The very first spell Zelos cast was directed at his father. A pale light washed over Kratos' battered body, knitting wounds closed and erasing the damage left by Baldur's relentless blows. Kratos straightened, his body visibly recovering in moments.
The change was not lost on Baldur, who narrowed his eyes. The sensation of watching another heal almost mirrored the curse that bound him.
"You don't have the monopoly on healing," Zelos said evenly. With a sharp gesture, he enchanted his spell with infinity, layering it so that it would automatically trigger every time Kratos suffered harm. "I can keep this up for eternity."
Baldur's smile faded slightly, and he turned his focus to Zelos. Seeing only a young sorcerer, he thought to exploit weakness—Zelos looked like the least threatening of the three. He lunged at him with reckless confidence.
But Zelos was ready. A glowing magic circle flared into existence before him, shimmering like the arcane shields of Doctor Strange, intercepting Baldur's strike.
The impact cracked across its surface, but the barrier held firm. In the same instant, Kratos swung his Leviathan Axe, catching Baldur across the side and driving him back several steps.
It still did nothing. Baldur shook off the blow, his face smug and unchanging. "No matter what tricks you use, I won't be beaten by the likes of you. Don't you get it? I can't feel any of this." He laughed, seizing the cold from the axe's magic and hurling it outward in a wave of ice.
The blast never landed. Zelos created a vacuum with a flick of his hand, swallowing the icy explosion into nothingness.
"Hmm. So, you're immune to damage—physical and magical alike?" Zelos asked aloud, tilting his head. He suddenly lunged forward and kicked Baldur across the jaw. The impact knocked Baldur backward, more from surprise than pain.
"You're Baldur, aren't you?" Zelos continued calmly, stepping to Kratos' side. His father moved subtly between them, instinctively shielding him despite Zelos' power. Baldur, however, was already back on his feet, his smile widening.
"Glad to see my reputation has spread, even here in the woods. But it makes no difference."
"They say you're untouchable," Zelos replied. "Immune to all harm, mortal or divine. That makes you the perfect target practice."
He snapped his fingers, and the air shimmered. Dozens of clones appeared around them, each one forming glowing whips of magic.
In unison, they lashed out at Baldur, not to hurt him, but to bind him. The glowing coils wrapped around his limbs, slowing his movements.
Kratos wasted no time, striking hard with the axe while Baldur was restrained. At the same time, Zelos' true self conjured a massive spell circle above, one that glowed with the condensed runes of his Zoltrakk spell.
Bolts of destructive energy rained down, marking Baldur with faint sigils that locked onto him like beacons.
Baldur snarled, breaking free of the restraints with a violent surge of strength, but Kratos was already upon him. Axe swings and shield strikes kept him occupied while Zelos' spells pounded at him from every direction. The air shimmered with hundreds of blasts per second, forcing Baldur to fight under relentless pressure.
"ENOUGH!" Baldur roared, slamming his fists outward in a burst of raw force. Kratos blocked with his shield, absorbing the brunt, and used the momentum to pivot behind Baldur. With a twist of skill, Kratos forced him to stand exposed.
"Ray of Disintegration!" Zelos shouted, his voice clear over the chaos.
From the massive circle above, a searing beam of light erupted, pure and destructive. Kratos leapt clear at the last second. The beam carved through Baldur, cutting him clean in half, and continued through the mountain behind him, splitting stone and snow in an earth-shaking explosion.
When the dust settled, Baldur's upper half twitched on the ground, staring at Zelos in shock. For the first time in centuries, his body had been damaged in a way his curse did not immediately erase.
"Don't worry," Zelos said calmly, approaching as his eyes studied the wound. "Your spell is still working. But here, so you don't bother us right away."
He extended his hand, casting time magic over the torn flesh. The flow of healing slowed a millionfold, freezing the regeneration mid-process. Baldur would still never die, never truly feel, but his body would take an eternity to recover.
"Bye, Son of Odin." Zelos flicked his wrist. A surge of wind magic wrapped around Baldur's half-regenerating body and hurled him skyward, flinging him far into the distance. One of Zelos' eagles immediately followed to keep track of him.
Zelos exhaled, lowering his hand. Kratos was already watching him, his expression heavy with thought.
"How did you know who he was?" Kratos asked.
"Mother," Zelos answered simply.
They turned back toward the cabin together.
"Will he return?" Kratos asked after a moment.
"Yes," Zelos said bluntly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
As father and son walked back toward the cabin, their eyes were drawn to the aftermath of the battle. Entire sections of the forest had been uprooted or scorched, trees split apart, and the ground itself torn and shattered. For Kratos, the sight struck deeper than mere destruction—it was the forest he had walked through countless times with Faye, the quiet place where they had shared years of peace. Now, much of it looked ruined, a battlefield scarred by violence.
"Repair," Zelos muttered. As he walked, faint circles of magic spiraled outward from his steps, releasing waves of restoration. Splintered bark reformed into living wood, toppled trees stitched themselves upright, and the earth sealed its cracks as if time itself was being rewound. Slowly, the forest began to return to what it had been, untouched and whole.
Kratos observed the process. "How far has your magic come?" he asked at last. His tone carried no judgment—only the weight of genuine curiosity. He had long lost the ability to measure Zelos' strength and could no longer tell where his limits lay.
Zelos did not hesitate. "I believe that if I willed it, I could kill you, Father." His voice was calm, stripped of arrogance. It was not a boast, not a challenge—simply a fact spoken with absolute certainty.
Kratos regarded him with a knowing gaze. He could recognize empty pride when he heard it, but Zelos' words were not laced with pride. They were true, plain, and unshaken.
For a long moment, Kratos said nothing more, silently accepting the reality of his son's statement.
By the time they reached the cabin, the forest around them looked untouched by conflict. Zelos deactivated the shimmering cube of protection he had cast earlier, and the illusion fell away to reveal Atreus waiting near the door.
The boy looked anxious, his face carrying the strain of everything he had witnessed and overheard.
The three of them resumed their preparations in silence. Atreus busied himself by checking their supplies, though his nervous glances toward Kratos and Zelos betrayed his worry.
Zelos, on the other hand, had already stored what he needed inside his personal space, pulling out small items only when necessary.
After nearly ten minutes, Kratos finally spoke, his voice low and steady. "Are you both ready?"
Atreus straightened and nodded quickly. Zelos gave a single nod of agreement as well.
"Then we go," Kratos said. With no more words, the three of them stepped out together, beginning their journey to fulfill Faye's final wish—to spread her ashes from the highest peak across all the realms.