The sky cracked like fragile glass above the Holy Capital of Seraphium.
Masaru stood at the edge of the ruined coliseum, his cloak fluttering in the wind like a banner of death. The once-golden banners of the Creator's Temple now lay torn across the bloodstained steps, remnants of the battle that had shaken the continent. His hand was still warm from the final blow he had dealt to Archangel Thariel, whose wings now smoldered on the stone below. But there was no satisfaction in his eyes—only a growing silence, and a storm behind it.
Adolpha, the demonic wolf, stood beside him with a low growl vibrating in her throat. "They'll come soon. The others. You've drawn too much attention."
Masaru didn't answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the temple that loomed in the distance—the one place he hadn't yet dared to breach. The gates to the Realm of the Creator lay within, sealed behind divine scripts and countless guardian seals. "Let them come," he murmured, his voice like steel dragged across frost. "The more they send, the clearer the path becomes."
"Your body is weakening," said a voice behind him.
He didn't turn. "Himari, I told you not to follow me."
The light mage stepped forward anyway, her blonde hair now streaked with ash and divine burn marks. Her staff trembled faintly in her hand, as if even it were unsure of this alliance. "You told me not to follow your path. But I never agreed to leave you alone. Masaru… your aura is changing. You're not just channeling death magic anymore."
"I consumed Thariel's core," he admitted. "His essence. And some of his divinity."
Himari's heart thudded in her chest. "You're merging with them. Every time you destroy one of the Creator's Chosen, you take part of what made them divine. You're becoming—"
"Something else," he finished for her. "Something beyond death."
A sudden explosion tore through the eastern tower of the temple walls. The shockwave rolled across the field like a tidal wave, sending debris and shattered stone flying. From the smoke emerged three silhouettes—divine knights, cloaked in golden light, their blades humming with anti-demonic energy.
"They didn't wait long," Adolpha muttered, crouching into a ready stance.
"No," Masaru said, raising his hand. A black scythe of pure energy formed within it, crackling with Thariel's lingering divinity and Masaru's own death mana. "They never do. The Creator's lapdogs always rush when they smell her fear."
The leading knight stepped forward, visor gleaming. "Masaru Izuku," he announced, his voice echoing like a church bell. "You are charged with high heresy, the murder of archangels, and the corruption of divine law. By the will of the Creator, we—"
Masaru moved before he could finish.
The scythe swept horizontally, cutting through the stone like it was paper. One of the knights blocked the blow, but the sheer force sent him flying. The second conjured a protective dome, only to have it implode under the pressure of Masaru's presence. The third knight attempted to flank him—until Adolpha leapt, her jaws tearing through steel like meat.
Within seconds, the battlefield became a whirlpool of magic, screams, and divine explosions.
Himari raised a barrier to protect the wounded from the crossfire. "Masaru, stop! If you use more of that power, your body—"
"It's not my body that matters!" he roared back, slashing down with fury that caused the ground to tremble. "I will reach him. I will make the Creator pay for what he did to me. To all of us!"
Blood sprayed the stones as the last of the knights fell. Masaru stood in the aftermath, breathing heavily, his eyes glowing with violet and gold—signs of the divine fusion already corrupting his soul. His veins pulsed black. His heart beat like a war drum.
Adolpha padded toward him, her fur slick with divine blood. "You're close. I can smell it. The final seal… it's inside the temple, isn't it?"
Masaru nodded. "Once I break it, I'll walk into his realm. And I'll finish what I started the day I died in that false holy war."
"You'll die," Himari whispered, stepping forward again, her eyes filled with pain. "Masaru, you'll become something even worse than him. You'll lose the last part of who you were."
Masaru turned slowly toward her. The wind caught his cloak, whipping it aside to reveal his cracked armor, glowing with runes from both heaven and hell. "I already lost who I was the moment I reincarnated. I am not the Hero of Light anymore. I am Death. And Death never forgets."
She took a shaky breath. "Then let me come with you. If you really must walk into the jaws of a god, let someone stand beside you."
He looked at her for a long moment. "Even if I become the thing you swore to destroy?"
She smiled sadly. "Then I'll destroy you myself."
A strange laugh left Masaru's lips. Not cruel. Not bitter. Just tired. "Very well. But if you waver, even once—"
"I won't," she said. "Because I believe there's still a soul in you worth saving."
The clouds above them parted for a moment, revealing a crack in the sky—a literal fissure, glowing with chaotic divine energy. It was the Creator's final barrier. The heavens were no longer calm. The gods were afraid.
Masaru looked up at it, narrowing his eyes. "So it begins. The final war."
"Will you really be ready?" Himari asked.
He turned toward the temple gates, his scythe resting on his shoulder, blood dripping from its edge. "I was born ready. Twice."
And with that, the three of them—Death, the Light, and the Beast—walked forward into the jaws of godhood, ready to end the very system that had forged them.
The world around Masaru seemed to dissolve into silence, the echoes of Adolpha's growls and Kazuki's cry swallowed by the bloodstained wind. Standing before the twisted body of the corrupted demigod, Masaru's expression was unreadable, a strange calm overlaying the storm within. Kazuki's power had ruptured reality for a moment—an unnatural tear in the air remained like a scar, pulsing and shrinking.
Adolpha limped toward Masaru, her flank bleeding but eyes proud. "You didn't falter," she said with a painful grin, her voice rough with exhaustion. "Not even before a fallen god."
Masaru reached out and gently touched her bloodied fur. "Neither did you." His tone was soft but firm, filled with something unspoken—regret, resolve, and the first tinge of grief.
Behind them, the battlefield was littered with remains of divine beasts and summoned monsters, their corpses smoking, fading into divine dust. A flicker of blue light erupted in the distance. The air shifted.
A slow clapping echoed from the blackened horizon.
Masaru's eyes narrowed.
From the thinning mist emerged a figure robed in gold and white, untouched by the carnage. His presence was unnatural—not heavy, but eerily absent of any warmth or reality, like a shadow pretending to be a man.
"Bravo," said the man, his voice calm, amused. "You've killed my pet demigod."
Adolpha growled, staggering to place herself between Masaru and the newcomer. "Who are you?"
Masaru didn't need her to ask. He already knew.
"You're late, Creator," he said coldly.
The man laughed, as if pleasantly surprised. "You recognize me even without the divine glow? I'm honored. Most mortals would weep or kneel."
Masaru stepped forward, ignoring the pain rippling through his body. "I don't kneel to monsters who play gods."
The Creator tilted his head. "Monster? Harsh. I gave you life, death, and now purpose. You should be thanking me."
"You gave me pain. Betrayal. And then you watched as your champions tore everything from me," Masaru replied, fists clenching. The markings across his arms shimmered with dark energy.
Adolpha was bristling. "Why now? Why show yourself?"
The Creator's smile faded into something more calculating. "Because the time is right. Masaru's rebirth was a gamble. A design flaw. I allowed it to play out to see if my system could correct it. But it didn't."
Masaru took another step forward, now face to face with the being who had orchestrated so many lives and deaths. "So you're here to erase me?"
"No," the Creator said, eyes glinting. "I'm here to offer you a choice."
Masaru blinked. Adolpha snarled. "A choice? What trick is this?"
"You are powerful, Masaru. More than I predicted. Even now, your soul resists divine rewriting. You could kill me. Possibly. But then what? The system falls. Reality shatters. Every soul in every realm perishes. Are you ready to bear that?"
Masaru's heartbeat thundered in his ears. He didn't trust a word. But he couldn't ignore the fragments of truth.
"And your offer?"
"Join me," the Creator said. "Ascend. Become my equal. Rewrite this world, not destroy it. Take revenge not as a broken tool, but as a god."
For a long moment, Masaru didn't speak. Adolpha was trembling beside him, uncertain.
Memories flashed—Himari's smile, Adolpha's loyalty, his parents' betrayal, the first time he died.
"If I become a god," Masaru said, his voice low, "do I lose who I am?"
The Creator didn't answer. That was answer enough.
Masaru lifted his hand, the corrupted sigils glowing red-black. "Then I choose vengeance. Not power."
A surge of shadow and flame erupted from his palm. The Creator's form twisted, absorbing the blast with a flick of his wrist. But a faint line of red cut across his cheek. His smile vanished.
"So be it," the Creator said darkly.
Lightning cracked the sky. The earth trembled.
Masaru turned to Adolpha. "Can you stand?"
She nodded, limping but fierce. "Until the end."
He stepped forward. "Then let's end this."
The final war had begun.