Asher glanced at the distance between them and the border to the next god's domain.
They were close. But not close enough.
"Just long enough to get past them."
The Blood Cross moved first.
From the warship's hull, dozens of crimson chains erupted—snapping toward them like vipers.
Serena flipped backward, slicing through several chains with her daggers.
Asher extended his hand.
A wave of blood spikes shot out, piercing through the incoming chains—shattering them.
The enemy forces reacted immediately.
Several high-ranking priests leaped from the ship, their bodies wreathed in dark energy.
One of them, an SS-ranked executioner, pointed his blade at Asher.
"Your stolen strength won't save you," he spat.
Asher smirked. "Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about you."
The executioner's form blurred.
Serena barely had time to react—he was fast.
Asher, however, was faster.
Their weapons clashed in mid-air. The sheer force sent shockwaves rippling through the sky.
Serena didn't hesitate—she vanished in a burst of speed, appearing behind another priest and slashing through his throat.
Blood sprayed. The priest fell.
But the Blood Cross didn't falter.
More priests jumped from the warship, filling the air with crimson chains and dark magic.
Serena spun mid-air, deflecting projectiles. "There's too many!"
Asher's eyes burned red.
"Then we clear the path."
And the sky turned crimson.
Blood surged from his body, forming massive tendrils that lashed out like whips, shattering the approaching enemies.
He twisted his scythe, sending a shockwave of pure blood energy toward the warship's hull.
The explosion rocked the entire vessel.
The priests staggered—just the opening they needed.
"NOW!" Asher shouted.
Serena kicked off an enemy's body, launching toward the border.
Asher followed, his blood wings flaring behind him.
The executioner snarled. "You won't escape!"
He threw his blade—a massive, crimson sword that howled like a banshee as it flew.
Asher didn't look back.
He lifted his scythe—
The executioner's blade shattered.
The warship lurched violently as its runes flickered.
The priests screamed, their magic unraveling.
Asher and Serena crossed the border—
And the moment they did—
The Blood Cross forces stopped.
The executioner's eyes widened in fury. "No…"
A divine barrier flared to life, separating the two territories.
Asher and Serena landed on solid ground, breathing hard.
Serena flopped onto her back. "That was insane."
Asher exhaled, wiping blood from his cheek.
But he wasn't smiling.
Because even though they had escaped—
This was just the beginning.
The Blood Cross wouldn't stop.
And now, they had crossed into another god's domain.
One that might not welcome them.
"So, this Obsidian Kingdom belongs to the Dark God Volfang. Will he even accept us in his domain?" Serena asked as she lay on the grass, exhausted from their escape.
Asher shrugged. "Only one way to find out."
They rested briefly before continuing forward. After some time, they came across a small village nestled within the dark, misty landscape. The buildings were made of black stone, with eerie blue lanterns flickering along the streets.
The villagers—cloaked figures with ashen skin and piercing silver eyes—stared at them warily as they entered.
Serena tensed. "They don't seem very welcoming…"
Asher kept walking. "They're cautious. We're outsiders."
A hooded man approached them, his presence calm but firm. If you want to read more chapters, please visit Novel~Fire. (n)et
"You carry the scent of foreign blood," he said. "Who are you, and why have you entered Lord Volfang's domain?"
Asher met his gaze, unfazed. "We were being hunted by the Blood Cross. We seek refuge."
The man's eyes darkened at the mention of the cult. "You are enemies of Malfus?"
Asher smirked. "You could say that."
The villagers murmured among themselves. Some looked relieved, others intrigued.
Serena glanced at Asher, confused. "Why do they care?" she whispered.
The hooded man answered before Asher could.
"The Slaughter God Malfus is our enemy," he said. "Our Lord Volfang opposes him."
Serena blinked. "Wait… so Malfus and Volfang—"
"They are at war," the man confirmed. "One seeks endless slaughter. The other seeks balance in the dark."
Asher's mind clicked.
That meant—they were safe here.
The man gestured for them to follow. "Come. You must speak with our priests. If your cause aligns with ours, you may find shelter here."
Asher exchanged a glance with Serena.
She exhaled. "Well… at least we're not walking into another death trap."
Asher smirked. "Not yet, anyway."
They arrived at the village chief's house, a large stone structure surrounded by eerie blue torches. Inside, the air was cold, but not unwelcoming.
Sitting at the center of the chamber was an undead man, dressed in elegant black robes embroidered with silver runes. His eyes glowed faintly, a sign that he was something more than just a corpse.
"Ah, new faces." He smiled, his voice carrying both warmth and an unsettling presence. "Welcome to our humble home."
Serena frowned, whispering to Asher, "I thought Volfang was supposed to be a good god. Why is this entire village filled with the undead?"
The chief chuckled, overhearing her. "Because he is the Savior of the Damned."
Serena stiffened as Asher raised an eyebrow.
"You must be from outside," the chief continued. "I assume you know little of Volfang's ways?"
"Enlighten us," Asher said, folding his arms.
The chief leaned back. "When mortals are abandoned by their gods—when they fall to plague, war, or tragedy—who do you think answers their prayers?"
Serena's eyes widened slightly.
"Volfang?" she guessed.
The chief nodded. "Exactly. He does not forsake the damned. Those who die unfair deaths—those who perish with unfinished burdens—he grants them a second existence."
Asher glanced around. Now that he looked closer, the villagers weren't rotting corpses. They were undead, yes, but they were... stable. Their bodies weren't decayed like typical zombies. Some even looked nearly human, aside from their pale skin and glowing eyes.
It was unnerving, but also strangely… peaceful.
"So these people…" Serena hesitated.
The chief sighed. "A plague was sent into our kingdom by the Blood Cross. A curse disguised as an illness. When the god of death refused to take us properly, and when the world abandoned us, Volfang took us in."
"Poor guys," Asher muttered, understanding now.