Chapter 964 – The Prayer of Light
The night howled around the ruins of Saint's Gate.
The once-holy cathedral had been reduced to a carcass of stone and fire — walls peeled open like ribs, its altar now a crater of molten glass. Every breath of wind carried smoke, blood, and the iron taste of raw power.
Kael moved through the wreckage like a storm given form. His armor was cracked, his blade chipped, yet his strikes only grew heavier — faster — more deliberate. Chaos flared from his every motion, painting his silhouette in ribbons of crimson light.
Eiden staggered backward under the onslaught. His armor hung in tatters, divine light flickering weakly between the gaps. Each step left a trail of blood behind him. His golden sword trembled in his hands, no longer the weapon of a god's chosen — but of a man fighting to breathe.
Kael pressed the attack.
One strike split the marble beneath Eiden's feet. Another slammed into his shoulder, tearing through what remained of his armor and sending him reeling. The next hit disarmed him completely — his sword spinning across the ground and embedding itself in the shattered altar.
The hero fell to one knee.
Kael's shadow loomed over him, eyes burning like a pair of dying suns. The air between them was thick with tension — divine light and chaos flame pushing against one another in a violent standoff.
"Still standing," Kael said softly, his voice a rumble that cut through the distant thunder. "I'll give you that."
Eiden lifted his gaze, one eye swollen shut, blood matting his hair. "I… was chosen… for this," he rasped.
Kael tilted his head, the faintest hint of a smirk curling his lips. "Then your gods chose poorly."
He raised his blade. The crimson edge pulsed with unstable power, arcs of chaos lightning lashing outward and splitting the ground beneath him. Eiden flinched at the sight — but instead of reaching for his sword, he lowered his head.
And smiled.
Kael's brows furrowed.
"Why are you smiling?" he asked.
Eiden's answer came with a weak, bloody laugh. "Because… this isn't over."
Kael's instincts screamed a warning. He lunged — but too late.
Eiden slammed his hands together, bloodied fingers locking in a sigil Kael didn't recognize. Divine runes flared to life beneath the shattered floor, glowing with blinding gold.
"Hear me… O Light Eternal," the hero whispered, voice trembling yet resolute. "Your child calls to you."
Kael's blade stopped inches from his throat — repelled by a sudden explosion of radiant energy.
The entire cathedral was flooded in searing light, blinding in its purity. Every shadow vanished, every trace of chaos was forced back. Even Kael's own aura faltered for a moment as divine fire wrapped around Eiden's body like a cocoon.
The hero's wounds began to glow. His broken skin sealed. The light burned through the blood, through the pain, through the exhaustion.
"Grant me strength beyond flesh," Eiden intoned, his voice echoing strangely, layered with something vast and otherworldly. "Grant me your will, that I may strike down the wicked."
Kael braced himself, shielding his eyes from the brilliance. The sheer radiance made the air hum — every mote of dust frozen in suspended light.
Eiden's body began to lift from the ground, golden threads stretching from the heavens above to wrap around him.
Kael lowered his guard slowly, expression hardening. "You're calling on them directly…"
The hero's eyes snapped open — now pure white, blazing like twin suns.
"I call upon the Gods of the Old Light!" Eiden roared, his voice no longer entirely human. "Let your will descend through me!"
Kael's teeth clenched, chaos energy roiling off his body in waves of red flame. "So be it."
The world trembled.
The remnants of Saint's Gate glowed brighter and brighter, cracks of divine light crawling up the ruined spires like veins. Even the stars above seemed to dim in reverence — or fear.
Kael's expression darkened, eyes narrowing as his fingers tightened around his sword hilt.
Eiden's voice grew distant, layered with something ancient — something vast enough to make even Kael's daemon blood stir uneasily.
"Let this world remember the wrath of Heaven."
The prayer reached its final verse.
The golden light pulsed once — twice — then silence.
Kael stood amidst the ruin, blade at the ready, every muscle coiled.
And Eiden, floating above the shattered altar, began to glow brighter than the moon itself.
His prayer was complete.