Against The True Gods-Chapter 148: Me, Myself, and I(III)—Grim

Failure felt every fiber of his body tear in half, felt every shard of his bones tear into his flesh, and felt the eerie cold flow of his golden blood soaking his robes.

He was torn in half, from the waist to the shoulder, but even as life faded from his eyes, for the faintest of moments, his True Will gathered. With the last embers of power burning in his heart, his arm moved and cut the air.

WHOOOSH!

Caine didn’t even know what had happened, but all he could feel was pain. Looking down at his chest, he saw a gash torn across his frame, so deep his heart pulsed visibly through the wound.

The wound ached; his blood fell in rivers, and Caine could feel Failure’s True Will deeply entrenched in the wound, preventing it from healing and slowly spreading through him.

Like a plague, it gnawed at his flesh and spread through his blood, invading all aspects of his body.

Caine fell to his knees just as both halves of Failure’s body hit the ground, lifeless.

But Caine didn’t stay down for long. His gaze burned with an unquenchable fire as he used his spear for support, forcing himself to stand.

He gazed at Failure’s body, his lifeless eyes still looking up at him.

He was dead. Truly.

Caine’s gaze turned to the distance, where Mirror and Oldest stood, already healed thanks to Failure’s spell, which still lingered despite his death.

’It won’t heal…’

The wound on his chest continued to bleed.

No matter what he tried, it wouldn’t close, and though his vitality was terrifying, he wasn’t immortal yet.

If he lost enough blood, he would die.

So, his hands moved.

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Threads of time qi wove through the injury, forcefully pulling it together, while Caine’s nails dug into his own chest, using his own blood as ink to draw a formation upon himself.

[Blight Art: Bloody Cycle]

The wound on his chest didn’t heal in the slightest, but it now remained closed, tightly bound by the endless threads of forming qi, which continued to suture his flesh.

The blood that still managed to seep out flowed into the formation on Caine’s chest and back into his bloodstream, effectively solving the problem for now.

The pain pulsed through Caine incessantly, his hands trembling and his heart chaotically pounding under the strain. Even for someone as accustomed to suffering as him, Failure’s True Will was far too much.

But he stood, his gaze unwavering as it landed on Mirror and Oldest, full of malice.

Like a predator gazing upon prey, like a god gazing down upon mortals.

Throughout this entire battle, he hadn’t used his True Will at all to prove a point, and it would remain that way.

BANG!

Before Oldest and Mirror could react, Caine was upon them, but this time, his blade wasn’t in his hands. It swam around him like a fish in water, harmonizing with his every movement.

A deathly dance began.

Oldest and Mirror were entirely outmatched, but through their quasi-immortality, they managed to survive.

Caine’s fists flowed with the smoothness of a river, his legs struck with the ferocity of a roaring dragon, and he moved with the agility of a soaring phoenix.

Like a loyal companion, his spear swam around him, complementing each of his strikes. A punch was followed by a cleave, a kick by a thrust, and a roundhouse by a slice—a harmony of man and weapon.

Oldest and Mirror’s blood covered Caine entirely, yet he seemed indifferent. The light of wrathful madness in his gaze only grew, exploding forward and clashing against the walls of his hearts.

Even as the wounds on his frame accumulated and the pain from Failure’s attack intensified, he advanced, using the pain as a reminder, as fuel.

His claws tore their flesh, his hands shattered their bones, and his fangs ripped veins away from them in a display of primal, brutal dominance.

An inhuman roar escaped Caine’s lips, shaking the platform below and echoing like the bellow of a primordial terror.

RUMBLE!

Oldest and Mirror stood side by side, broken and trembling, suppressed and shattered, but they stood.

Their gazes, nearly empty and teetering on the edge of life and death, landed on the demonic figure before them.

If they were to die, they would do it with pride.

Oldest stood upright, the trembling of his body ceasing entirely. His nine rings appeared behind him, rapidly spinning to devour atmospheric qi that then flowed into the halo above his head to heal him.

Mirror did the same. Feathery white wings tore out of his back, spreading wide across the air.

Their power soared, reaching unseen heights, their auras blending into a wave of silver and gold that clashed against the crimson sea of aura surrounding Caine.

And yet, it was pointless.

Caine looked at them. They rushed toward him, roaring and unleashing their power in one final, desperate attempt.

Seeing them rush toward assured death left Caine bitter, his gaze full of pity.

Being forced to kill himself three times over, in the most brutal of ways, was twisted—and yet, so fitting for Fate’s sense of humor.

It was pointless. Oh-so pointless.

WHOOOOOSH!

Caine took a step forward, and all the qi in the surroundings dissipated, leaving a void of energy on the battlefield.

His hand reached out, his metallic claws tapping the air.

The halos above Mirror and Oldest shattered in a scintillating rain of glowing stars. Yet, they continued to charge forward, uncaring of the assured death that lay before them.

Caine’s outstretched palm swung across the air.

There was no ripple, no fluctuation, yet the two fell to their knees, clutching their throats as blood gushed from wounds that tore across them.

Caine looked down, meeting their widened gazes.

"How pathetically weak we all are, hm?"

Their heads exploded in a mangled mess of brain matter, flesh, bone, and blood. Their bodies fell flat, lifeless.

Silence. That was all there was—silence.

From the skies above, rain began to fall, pouring torrentially.

Caine looked skyward, the rain flowing down his face and mingling with the blood coating his body, forming rivers of what looked like bloody tears.

[Conquer The Fracture of Time and Fate (⅚)]

"Fate, come."

The world shook, and the rain intensified.

[Conquer The—Error! Error!]

Caine grabbed his spear, which had been floating around him.

His gaze landed on Uriel, still hidden in the dark clouds above.

[The End Has Come—Submit to the Eye Above All (?/?)]

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RUMBLE!