The shepherd’s dog is a loyal servant, everyone knows. It follows its master, guards the sheep from wolves, and guides them onto the correct path.
However, without the shepherd, it only follows its memories of actions, without understanding the intention. It is lost with the sheep.
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Reginn knew that he had little time before Kyriekaos caught wind of his location. It would almost be instantaneous, if they were without various illusion spells he had sent through the doors. At most, they would buy him little time — a minute at most.
“Stand up,” said Reginn, his hand extended.
However, the girl only continued weeping, not noticing his invitation. Frustrated, he forcibly pulled her up by her wrist and demanded eye contact.
“Stand up!” again shouted Reginn, “Do you not understand the gravity of this situation? This isn’t just about you and me; if this beast is allowed to roam freely, there would be no one else to oppose her. Do you want that?”
“...”
The prisoner looked at Reginn through the tears. Her face was wet with salt and sorrow. This image hurt Reginn’s hard in a rare way, as it reminded him of his siblings’ weakness during training. Oh, how they would weep and cry about all things. When a dog died, when they sprained their wrist, when they were hungry. It enraged him at first how even while Reginn faced hell since the moment he was born without a tantrum, his younger brothers and sisters would never relate to his pain.
It was only after seeing the smiles on their faces that the fact was good; no one should experience what he had, and he hoped they never have to.
The expression on the girl was ugly and raw, the face of a suffering child, unsure of what to do.
The right thing to do now was not to punish them or berate them, but to teach them. About the world, and about themselves.
“...You’re three out of the five souls merged, aren’t you? You’re stronger than you look — stronger than the flower ever can be.” said Reginn, “For now… Just watch me.”
As the prisoner watched Reginn’s back turn, facing the now present Kyriekaos, she knew not what to think. However, the only remaining ingredient was time, and victory would be inevitable — as long as he survived.
“...Kyriekaos — or I suppose I should call you Alevensteinn. I find you guilty of murder, destruction and torture,” said Reginn.
“...Today is not my execution date. The day has long expired, and I cannot perish before completing the project. You must understand, this is an opportunity granted to me by the Goddess — she is the reason I have met my wife, the reason I have my talent, and the reason why I was born in that place, in that time.”
“Then let us see who the Goddess chooses — you, or me.”
Reginn took the lead and began the assault by launching multiple lightning strikes emerging from his fingertips. However, before they could reach their target, the hero himself outpaced the electrons, and held the monster in a deadlock, ensuring a sure hit.
Kyriekaos swapped locations with a cross at the last moment, avoiding the strikes. After the electricity ran through the coffin Reginn was holding, the coffin exploded into a flurry of smaller crosses, which began chasing Reginn. While he swiftly avoided the projectiles, massive crosses were spawned to fall atop the hero, causing massive shockwaves and wind upon impact, which sent the prisoner flying. Reginn caught the prisoner mid-fall, but she seemed to be having an identity crisis at the moment — perhaps an attack by the flower by releasing the memories and causing dissociation.
“Alevensteinn…Father…!”
Reginn quickly found a safe spot and cast a crimson barrier upon the prisoner as another massive cross fell onto them. The hero retaliated from the rubble by incinerating the immediate area, turning all to naught — except the prisoner.
“...Don’t think about your memories — just think about the present. What can you do? What must you do?” said Reginn, “until you accept the fact that you are dead, you will never be reborn.”
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He left the prisoner with their thoughts and instantly appeared behind Kyriekaos to continue the battle. This new Kyriekaos was better in every aspect — faster, stronger, smarter. This must’ve been the ‘balance of soul’ Alevensteinn was talking about, manipulating various perimeters to perfect the base soul. It must’ve been a constant ratio — something Reginn was extremely curious about. However, in the end, he decided to ignore the matter. If a madman was able to discover the equation, he would easily find it soon enough.
“⌈Dichtomung⌋!”
Reginn’s body dodged the strike, but his hair did not, giving him much shorter hair. He thanked the Goddess that the abstract considered his red locks separate objects from his torso, but it was still displeasing to ruin the hair the Goddess had granted him. His bright red hair was the proof of his duty and identity, and to disfigure it was to disrespect tradition.
However, as he moved his body, his motions felt ever so slightly lighter, and his field of vision increased in a small, but noticeable manner as well. Perhaps this new form was not so bad.
The hero was able to land a few clean physical hits, all empowered by the art of Acosta. However, in the end, his mana capacity was completely drained, and he was left with only his fists and body to use. There would be no more magic, no more tricks.
The grim situation reminded him of the first end of the world, his life, no, the entire world at stake. He could not let Kyriekaos know that he was out of mana and that a single activation of her talent could kill him as he could no longer simply spawn armour from mana.
However, Reginn would not be so lucky this time, as Kyriekaos immediately noticed the small differences in Reginn’s behaviour. More sweat, faster movement of his eyes, and a lack of any spells. She further confirmed using her mana vision. Two more chances. That’s all there was. She would need a plan.
Her experience as a hero was useless, as it almost never involved battling a higher power. The only time she did so was the battle of her death, against Ameri-Krishma. It was a nightmare but now, she was more powerful than ever as she was inside of her own domain. The hero must’ve been full of himself, and his arrogance would be his downfall, for within the realm, she was a god.
Kyriekaos had the best qualities of all the souls she had consumed — including talents, and using Alevensteinn’s abilities, she could see that Reginn’s soul had been burnt and weakened. She had never used this ability offensively before, but it seemed that divine spirits were just as vulnerable as humans.
The monster dashed toward Reginn. She had a double-entendre in mind: First, she would hold him in deadlock as he had before, allowing for a hopefully sure-hit attack of ⌈Dichtomung⌋, ending his life. At the same time, just in case he escaped, she would further distort Reginn’s soul as if stirring the pot.
“⌈Dichtomung⌋!”
As expected, Reginn was far too powerful to restrain, and the casket that was meant to pierce him simply stopped in empty air just before Kyriekaos’s abdomen. However, she did succeed in disrupting his soul, and it was only a few minutes before he was down for the count.
“...Is that all you got, Alevensteinn? Just the same old attacks again and again?”
“Every mistake is a step toward success. I can play this game as long as I’d like,” bluffed Kyriekaos.
“Some mistakes… are meant to be forgotten, lost to time,” said Reginn, “You should’ve been one of them, Alevensteinn.”
“Heh, as if you’ll ever understand having to live in a disgusting human body. The Goddess and their children will never understand the pain, you have no right to criticize my ambition.”
“Let the people be the judge,” said Reginn as he looked back at the prisoner.
Reginn finally understood that it was not he who must bring justice, but the humans. No heavenly intervention can be just, as only humans can mend the moral compass. The executioner must not be the one who judges, and it can only be the jury who concludes a trial.
Perhaps this was the Goddess’s intent after all. He was supposed to be a guide, not a tyrant. After showing the humans right and wrong, and the values of the Goddess, he was no longer needed. He looked back at the city of Cadra. He had never focused much on the prosperity of the kingdom, but the fact was undeniable. Though the heroes were weaker, and faith frail, the people were living greater, more meaningful lives. They did not need Reginn, they didn’t for over two thousand years now.
The hero fell to the ground. Now all he could do was to believe in the prisoner.
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The prisoner was not three souls, but three souls blended into one. It was the same for Kyriekaos, for they were one and the same. However, the only difference was in Alevensteinn’s existence, whose control over souls meant that he could distinguish himself without separation. Even he was not immune to the unnaturality of the operation, and the corrupted memories of his daughter shaped many aspects of the mind.
Within the prisoner’s mind lived three different primary personalities. For so long, each soul tried to remain separate, as individual identities. She knew now though, that all such efforts would be futile. It was time to accept the fact that the original bodies were dead, and she was the only future remaining.
After grief came acceptance, and the souls finally released their tired struggle and unified for a higher cause.
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“...I’ve got it. My souls are unified with a single verdict,” said the prisoner, finally opening her eyes, “Alevensteinn… You are the cancer of this world, and we find you guilty, for your sins against mankind.”