Chapter 41: Sacrifice
The vines hit Baal like a wall of living smoke. Purple tendrils exploded from Liliana’s outstretched hands, wrapping his arms, his legs, his throat.
The corruption sank into his skin at once, black gold regeneration fighting it every second.
Cracks in the grape-sized bubble on her palm pulsed in time with every surge of her power, feeding her more strength while draining his.
"Hahahaha!!!"
Baal’s laughter turned into strained gasps as bones cracked under the pressure. They healed, but slower than before.
He dropped to one knee, one hand still braced against the ground.
"Witch, you can’t win against me, just face it. I already know the truth."
The black-gold veins under his skin flared brighter, then dimmed again as the vines tightened.
"Bull crap!" Liliana’s voice cut through the smoke. "You should be begging by now. Begging for your life, like usual, coming to some deal."
"Hahahahah!" Baal laughed even more.
"Still giggling, are we?"
Baal forced another breath past the constriction at his throat. "I was... just thinking how my immortal sensei would laugh if he saw this."
The vines squeezed harder. Something in his left shoulder gave with a wet snap.
Across the ruined floor, the silenced child opened his eyes, watching Baal getting squeezed. His eyes were wide, fixed on the struggle. For a moment he thought, if he died, he would be free. Free from all his torture, from his insanity.
But Mom... Dad...
His deal with him: they would live, according to his deal.
He did not shout and he did not hesitate. His small body cut straight into the storm of purple smoke as if the vines recognized something in him and flinched. They hesitated for half a second, just long enough.
The child slammed both palms against Baal’s chest.
Golden light erupted from the contact point. It was pure, unfiltered, and it burned.
Liliana’s vines recoiled as if the light itself was poison. The pressure on Baal’s body simply vanished. His regeneration stabilized in an instant.
The child collapsed forward into Baal’s arms. Blood already poured from his nose and the corners of his eyes. The light that had saved Baal had cost him everything.
Baal looked down at the dying boy. For the first time since he had left the darkness, his grin softened into something almost gentle.
"Well done, little one," he said quietly. "You really are goddamn loyal."
The child managed one last smile.
"My mom... my dad."
"Oh, I lied, sorry kid. I can’t bring them back." He replied.
There was shock in his eyes and then right after, his body went still.
Liliana stared, vines still raised but no longer advancing. "Why are you smiling? He just died for you."
Baal pushed the small body to the ground as he rose to his full height.
"Because he bought me one question," Baal answered. He locked eyes with Liliana. "That bubble on your palm... it’s not just a prison anymore, is it?
You’re breathing through him. You’re using the sleeping body of my sensei as your battery.
You burned too much of your own immortality sealing him, and now you’re... mortal. Just a witch with a very expensive life-support system."
Liliana’s expression froze for a fraction of a second, long enough.
The grape-sized bubble flared in protest. The cracks in it widened.
Baal laughed again, seeing her reaction, louder this time, genuine and vicious.
"Sensei really does pick interesting enemies."
Liliana’s remaining power surged. Rage and desperation mixed in equal measure.
Somewhere behind the line of survivors, Cheering still held the third key. He looked from the expanding bubble to Baal, then to the people still standing.
The decision sat heavy in his chest: attack now, or protect the key and whatever remained of the group.
Baal did not look back at him. His eyes stayed fixed on Liliana.
"Your move, witch."
****
Claude opened his eyes to a sky the color of polished bronze.
No sun and no stars. Just an endless soft glow that never changed.
He lay on black grass that felt warm under his palms. In the distance, floating islands of white stone drifted slowly through the air, silent and unhurried.
Uriel sat beside him in her true form, six wings of pale fire folded tightly against her back, armor gleaming with a light that did not come from any sun.
She looked older somehow, tired in a way angels rarely allowed themselves to show.
Claude sat up fast. "Where... what is this?"
"A dream, the edge of the Second World," Uriel answered. "The place where the sealed gods once walked freely. You were never meant to stay on the First World after the memories returned."
Claude’s expression hardened. "I don’t want this. I don’t want any of it..."
Uriel did not argue. She simply placed a hand over his heart. Golden light, the same shade that had once belonged to Amon, flared under her palm for a moment, then faded.
"You really carry a piece of him," she said quietly.
"A shadow imprint left centuries ago. When Liliana forced your memories open, she also woke the part of you that belongs to Amon’s line of disciples.
There is another one waiting for you here. Someone who has been asleep almost as long as Amon himself. If you refuse, the imprint will keep eating at your mind until nothing human remains."
Claude looked away, jaw clenched. The bronze sky reflected in his eyes.
Uriel’s voice softened. "I failed my mission and I was exiled. But I was never ordered to protect you.
I chose that myself. Because the Creator once told me the second breath must never be completely alone..."
A long silence stretched between them. The floating islands continued their slow drift.
Claude finally stood. His hands were shaking, but his voice came out steady.
"Fine. I’ll go. He may be a shitty master. But in the end, he is my own."
Uriel rose with him but did not smile; instead, something in her posture eased.
Claude turned to her one last time. The words came out quieter than he expected.
"Goodbye... mother."
Uriel’s wings trembled once. She did not correct him. She only nodded, then opened a path of pale fire that led deeper into the floating islands of the Second World, showing him what he needed to see.
"Ha!"
Claude opened his eyes, looking around, searching for her, but she wasn’t there anymore.
He walked through every room, but she wasn’t there anymore, only her warm presence lingering.
His memories were still there, but they didn’t feel heavy anymore. The numbness that had plagued him was fleeing away.
"Thank you," he said. He should have said it to her personally, but that day would come, surely. But not now.
Flap! Flap!
He heard wings flapping. Claude quickly ran to the sound, to the bedroom where he had been sleeping. But she wasn’t there...
A voice came from the window as someone entered. "Hey there... you must be one of my brothers."
Another disciple, Claude thought.
****
To the legendary pirates sailing the seven websites...
Yes, you.
I know you’re out there reading this book on some mysterious site with seventeen pop-up ads, three fake download buttons, and a comment section that somehow started a war over pineapples on pizza.
First of all... I’m impressed you found it.
Second... my wallet is crying.
Every Chapter you read outside NovelPhoenix is another tiny lightning bolt hitting my bank account. Somewhere in the distance, Zeus himself shakes his head and says, "My son deserves better."
If you’re enjoying the story, consider visiting the official NovelPhoenix version every once in a while. Even if you don’t unlock every Chapter, dropping a Power Stone, Golden Ticket, Gift, or Vote helps far more than you might think. Those little buttons actually tell the algorithm, "Hey, people like this crazy story."
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You are the real MVPs.
Thank you for supporting the novel the proper way. Every Power Stone, Golden Ticket, Gift, comment, review, and Chapter unlock keeps this story alive and motivates me to write even more insane fights, bigger plot twists, and enough divine lightning to make Zeus file a copyright claim.
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I can’t stop you.
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Now enough talking.
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