Smoke coiled in the air, a thick and choking miasma that blanketed the battlefield. The once-pristine wasteland now resembled a scorched ruin of celestial fury—a land torn asunder by the dance of gods. Jagged chasms split the earth like wounds, rivers of molten mana flowing beneath the cracked terrain. Craters—some the size of cities—smoldered in every direction. The sky, once painted in the colors , had dimmed into a dusky shade of ruin, bleeding ash and energy with every passing moment.
And in the heart of the destruction stood Naoko Rotschy.
Her breath came in harsh, shallow gasps, silver eyes glazed yet calculating as they traced the silhouette of the woman across from her. Her once-majestic black battle coat hung in tatters, its sleeves torn away, its lining scorched. The white lining of her inner wear was burned off at the shoulders and chest, revealing her pale, powerful abdomen and the sculpted lines of muscle that rippled beneath her soft, unmarred skin. Her chest was partially exposed, her tattered undergarment barely clinging to her. One pant leg was sliced open, revealing her toned and gleaming thigh streaked with dust and mana-burns. Her silver hair clung to her face and back in sweat-drenched strands, glinting like moonlight in the fire-glow.
She leaned on her black sword—Nihil—its ominous edge humming with bloodlust. Her body was regenerating rapidly thanks to the steady stream of green lunar mana she channeled from the Moon of Healing, but even its divine potency couldn't stave off the creeping fatigue in her mind and spirit. Lunar mana healed the flesh, not the soul. And her soul, though unyielding, was battered.
Across from her, the radiant figure of Ebernio, the Goddess of Destruction, walked with slow, casual steps. Her golden hair flowed like molten sunlight, untouched by the storm around them. Her crimson eyes glowed with wicked amusement, and her porcelain skin shimmered beneath her tattered crimson-and-black robes. Unlike Naoko, she seemed barely winded—no more than a dancer catching her breath between movements.
"Well," Ebernio said, her voice as smooth as flowing magma, "that was quite the little storm you conjured, half-goddess."
Naoko didn't answer. Her silver gaze remained distant, unflinching. Internally, she thought: She's strong. I knew this, but even with all the moons' power, I need... more.
Ebernio stopped a few feet away, hands on her hips. Her smile widened. "You're impressive. Even in this state—exposed, trembling, panting—you're still glaring at me like a queen above judgment. I like that."
Naoko remained motionless, her expression unreadable. Then she whispered, cold and detached, "Say what you came to say."
Ebernio chuckled, her voice deep and rich. "Very well, little monarch. I have a proposal."
Naoko raised an eyebrow, her tone flat. "A proposal ?"
"Yes." Ebernio stepped closer, her crimson eyes narrowing with both respect and mischief. "You've entertained me. Genuinely. Not many can claim to have pushed me this far in battle. But... I think we're nearing a threshold. If we continue, the world itself might fracture. And that would be—" she paused, looking up at the ruined heavens, "—inconvenient."
Naoko's sword shifted slightly in the rubble as she leaned heavier on it. "So?"
Ebernio folded her arms and tilted her head playfully. "So, I offer you what you seek. I will give you my core—my Essence of Destruction. All the destructive power of my divinity."
Naoko blinked slowly. Her voice remained devoid of warmth. "You mean to surrender?"
Ebernio laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, no. Not surrender. I will not kneel. My consciousness, my awareness, will remain. I will not become your servant. But I will become your weapon."
A long silence followed. Naoko stared at her, the flames of devastation crackling around them.
Ebernio continued, lifting a hand and gesturing toward the jagged silhouette of her obsidian fortress—Delzeguide, the Castle of Ruin—rising far behind her like a cursed spire. "Within that castle, I will implant my essence using a Tri-Dimensional Seal—a construct of triple-weaved divine runes. My spirit and body will merge with the foundation of Delzeguide. Meanwhile, you... you will use the Black Moon's mana to forge a form—your form. Shape my essence into a weapon. A blade, a staff, a crown—it's your choice. My core shall be the heart of your new weapon of destruction."
Naoko's eyes narrowed. "You'll remain... conscious?"
Ebernio nodded, grinning. "Indeed. I'll be watching you, darling. Whispering when needed. Laughing when you hesitate. You will wield me, but I shall witness your rise. Is that not the perfect partnership?"
Naoko was silent again. The wind howled through the dead craters, and the sky above trembled from residual energy. Finally, Naoko spoke:
"Fine."
Ebernio's grin broadened like a sun breaking through clouds. She stepped forward and extended her hand. "Wonderful, my little empress. Show me how far you'll ascend."
Naoko stared at the hand for a moment. Her own, pale and bruised, slowly rose and clasped Ebernio's.
The instant their fingers met, a pulse of crimson-black mana surged into the skies, splitting the clouds apart. The earth shook as a pact was formed—not of surrender, but of shared ambition, of mutual respect twisted in the flames of carnage.
Ebernio looked into Naoko's empty silver eyes and whispered, "Let us remake this world."
And Naoko, for the first time in the entire battle, let a faint, cold smirk touch her lips.
---------
Heat: I think this is the best option, and the reason is that the God of Destruction is strong. It wouldn't make sense for Naoko, a half-god who is only 18 years old, to kill him.