The moment Kent tore apart the demon prince, the mountaintop underwent a stunning transformation. The ritual fire flared with golden brilliance, sending radiant beams into the night sky. The air itself seemed to hum with divine energy as golden flowers began to rain from the heavens, their petals swirling like blessings from another divine place.
Drums and flutes echoed from above, a melody so otherworldly that it silenced the battlefield. The remaining demons, already fleeing in terror, stumbled and fell as the golden light bathed the mountain.
“Behold!” cried Sage Paras, his voice breaking with emotion. He fell to his knees and began kowtowing with fervent devotion. “Oh mighty God of Order, show your kindness and bless us with your divine grace!”
Above the ritual fire, a radiant figure emerged, cloaked in an aura so bright that none could gaze upon him directly. The God of Order, seventh among the old gods, stood tall and serene, his very presence exuding authority and harmony.
The demons screamed in terror, scattering like leaves in the wind. They knew their failure to protect the demon prince would bring the wrath of the Demon Emperor, but the appearance of the God of Order sealed their fate. To face a god was to face certain doom.
The radiant deity surveyed the mountaintop with a solemn expression before his gaze rested on Sage Paras. His voice, calm yet thunderous, resonated across the peak.
“Paras,” the god intoned, “your devotion and perseverance have been rewarded. By conducting this sacred ritual, you have restored balance to the world under my domain.”
Paras, trembling, pressed his forehead to the ground. “Oh great God of Order, your words humble us. Thank you for your mercy and blessings.”
The god extended his luminous hands, and from the radiant light emerged a golden pot, shimmering with divine energy. He handed it to Paras, who received it with reverent hands.
“This pot contains the Yaga essence and life energy. Use it wisely, for it will sustain the order of this world,” the god declared.
Paras bowed repeatedly, tears streaming down his face. “We are eternally grateful, oh divine one.”
The God of Order gave a single nod before turning back toward the ritual fire. With a flash of light, his form dissolved, leaving only the echoes of his presence behind.
As the sages celebrated the successful completion of the ritual, Kent was far from calm. His golden lion form, drenched in blood, was a storm of rage and sorrow. Ignoring the departing demons’ cries, he tore into their ranks like a lion hunting a herd of deer, his claws ripping through flesh and bone without hesitation.
Jabil and Ruby remained stationed around the mountaintop, their faces reflecting a mix of awe and fear at Kent’s unrelenting fury.
Ignira, standing at the edge of the battlefield, watched with conflicted eyes. Her instinct to avoid involvement with the demon prince’s death warred with an inexplicable urge to stay.
“I should leave now,” she murmured to herself, glancing at the sages. “If the Demon Emperor comes, I want no part in this.”
But her gaze kept drifting back to Kent, who was cutting down the last remnants of the demon horde. His movements were a blur of speed and ferocity, yet there was something almost poetic in the precision of his strikes.
The sages, however, did not share her fascination. They whispered among themselves, their earlier relief turning to dread as they watched Kent’s rampage.
“He’s gone mad with grief,” one sage muttered, clutching his robes. “What if he turns on us once the demons are gone?”
“Look at his form,” another whispered, trembling. “He’s no longer just a human—he’s become something else entirely.”
As if their fears were manifesting, Kent turned his glowing eyes toward a demon elder who had stumbled and fallen. With a guttural roar, he pounced, his claws slicing through the elder’s chest as if it were paper.
The sages recoiled, but before they could voice their protests, the ritual fire erupted once more, blazing with a light so intense that it blinded all present.
The blinding brilliance forced everyone to shield their eyes. When the light dimmed, a figure emerged from the fire.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as they realised the presence. The Goddess of Life, fourth among the old gods and a being who had not graced the spirit world in centuries.
Her radiant form was wrapped in an ethereal glow, her flowing hair cascading like rivers of light. She held a massive golden pot in her hands, double the size of the one given to Paras.
Sage Paras, who had barely regained his composure, fell to his knees again, his mouth wide open in shock. “Oh, mighty Goddess of Life! You honor us with your presence! Please, bless our souls and grant us your divine gift!”
But the goddess ignored his pleas. Her serene smile remained fixed as she turned her gaze away from the sages and toward the battlefield. The pot of Yaga energy gleamed in her hands, its brilliance dwarfing even the ritual fire.
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Second sage Kumba, still kneeling, watched in confusion as the goddess began to float away from the mountaintop. “Mighty goddess, where are you going?” he cried. “The Yaga energy is for us, is it not?”
But her attention was focused elsewhere. The sages followed her gaze and gasped as they realized her destination.
Kent, still in his lion form, was in the midst of ripping apart another demon elder. His claws tore through the elder’s flesh with ruthless efficiency, and his glowing eyes burned with rage. The blood of countless demons stained his fur, and the golden brilliance of his divine form made him look both majestic and terrifying.
The goddess floated toward him, her calm demeanor unshaken by the chaos around her. Her radiant presence drew the attention of everyone on the battlefield, including Ignira, who stared in disbelief.
“Is she… going to him?” Ignira muttered, her voice trembling.
The goddess stopped a few feet from Kent, who froze mid-strike, his claws poised to deliver another killing blow. For a moment, the two locked eyes—the wrathful protector and the serene deity.
Without a word, the goddess lifted the massive golden pot and poured it over Kent’s head. The Yaga energy poured out in a luminous stream, enveloping him in a cocoon of golden light.
Kent roared in defiance, the sound echoing across the mountaintop. But as the light seeped into his form, his rage began to calm down. His lion’s mane receded, his claws dulled, and his glowing eyes softened. Slowly, his beastly form faded, revealing the man beneath.
Kent blinked, his golden aura now subdued. His mind, once clouded by grief and fury, was suddenly clear. He turned his gaze to the goddess, his breathing heavy but steady.
Her calm smile never wavered as she reached out and touched his cheek.
Ignira, watching from a distance, felt her heart skip a beat. For the first time, she saw Kent’s true face—handsome, noble, and filled with a quiet strength that sent tremors through her chest.
“Who… is he?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
But there was no time for answers. The goddess and Kent continued to lock eyes, their silent exchange carrying a weight that no words could convey.
The battlefield around them faded into insignificance as the divine light bathed them both.