Bloody Odyssey

In the depths of the crater, Dax stretched his arm outward, breathing in the heavy, blood-tainted air. His eyes remained sealed shut, completely detached from the surrounding devastation.

This is totally different from anything I've felt… Is this what worship feels like?

A profound, almost intoxicating warmth spread through him, stirring something deep in his soul.

"Ahh… divinity… the gods."

From the ground where he sat, hands of white figures stretched out from beneath the earth. They grasped his robe and arms gently, kneeling in reverent positions around him, their forms glowing with ethereal light.

What is this? Dax looked around him, recognizing the same figures he had faced while confronting Ryker. A flicker of surprise crossed his mind.

This is very different.

Dax closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the sensation.

A gentle song echoed from the crater, spreading across the city still shrouded in dread. The soothing voice wrapped around every grieving heart like a soft embrace, easing pain and bringing unexpected comfort.

"What is this…?" The hooded figure stood frozen, lost in the melody alone. Just then, a brilliant surge of light burst from the crater, forming a radiant cloud that lit up the entire city in a warm, hopeful glow.

It dragged the attention of the grieving inhabitants. "Heavens…" An old man holding his crying grandchild looked up at the sky, tears streaming down his wrinkled face.

Is this all we are? He picked up the little girl, embracing her tightly, his heart heavy with despair. Is death the only way for us?

The expressions of others mirrored his — a mix of exhaustion, grief, and faint, flickering hope in the face of overwhelming loss.

Alfonzo was marvelled by the sight, his mouth slightly open in awe.

Unknown to the two figures, Kakarai was already back in his human form, bowing deeply with his head sunk low to the ground in silent reverence. When did he…? The sudden appearance shocked both Alfonzo and the hooded figure deeply, leaving them stunned and speechless.

Above in the sky, Madeka and Nadia floated gently, watching the city with calm eyes.

But Nadia couldn't hide her shock. Beneath her breath, she whispered, "Divinity… This doesn't make sense?"

She watched closely. Light attribute at that. Her eyes narrowed in confusion. But he can't even use magic. Nadia was completely lost, her mind racing with questions.

Madeka's lips parted into the most beautiful smile. "Angel Code 66… He's casting angel magic over the city. How daring, darling. You continue to offend the heavens." Her voice carried a mix of affection and quiet concern. "Is your path going to be the same in this life? Is that what you really want?"

In the cool body of water, Maya lay lifelessly, barely breathing. Around her, her loyal guards watched her die with deep bitterness in their hearts.

Just then, Byako turned, covering his face with a weird painted mask, hands gripping his blades tightly.

"Byako." Elia held onto Byako's trembling hands firmly.

"Where do you think you are going to?" Her voice was like ice, piercing deep into him.

"Let me go, Ghost Blade. It's all because of those white-haired freaks. They caused all of this." He broke free angrily.

Just then, from the corner of their eyes, they saw multiple figures of light form meters above Maya.

"Get away from her!" Byako moved to attack the figures of light but was kicked back with impossible speed. Just when he was about to stand, he felt two feet land on his wrist, pinning him down.

"Elia!" He screamed at Elia, who was now standing like a feather on his wrist, blade pointed to his face.

"Byako, be calm. I sense no evil from those beings. Instead, they feel oddly familiar. They might be able to help."

In the water, Maya saw two images before her.

"Mother… Father…" Her voice was weak, but that did not stop her from crying. "I'm dying, Papa. Please let me follow you."

A voice escaped the lips of the white figure as he shook his head gently. "My little parrot, this is not the end for you." He spoke like he was seeing his child for the first time, full of love and warmth.

"Don't give up while you are doing so well. We have been watching, baby." Her mother spoke softly.

"We are watching. You are becoming a fine ocean." They both smiled tenderly and scattered into light that floated into her body before she could even think.

She wanted to hug them at least once.

—-

The sky had changed.

One by one, the people of the city looked above themselves—and saw them. Figures of light, soft and radiant, hovering above the ruins. Their forms were indistinct at first, little more than glowing silhouettes against the darkened sky.

Then recognition dawned.

Mother.

Brother.

My little girl.

It didn't take long for the people to realize what was happening. These light figures were the images of their loved ones. The ones they had lost. The ones they had buried. The ones they had wept for in the dark of night.

Tears welled up—even on the faces of those hardened by this night of terror. Old men wept like children. Mothers reached toward the sky with trembling hands. Children called out names they had not spoken in years.

And to those unconscious and injured, warmth spread through their bodies like a gentle tide.

Healing.

In this sorrowful reunion, the injured men and women of the city began to mend. Those who had lost limbs noticed growth—slow, impossible, but real. Pain faded from shattered bones. Wounds knitted themselves closed. Eyes that had been blinded by dust and blood could see again.

---

Deep in the rubble, a little child's glowing hand stretched upward—as if reaching for something only she could see. Then, suddenly, the small figure turned to sparks of light, passing through the debris like morning mist.

Her gaze carried immense happiness.

Papa!

She hugged the figure of a battered man whose eyes fluttered open. His face was caked in blood. His arm was twisted at an unnatural angle. But he was alive.

"Theo, be fast! I saw traces of Sir Ever Sword." Footsteps filled the surrounding ruins. "He should be somewhere around here. We must find our captain."

In the rubble, the man laid.

"My little flower…" His voice was ghastly, barely a whisper—but it was heard.

"Everyone! I heard a voice! Please, help me dig out this rubble!"

Many men gathered, lifting the blocks with desperate speed. It didn't take long before they saw him—entrapped in a white dome that pulsed softly, glowing with the same light that now covered the city.

"Captain!"

They tried to reach him but were utterly blocked off by the dome. Yet that did not prevent them from seeing what was happening inside.

The dome was healing him.

They looked toward the pillar of light surging from the crater, their faces a mixture of awe, confusion, and desperate hope.

"What is really happening? Could it be the Church of Light?"

Many folded their fists in prayer, praying to the unknown. Praying to whatever force had sent this miracle.

---

At this moment, Dax felt dizzy.

The energy flowing from—and into—him was overwhelming. His head was a spiral of sensations, of voices, of prayers that he could somehow hear.

[+100 Mana.]

[+100 Mana x4.]

What?

Dax looked below his abdomen as if looking directly into his core. Another one was being filled up—a new core, forming from the divinity pouring through him.

Guided by the divinity of the White King.

He smiled, even as the divinity left his body at insane speed. The light was his. The healing was his. The hope was his.

What a strange feeling.

He looked up at the sky, at the figures still appearing, at the faces of the dead comforting the living.

This is what it feels like to be worshipped.

His smile widened.

I could get used to this.