CHAPTER 120: SEEING STARS

Dante rushed forward.

The storm still raged around them, snow and shards of ice spiraling in furious gales, but his eyes never wavered from the man standing at its center.

He really didn’t care whether his brother hated him right now, or whether the rest of the squad, or even Ellie herself, looked on with fear and disgust.

None of it mattered.

All he wanted — what his soul screamed for was to kill the young man in front of him.

Azel.

The name itself was poison to him.

If he could cut that body in half, if he could silence that infuriating grin forever, then the goddess would finally see.

She would turn her eyes toward him as she was meant to.

After making sure Azel was dead, the goddess would pick him without hesitation.

That was the only future Dante would allow.

But then —

The world turned white.

Literally, and figuratively.

Azel’s stance shifted, subtle yet monumental.

He planted his foot forward, sword tilting slightly in his grip, his body sinking lower into a position Dante had never seen before.

It wasn’t a defensive posture, nor was it an opening strike.

It was... something else.

Something otherworldly if he could put it in words.

For a heartbeat, Azel didn’t even look like he could move.

His chest rose and fell, calm, his crimson eyes burning with aura.

He stood as though he had already left this world behind.

Dante sneered and tried to close the gap, ready to carve him apart —

And then he realized.

He couldn’t move.

Or rather — he was moving, his body screaming forward, but what he saw was so fast that his muscles, his nerves, even his thoughts could not keep up.

Azel’s frame blurred, slipping in and out of sight.

No — he wasn’t disappearing.

He was accelerating.

Golden radiance began to flow from Azel’s blade, at first in faint streaks, then in cascading arcs that carved across the storm.

They weren’t just sparks — they were stars.

Stars that danced.

Yes... these were stars, Dante realized with horror.

When you looked at the night sky long enough, you could sometimes glimpse them moving ever so slightly, an illusion of distance and brilliance.

But here, in this frozen battlefield, there was no illusion.

The stars moved, danced, sang with radiance.

And Azel moved with them.

His steps flowed like constellations drawn in motion.

Each arc of his sword was a line of light across the void.

It was mesmerizing — hypnotic even. Dante’s eyes widened despite himself, drawn in like prey caught in a dream.

The young man he wanted so desperately to kill was no longer a man at all.

Dante’s breath hitched.

His grip trembled.

He tried to force his body forward, to break through the paralysis, but he was frozen in place... he couldn’t keep up.

And then — Azel was gone.

No.

Rather he was already there.

The distance between them vanished.

The stars stopped dancing.

Time itself held its breath.

Everything beautiful shattered into red.

Dante’s vision twisted.

His throat seized. His body screamed in silence.

He could no longer feel his legs — because they weren’t there.

His gaze dropped, disbelieving, to where his lower half had once been.

The strike had carved through him cleanly, precisely, mercilessly.

The place where the blade had passed burned black, as if starlight itself had scorched his very flesh.

And then — time returned.

The pain hit all at once, raw and absolute.

His scream tore through the storm, but it was cut short as blood filled his throat.

His body collapsed to the ground, what remained of it writhing in the snow.

His last sight was the figure behind him.

Azel who was standing still, his sword lowered, his body steady.

And then Dante saw no more.

...

Azel exhaled.

His vision wavered.

The goddess’s blade slipped from his grasp, clattering against the ground.

A copper taste filled his mouth, then red poured out, hot and relentless, trailing from his lips.

His chest convulsed.

Almost instantly his muscles ruptured.

Agony screamed through him like fire searing his nerves.

He collapsed.

His body slammed onto the frozen ground, the world above spinning in and out of focus.

The ceiling blurred.

The storm muffled.

His breath caught halfway, his throat closing like it wanted to strangle him from inside.

He couldn’t even cry out.

[Hubby!]

[Esteemed Husband]

"Azel!"

The voice cut through everything and it was trembling.

Edna.

She teleported to his side in a blink, kneeling as the frost hissed beneath her boots.

She lifted his head gently, cradling it onto her lap, not caring in the slightest that blood drenched her gown, that it stained her skin.

Her crimson eyes blazed, wide with fear and fury.

"Hey, darling, are you okay?" Her voice cracked as she spoke.

But they both knew the truth.

He was not okay at all.

Then — light.

A gentle glow descended, wrapping his torn body in warmth.

The rents in his flesh began to knit themselves closed, veins reweaving, skin smoothing.

The blood flow slowed, then stopped entirely.

Even the metallic tang on his lips faded.

[Congratulations, Esteemed Husband. You performed the Star Strike — even if it was lacking by a lot.]

Azel coughed, his throat burning as air rushed back into his lungs.

Slowly, with effort, he pushed himself upright.

’Fuck, my body hurts,’ he thought, grimacing.

Every tendon screamed at once.

Every muscle felt like it had been shredded, then crudely stitched back together.

His arms trembled violently, barely obeying.

His throat felt raw, like sandpaper dragged across fire.

’I guess the hero wasn’t really human after all...’

[He was human,] Kyone’s voice sneered. [Just a really annoying masochistic human.]

Azel managed the ghost of a grin.

Edna’s arms circled him tightly, her warmth fierce against the cold.

She buried her face against his shoulder for a moment, then pulled back, eyes glossy.

"Hey... are you feeling better?" she asked, her voice low, her gaze never leaving his face.

"Yeah," Azel rasped.

He forced his eyes to flick toward the battlefield.

Dante’s body — or what remained of it lay divided in two, smoke curling from the severed flesh where the strike had burned deep.

A corpse.

Nothing more. "I was just... testing out something."

The words left him with deliberate nonchalance, but the taste of blood in his mouth betrayed him.

Anya stood above the corpse, her twin blades clutched so tightly her knuckles had gone white.

Her entire frame shook, hatred bloomed in her eyes and then...

She brought her blade down in a brilliant arc, beheading him at once.

[Author’s Note]

Phew this battle was fun to write.

Anyway I’ll be refurbishing the other arts in place, I’ve done for Azel and Edna so I’ll redo the rest when I wake up later.