The sun was climbing higher, its golden light painting the broken valley where Raizel had awoken. The echoes of silence wrapped around him, and only the restless wind dared to whisper through the jagged cliffs. His figure, cloaked in shadows, carried no trace of mercy.
Each step he took sent a faint tremor through the earth, as though the land itself rejected his return. The God Slayer in his grip gleamed faintly, its edges sharp enough to divide the air. His expression did not shift—stone-cold, carved from wrath and vengeance.
Raizel's crimson eyes narrowed toward the horizon. Beyond the valley lay Mercuri, a bustling city of mortals. He could already sense the faint resonance of prayers—murmurs carried skyward to the false gods who had abandoned him.
Crimson's lapdogs still rule here, he thought. Their temples breathe lies. Their priests fatten on blind faith. And yet, I am the one condemned.
His jaw tightened. Rage simmered, but he did not allow it to explode. Vengeance required patience. Every cut must be deliberate. Every slaughter must send a message.
The Arrival at Mercuri
By the time Raizel approached Mercuri, the city's gates loomed tall, carved with sigils of divine protection. Mortals bustled in and out, merchants shouting their trades, guards polishing their spears beneath the banners of the Crimson Faith.
The moment Raizel passed the threshold, whispers broke out.
"Who is that man…?"
"His aura… it feels like a storm pressing on my chest."
"No ordinary traveler carries such a blade."
The God Slayer drew eyes like a beacon, though none dared approach. Raizel ignored them. His gaze traced upward—toward the massive cathedral at the city's center. The bell tower scraped the heavens, and from within came the rhythmic chanting of priests.
His lips curved into a humorless smirk.
I see… even here, their poison spreads.
The Priest's Warning
It did not take long before the clergy noticed the anomaly. That evening, as the last light died, a group of white-robed priests gathered within the cathedral. Their leader, High Priest Veylon, furrowed his brows as he listened to reports.
"A man… cloaked in shadow, carrying a blade none could ignore. The air itself bends around him," one priest said, trembling.
Veylon's hands tightened around his staff. "This presence… it reeks of forbidden divinity. Perhaps a heretic, or worse—one touched by the exiled god himself."
He turned to his followers. "Summon the Crimson Sentinel. If this wanderer dares defy the Faith, we shall offer his head to the altar."
The First Clash
Night fell. Mercuri's streets grew quiet, torches flickering against cobblestone paths. Raizel stood at the edge of the city plaza, his gaze fixed on the cathedral.
He felt it before he saw it—the distortion in the air, the ripple of divine essence. From the shadows emerged a towering figure armored in scarlet steel, a spear of searing light in hand.
The Crimson Sentinel, a minor god tasked with guarding the Faith's holy grounds. His eyes glowed like molten gold, voice booming across the plaza.
"Mortal," the Sentinel thundered. "You walk with the scent of blasphemy. Kneel before the Crimson Lord's mercy, or be erased."
Raizel's grip tightened on the God Slayer. His voice was calm, yet each word cut sharper than steel.
"I bow to no false god. You call me blasphemy? Then I shall show you what a forsaken god truly is."
The Sentinel roared, lunging forward, spear blazing with divine fire. The ground cracked beneath his step, cobblestones shattering as power radiated outward.
Raizel moved not with haste, but precision. One step forward—stone groaned beneath his weight. His blade swung in a smooth arc, intercepting the spear. Sparks erupted, illuminating the night with violent light.
The plaza shook. Mortals screamed, fleeing into alleyways, their cries drowned by the clash of steel and divinity.
Awakening of the Forsaken
The Sentinel pressed forward, divine fire wreathing his body. "You are nothing, cast out and abandoned! Die as the worm you are!"
Raizel's eyes glowed crimson, his voice dropping to a whisper that silenced the chaos.
"I was abandoned… yes. And for that, I shall devour gods like you, one by one."
Power surged through him. The God Slayer pulsed, as though awakening to its master's fury. With a single motion, Raizel twisted his blade, redirecting the spear's force. The Sentinel staggered—only for Raizel to step inside his guard.
The blade descended.
A shockwave exploded across the plaza. The Sentinel's armor split, crimson cracks spreading across his divine shell. He let out a guttural roar, light pouring from the wounds like molten veins.
Raizel did not stop. His strikes came methodically, each swing calculated. With every cut, the Sentinel's divinity waned, his form flickering.
The final strike cleaved through his chest. Light burst forth, scattering into the night like dying stars. The once-proud guardian crumbled, his spear dissolving into ash.
Silence fell.
Raizel stood alone, his blade dripping not with blood, but with fading divine essence. His breath was steady, his eyes unblinking.
The First Harvest
As the Sentinel's essence collapsed, fragments of power coiled toward Raizel, drawn as if by hunger. They seeped into his veins, igniting his core. His aura expanded—darker, heavier, unstoppable.
A new strength awakened within him. He felt his wounds seal, his body hardening beyond mortal limits. The taste of divinity lingered on his tongue, sharp and intoxicating.
So this was it—the harvest of gods. Their deaths would not be meaningless. Each fallen deity would feed his rise.
Raizel tilted his head back, gazing at the cathedral.
"Crimson," he muttered, his voice low yet carried by the wind. "This is only the beginning. Your empire of lies will drown in silence… one corpse at a time."
The mortals who witnessed the scene hid, trembling. They did not know whether to fear or worship the man who had slain a god in the heart of Mercuri.
But whispers had already begun.
"A heretic… no, a nightmare."
"The gods are not untouchable… he killed one."
"Who is he? What is he?"
Raizel sheathed his blade across his shoulder. His crimson eyes gleamed in the dark.
He walked forward, leaving the shattered plaza behind. His journey had only just begun, but the first step had been taken—the blood of a god spilled, his vengeance awakened.
The night of Mercuri would never be the same.
[To be Continued...]