelief as his hand pierced straight through her barrier—as if it were nothing but a veil of mist.
Impossible.
Before she could react, his fingers wrapped around her wrist. And then—
He pulled her forward.
A gasp escaped her lips as she stumbled straight into his arms.
And then, before she could even begin to struggle—
Nathan wrapped his arms around her.
A firm, unrelenting embrace.
Khillea’s breath caught in her throat.
Her flames flickered. Her entire body tensed.
But she didn’t push him away.
For the first time since this battle had begun—she didn’t know what to do.
“You don’t have to fight anymore,” Nathan whispered, his arms tightening around Khillea in a gentle embrace.
His voice was calm—steady—like an unshakable force amidst the storm raging within her.
Khillea trembled, feeling the warmth of his presence. His strength. His unwavering certainty.
For so long, she had fought alone. Pushing away everyone, believing that no one could ever truly stand by her.
But now…
Nathan was here.
“You don’t have to feel lonely either,” he murmured against her ear. “I’ll be there with you. Let’s raise our daughter together. Like a family.”
Khillea’s breath hitched.
A family.
A real family.
Tears welled in her eyes as her hands hesitantly rose.
And then, for the first time in what felt like forever—she let herself believe.
Her fingers clutched onto Nathan’s back as she hugged him in return, her hold light at first, but then—tighter.
She wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
Nathan chuckled softly.
“Do you want Patroclus to see us fighting? He’s already seen us naked and fucking—this would be the last straw for him.”
Khillea blinked.
Then, unexpectedly, a laugh escaped her lips.
It was soft—shaky—but real.
She smiled against his shoulder, hugging him even closer.
Nathan let her.
Finally, she accepted him.
Finally, she chose to live.
And that choice alone—that one thought—was enough to shatter the fate she had once believed was unchangeable.
But just as the warmth of their embrace settled—
A sharp, searing pain tore through Nathan’s back.
His body jerked. A cold sensation spread through his spine.
Khillea’s eyes widened.
Something was wrong.
She felt it—the tension in his muscles, the sharp hitch in his breath.
Her hands trembled as she reached behind him.
And then—warmth.
Blood.
Her fingers came away soaked in crimson.
Her heart stopped.
She looked up.
And then—
She saw him.
Paris stood before them, his sword dripping with Nathan’s blood.
A twisted, deranged smirk stretched across his face.
He had stabbed Nathan’s back from behind taking both of them off guard.