In this world, countless gods existed, and each could bless their followers as they pleased. Yet a single god could elevate only one person at a time as their champion. Having more than one champion capable of wielding such immense divine power was strictly forbidden, as it would disrupt the world's delicate balance.
Right in the middle of his execution, Areth was raised to become the champion of the Moon Goddess, one of the most powerful of the benevolent deities. For a hundred years she had chosen no champion, and the common belief was that she had withdrawn entirely from mortal affairs. No one had expected this.
Areth beat his wings in the air. The silver rings in his eyes glowed with an otherworldly light. He gripped the sword in his right hand, slicing the air with it, then turned his gaze downward toward the humans staring up at him in terror. Slowly, without haste, he descended. On the ground, his brother watched him with pure dread.
The moment Areth's feet touched the stone floor of the hall, the entire chamber trembled. Moonlight mixed with the silver dust cascading from the tips of his wings, spreading across the ground like a shroud of death. The silver rings in his eyes did more than glow; they spun, consuming everything they touched. Every glance was a verdict.
Caelum was crawling on his knees. His trousers were soaked with his own urine. He clawed at the stones, but his fingers kept slipping.
"Brother… Areth… please… I was only… scared! It was all Rolan's idea! I was just following orders!"
Areth said nothing. He simply looked at him. Amelum trembled faintly in his grip. The frozen tears sealed within the blade were now boiling.
He took one step.
Caelum scrambled backward until his spine slammed into a pillar. "No… no no no! You were good man! You were always good!"
Areth smiled. It was a smile that the old Areth could never have produced: cold, empty and divine.
"Being good… is over."
Amelum spun once through the air. Then it severed Caelum's right arm at the elbow. The limb traced a bloody arc before hitting the floor. Caelum's scream tore through the hall. Areth swung again. The left leg was sheared off at the knee. Caelum collapsed into a spreading lake of blood, thrashing helplessly.
Areth leaned over him. He pressed the tip of the blade slowly against Caelum's chest… and pushed.
Amelum slid through flesh and bone with ease, splitting the heart in two. Runes along the blade ignited as it passed. Caelum's eyes bulged, and a wet, bloody gurgle escaped his throat. Areth twisted the sword. The heart shattered. Caelum's body convulsed one final time and went still.
Screams erupted throughout the hall.
Areth straightened. His wings beat once. The air in the chamber turned to ice.
His two remaining brothers were still there. The middle brother, Viktor, was sprinting toward the door. The youngest, Darius, clung to their mother's skirts, sobbing.
Areth chose Viktor first. He spread his wings and glided across the hall in an instant. Viktor never reached the door. Areth seized him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. Viktor's legs kicked uselessly in the air.
"Brother… please… I didn't do anything!"
"You did," Areth said coldly. "You stayed silent. You watched. You laughed."
With a single motion, Amelum ripped open Viktor's abdomen. His intestines spilled out in a hot, wet heap onto the floor. Viktor couldn't scream; only blood and bile poured from his mouth. Areth hurled him to the ground and drove the sword through his chest, twisting it once more. Viktor's body arched in one last spasm and fell silent.
Darius had hidden behind his mother. Duchess Elizabeth was shaking, her face deathly pale. Her husband had died only weeks ago, yet she had already been planning to share her bed with the rival duke. And now the son she had betrayed stood before her.
As Areth approached them, the same man who had hit him over the head and humiliated him earlier threw himself into his path. Areth stopped. The silver rings in his eyes turned to Sir Eddart, Commander of House Bunrean's Guard. The knight had drawn his sword with trembling hands and raised his shield, sweat and fear glistening on his face, yet his voice still tried to sound firm.
"Stand back! Even if you are the Goddess's champion, harming an archduke will have severe consequences!"
Areth did not speak. He simply smiled.
His wings folded slowly. Moonlight enveloped his body. He took one step. Eddart swung his sword. Areth didn't even raise his arm. The blade struck his chest and shattered against a shield of pure moonlight, sparks flying in every direction.
Eddart staggered back. "This… this is impossible…"
Areth was suddenly in front of him. He grabbed the shield with one hand and crumpled the steel like paper. Then he pressed down on the knight's shoulder. Eddart dropped to his knees. The stones beneath him cracked.
"You are nothing but an insect…" Areth whispered.
He raised his foot. It was no longer bare; it was woven from moonlight, veined with silver, radiating divine power. Eddart tried to lift his head, mouth opening to scream.
He was too late.
Areth brought his heel down squarely on the top of the man's skull.
CRAAAAACK!
The skull burst like an overripe melon. The forehead caved in first, then the temples exploded. Gray-pink brain matter sprayed outward in a thick, sticky mess, splattering the stone floor, the walls, and the silk gowns of nearby nobles. A piece stuck to Lysandra's cheek. She screamed and began to vomit.
Eddart's body remained kneeling, but his head… there was no head anymore. Only a crushed, gaping crater filled with blood and brains. Shards of white bone protruded from the ruin, slick with crimson. The corpse toppled forward. Blood gushed from the neck, forming a fresh pool on the floor.
Areth lifted his foot slowly. Crushed bone and brain clung to his heel. He shook it once. The pieces scattered.
Now he turned to Darius and Elizabeth.
Elizabeth stepped forward on trembling legs, her voice barely audible. "Areth… my son… please… he's only a child! It was my fault! Everything was my fault!"
Areth approached. "Yes. It was your fault."
He extended his hand. Moonlight coiled around Darius's wrists and lifted the boy into the air. His legs kicked helplessly. With his other hand, Areth raised Amelum and slowly, almost lovingly, drove the blade into his brother's stomach. In. Out. Getting deeper each time. Bloody foam bubbled from Darius's mouth. His intestines spilled while he was still alive. Areth twisted the sword, then dragged it upward. The sternum cracked open with a sickening sound. The heart burst free, still beating. Areth crushed it in his palm. Blood streamed between his fingers.
He dropped the corpse onto its own organs.
Elizabeth screamed and scrambled under a table. Her silk gown was stained with blood and filth. She clung to the table leg with shaking hands, whimpering, "Please… please…"
Areth decided to save her for last. His gaze now found Lysandra, his former fiancée. She was the woman who had once been promised to him, and had even shared his bed before becoming engaged to Caelum. She was cowering behind a pillar in the corner, face ashen, eyes swollen, lips quivering.
Areth glided toward her, wings beating gently.
"I see that arrogant expression of yours has finally disappeared, Lysandra…" he said softly, almost calmly.
Lysandra backed away until her spine hit the wall. "A-Areth… I… I had no choice… my mother… my father… they threatened me…"
Areth smiled. "No. There is always another way."
He reached out. Moonlight bound her wrists and pinned her to the wall. She struggled, but could not move. Areth leaned in until their faces were inches apart. Their lips nearly touched. Lysandra thought this was her last chance. After all, weren't all men the same? Champion or slave, no man could resist beauty.
"Maybe if I kiss him here now, I can save myself."
At least, that's what Lysandra believed until, a second later, she leaned forward to kiss him and their lips almost touched.
Areth slowly raised Amelum. The tip of the blade pressed against her left breast, directly over her heart. Then he pushed. Very slowly. Millimeter by millimeter. The girl screamed. The sword parted skin, sliced through flesh, cracked the rib.
Lysandra's heart continued to beat on the tip of the blade. Areth pushed deeper. The heart was pierced. Blood sprayed. She was still alive. Her eyes bulged, bloody foam dripping from her lips.
Areth drew his sword and plunged it into her heart again. Once. Twice. Lysandra's body convulsed violently. With one final shriek, she fell silent. He withdrew the blade. The heart clung to the tip for a moment, then slid off, fell to the floor, gave one last feeble beat, and stopped.
Lysandra's corpse remained pinned to the wall, eyes wide open, mouth twisted in horror.
Areth turned.
Only two people remained.
Duchess Elizabeth, the mother who had not waited for her husband's body to cool before conspiring with the rival duke to have her own son murdered, and her accomplice, Archduke Rolan.
As Areth walked slowly toward them, he wiped the blood from the sacred blade Amelum with the rags of his old clothes.
"As a wise man once said… the finest revenge is the one delivered swiftly."