CHAPTER 264: CHAPTER 263 - FLIRTING WITH ANOTHER GODDESS?

As Ivelia kept her silence, Raven stood at the edge of the dais like a man deciding whether or not to pet a tiger.

Oh, and that tiger just happened to be a glowing goddess surrounded by an aura of divine dread disguised as moonlight.

The problem was that she still hadn’t said yes to the whole getting-closer thing.

So, he took a breath and decided that it was time to make his move.

"You know..." He said casually, with the tone of a man talking about the weather, "I’ve never actually seen a goddess up close before. Would it be alright if I...?"

He trailed off, lifting a hand halfway, gesturing vaguely toward Ivelia’s slumbering, radiant form on the altar.

There was a pause, long enough that Raven wondered if he’d overplayed it.

Then Ivelia’s voice echoed from the walls, serene and watchful. "Why?"

Raven offered a slow shrug, like none of this mattered, like he wasn’t currently calculating the trajectory of a decapitation swing in the back of his mind. "Curiosity? Reverence? Maybe a touch of romantic awe?"

"Romantic awe?" She repeated, amused.

"Don’t tell me you’ve never had a mortal fall for you," he said with a wink. "Seems like it’d happen hourly."

A beat of silence. Then, the faintest musical chuckle rippled through the chamber. "Many have. Most didn’t live long."

"Brutal," Raven said, grinning. "But fair."

She went quiet again.

Then, she said, "You may approach. But do not forget who I am."

Raven took a step forward—just one. "Of course not. You’re a goddess. The mighty Ivelia. Your power dwarfs mine. I’m just a guy with a sword."

He let that hang.

Then, with just enough mischievous skepticism in his voice to spark a divine nerve, he added, "Even if I had my blade out, I doubt I could do anything to you."

Inside his mind, Omni groaned. "You’re baitin’ her ego, huh? That’s cold. I like it."

There was the briefest hesitation before Ivelia responded, and when she did, her voice was touched with a haughty calm. "You may hold your sword, Raven Von Vaise. I do not fear mortal steel."

Raven smirked. ’Hook, line, and goddess-sized pride.’

"Thanks," he said, keeping Omni tight in his hand while the sword gleamed with black light. "Appreciate the trust."

"It’s not about trust," she replied. "I simply know you can’t harm me."

Omni chuckled. "Ohhh, she’s gonna regret that."

Raven moved closer—slow, respectful, as if approaching a sleeping lioness in a wedding dress.

Ivelia’s form was still motionless on the stone, eyes closed, her silver hair fanned like moonlight across the slab. But her awareness was everywhere.

She was watching him without watching him.

So, Raven did what any spy-assassin-prince in mortal peril would do:

He flirted.

"You know," he said, gazing down at her, "for someone who claims to embody sorrow, you’ve got this whole ’divine beauty’ thing on lock."

"I am what they pray for," she said as if stating a fact. "Comfort. Presence. Strength in grief."

"Right," he said, nodding slowly. "But also—killer cheekbones."

Omni muttered, "Bro. You really out here trying to rizz a goddess while planning to cut her neck off?"

’Shut up. It’s working.’

"Tell me something," Raven went on, sitting at the edge of the altar now like a man getting comfortable. "Do you dream? When you’re like this?"

There was a pause.

"Sometimes," Ivelia answered. "Of things long gone. Lost followers. Fallen cities. Moments that were prayed into me. I dream about how my followers must have suffered under the hands of the black dragon."

"Damn, bro," Omni muttered in his head. "How she talkin’ like she handin’ out blessings but got that ’I poison puppies for fun’ energy? Like, girl, pick a lane! You divine or you diabolical?"

’It’s actually good,’ Raven shrugged inwardly. ’Because every time she does that, I feel like I’m not doing wrong by trying to manipulate her.’

He then leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand, sword still lazily in the other, commenting. "That’s sad."

"It’s who I am."

"That’s all you are?" He asked softly. "Just a graveyard of prayers?"

Another pause.

"...You’re a strange man, Raven."

"Yeah," he said, smiling faintly. "As I said before, I get that a lot."

They sat in quiet for a few heartbeats—divine and mortal, silence and strategy.

Then, with a theatrical sigh, Raven dematerialized Omni, letting the sword vanish into the glowing tattoo on his forearm.

Ivelia’s voice, like silk on water, curled through the air.

"Why did you put it away?" She asked. "Are you afraid you might hurt me?"

Raven paused, just enough to make it feel real, then sighed again, more dramatically this time. "Yeah. I am."

There was a sudden shift in the air—a sharpness.

"You insult me," she said quietly. "Because I have shown you patience?"

It was clear that she was offended, but Raven didn’t flinch.

He gave another weary sigh—as if this whole situation exhausted him emotionally.

"No," he said gently. "Because I care."

Silence.

"I’m worried I might hurt you," he continued, voice softer now, a touch of regret bleeding into his words. "And I don’t want that for the goddess I’m going to serve."

Omni whispered, "Bro. You’re killing her with kindness. This is some high-level gaslight flirt stabbery."

Raven, on the other hand, carefully watched Ivelia’s body.

Her brows twitched.

The unconscious face of a god... frowning.

She was thinking, doubting, and probably weighing pride and perception.

Then, at last, her voice returned, colder and clearer than before.

"Strike me."

Raven blinked.

"...What?"

"I give you permission," she said. "Use your sword or whatever you want. I was your strongest attack. Aim to kill, if you truly believe you can. Let us see how much power you think I’ve lost."

Raven’s breath hitched.

On the outside?

Shocked. Hesitating. Almost horrified.

On the inside?

Grinning like a devil in a cathedral.

Omni hooted, "YOOOOOO! She did not just say that!"

Raven inhaled slowly. He needed to sell this.

"Are you sure?" He asked, voice low and hesitant. "I mean... if I go all out—"

"I am a god," Ivelia replied. "Strike me and you’ll see where my confidence comes from."

Raven nodded slowly, his fingers flexing once.

Inside his head?

’Okay. This is it.’

He stood, his eyes fixed on the goddess, his mind calculating trajectory, angle, velocity, and pressure points.

This was his chance.

His only chance.

After a long silence, Raven exhaled through his nose, loosening his shoulders as he took one more step forward.

He held Omni in one hand, the black blade humming low like a sleeping beast about to stir.

"Well, if I’m doing this anyway," he muttered, cocking his head, "might as well give it my best shot."

Ivelia’s voice answered like falling snow. "Naturally."

He glanced at the ethereal glow of her skin, her regal posture even in slumber. "So... where do I strike? You’re just lying there like a sleeping beauty with apocalyptic power. Feels kinda rude to start poking."

"You may attack where you wish,"

she said. "Your instincts will tell you."

"That’s dangerous advice," Raven muttered under his breath. "I have very stabby instincts thanks to a certain girl in my life."

He moved to her side, then circled slowly to her head. Her long, moon-silver hair pooled like liquid starlight over the stone. His eyes narrowed slightly.

’Neck,’ he thought. ’Clean cut. Instantaneous, if it works. No hesitation.’

He raised Omni.

The blade shimmered with subtle light, its surface catching the glow of the divine altar.

Raven tightened his grip, the black metal whispering in his hand.

Omni’s voice buzzed in his mind. "Well, this is poetic. The guy with the sarcasm problem is standing over the goddess with a sword of annihilation. Classic setup. I’m ready when you are, boss."

Raven smirked faintly, but his fingers twitched.

He stared at her face, calm and composed, framed by a divine light that somehow made her look tragically peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Then—

"Why are you holding back?"

The voice echoed through the cavern again. Calm. Curious.

Raven blinked. "Huh?"

"You are hesitating," Ivelia said, a note of amused disapproval in her tone. "You were going to attack me. You had your moment. Why didn’t you take it?"

"I was warming up," Raven replied flatly, squinting at the ceiling as if annoyed the goddess was reading his soul. "You don’t just jump into assassination. That’s bad form."

With a casual flick of his wrist, black fire burst from his sword—slow at first, then all-consuming. It wasn’t an ordinary flame. They twisted and shimmered like tendrils of void, bending the air around them as if reality were protesting.

Destruction.

Raw, whispered entropy.

The power coiled around Omni like a living serpent, flickering and pulsing with every breath Raven took.

Ivelia went silent for a moment.

Then, softly, she murmured in awe, "I knew you held something dangerous. But I did not expect... this."

Her voice dropped to a hush.

"With that alone... You are more perilous than the black dragon of the past."

Raven arched a brow, then flashed a cocky smile—part mask, part real. "Aw, stop. You’re gonna make me blush."

Inside? He was sweating bullets.

He wondered what would happen if he, by mistake, hit the altar she was lying on.

Wouldn’t that be the Dumbest Fail Ever?

"You are like a child with a meteor spell," Ivalia, however, snorted at his words, her tone dry. "Even with power in your hands, you have yet to wield it with mastery. Swing your toy, Raven Von Vaise. Let us see if you know how to use it."

Raven let out a quiet, nervous chuckle. "Wow. Rude."

But the flame on Omni surged in response, casting long shadows over his face, which had settled into a focused calm.

He bent his knees slightly, sword angled back over his shoulder.

"Alright," he said, softly, almost like a promise.

"Here I come."

Then it all went down.