Beyond the carriage, the rhythmic clatter of armored boots striking the earth resonated, soon accompanied by a commanding voice.
"Halt!"
The Captain of the Guard, a woman clad in silver celestial armor, advanced as her troops tightened their encirclement. "State your business and identity immediately."
The carriage door slowly opened.
Libinea emerged first. She neither hurried nor showed fear. She smoothed the folds of her robes with graceful movements, her gaze unwavering as she faced the steel blades pointed at her throat. Memories of her past rebellion, where she had once been surrounded by guards, flashed through her mind. Yet, unlike that time when she had obliterated her adversaries, this time she simply opened her fan with a snap, concealing the lower half of her face. Her eyes, however, sparkled with amusement.
"Oh my... have you forgotten me already?"
The atmosphere shifted instantly. The golden sun above the realm blazed with unnatural intensity, not due to the time of day, but as a response to the call of its daughter.
"W-what is th-this heat?"
A guard exclaimed, as his spear slipped from his hands. Smoke began to rise from their sacred armor. This metal, forged to withstand the attacks of demons, was now starting to crack. The Captain, possessing a higher level of cultivation, bore the brunt of it, but sweat poured down her face as she realized the origin of the disturbance. She directed her sword toward the robed woman.
"This is your last chance," the Captain shouted, resisting the urge to succumb to the overwhelming spiritual pressure. "Who are you?"
The guards' courage vanished the moment a second figure emerged from the carriage's shadows. A black boot struck the marble. The oppressive heat dissipated instantly, replaced by an icy chill that froze their bones.
"My Lord?!"
The Captain's eyes widened in horror. She dropped her sword, which clanged like a bell, and fell to her knees. Behind her, the squad followed suit, kneeling in unison.
"We... we greet Lord Raiking!" they exclaimed, their voices quivering.
Raiking paid them no heed, turning instead to the woman beside him. He placed a hand on Libinea's shoulder.
"That is enough."
Libinea scoffed, but she obeyed, cutting her connection to the sun. The ambient temperature plummeted back to normal, leaving the guards gasping for air.
"I apologize for the Phoenix Queen's behavior," Raiking said calmly. "This place does not hold.. fond memories for her."
The Phoenix Queen.
The Captain's breath caught. The pieces fit together instantly: the fire, the arrogance, and the whispers of the God of Death's companion. They had just brandished weapons at a fugitive of the heavens, yet with Raiking present, the Phoenix's past transgressions were rendered inconsequential.
"You may rise," Raiking commanded.
The guards scrambled to their feet, keeping their heads bowed, afraid to meet their gaze.
"Have you returned to stay, My Lord?" the Captain asked, her voice trembling.
"Just passing by," Raiking answered, already moving past the checkpoint.
Libinea walked beside him, her head held high. As they proceeded through the towering Holy Gates toward the capital, she did not glance back at the guards who had once pursued her. They were now beneath her notice.
---
[Fourteen Hours Later]
As they journeyed from one floating island to another, Libinea was struck by the veneration Raiking received. Each island featured a shrine, and within every shrine were two statues side by side: Raiking and the Goddess of Creation. Immortals gathered in large numbers, meditating amidst clouds of incense, offering prayers not only to Life but also to Death.
The sight prompted her to realize that she had never truly inquired about Raiking's origins. The only clue she had was a hazy memory from a millennium ago—a Divine General kneeling in the dust before him.
"What is your exact status within the Divine Realm?" Libinea inquired, watching a gathering of elders pay homage to his stone effigy. "Being the God of Death, isn't it expected that the Demon Clan would revere you? Yet, we have no demons among us."
"The Divine Realm is a distinctive place, Little Phoenix. Those who have endured since the Great Age understand that this is not just a planet; it is our everlasting garden."
The response did not come from Raiking. The voice was a gentle, otherworldly femininity. Libinea spun around, shocked that anyone could bypass her senses, but when she saw the source, the intrusion made perfect sense.
A woman woven from pure starlight stood behind Raiking, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.
"I am sorry about Maryal," the Goddess of Creation whispered in his ear.
Raiking's hand shot up to grab her wrist, but he stopped millimeters from her skin. His usual calm shattered, replaced by a cold, simmering rage that Libinea had never witnessed, not even in the Void.
"Did you know?" Raiking asked.
The question was simple, but the accusation was profound.
"...You know the answer to that," the Goddess replied.
She dissolved instantly, transforming into a stream of blinding white light that shot toward the horizon.
Raiking did not hesitate. He abandoned his physical form, becoming a streak of absolute darkness that tore through the sky in pursuit.
"Wait!"
Libinea ignited herself, becoming a trail of crimson flames as she attempted to follow, but the gap in power was insurmountable. She was a bird trying to catch a lightning bolt.
The two primordial forces soared through the islands, weaving through temple spires and shattering the tranquility of the realm.
"Is that the Goddess of Light and the God of Death?!"
"They are finally together again?!"
"Quick! Alert the High Elders!"
"Look at the sky!"
The celestial dance of Yin and Yang ascended to the capital city, weaving through street after street until they arrived at the majestic sacred palace located at the city's heart. They spiraled around the towering structure like a whirlwind of spirits before finally re-materializing into their humanoid forms high above the capital. This extraordinary spectacle prompted the immortals below to flood into the main street, gazing upward in awe at a sight they had never imagined they would see.
Raiking looked at his wife, his eyes devoid of warmth.
"Why didn't you save her?" he demanded.
The Goddess floated opposite him, her expression filled with a sorrowful wisdom.
"For the same reason you chose not to protect her."
"She was your creation," Raiking stated, his voice vibrating through the clouds.
"A creation which you once told me you cared little for," the Goddess countered, her light pulsing rhythmically. "Why do you now mourn the fragility you so often condemn? Is it because she died, or because she died without your permission?"
---
[Libinea's Perspective]
By the time Libinea arrived in the capital city, she had already assumed her humanoid form. Among the countless immortals thronging the streets, she stood still, gazing up at the celestial confrontation between the Goddess of Creation and the God of Death.
Though their words were faint due to the distance, the spiritual tension was palpable. Raiking was visibly enraged.
Yet, that anger seemed misplaced.
Libinea pondered, recalling how he had refused to confront the Goddess to save an entire race of Phoenixes.
He is pragmatic, she reflected, composed. While Maryal held a special place for him, does she justify disrupting the cosmic balance in such a public display?
She observed Raiking intensifying his aura, capturing the attention of every guard, general, and scholar in the city, all eyes drawn skyward.
"None of this aligns with his usual demeanor..."
A sudden understanding dawned on her, hitting like a physical impact. This wasn't about revenge or a reunion; it was a retrieval mission.
The Celestial Cow.
Though Raiking never openly admits his feelings for the Goddess, his gaze betrays his heart, and judging by her earlier affection, she must still harbor feelings for him as well. Raiking is not one to act impulsively, especially when it involves protecting those he cherishes. The logical conclusion is that he must be provoking her intentionally.
It's a diversion.
Libinea glanced at the crowd around her. The Paladixtus, the Sect Elders, even the Palace guards—all were transfixed by the epic struggle unfolding above.
You cunning strategist, she mused, a slight smile forming. You're holding the line so I can secure the milk.
Once the realization crystallized, she acted without delay. Avoiding the aerial confrontation, she ignited her spirit, transforming into a low-flying blaze that streaked through the alleyways. Her destination was not the palace, but the verdant, floating pastures on the city's outskirts.