Amatus threw the orb. It was pointless. Perhaps the answer to this matter lies in his memories… After all, he had already defeated the curse once. The god of love focused and dived into ancient memories…

"At what point in your life did you commit to sucking?" Amatus asked. He stood victoriously over Eldricka's beaten body. His golden armor, etched with pink details, gleamed in beautiful contrast to the darkness enveloping Eldricka.

'Of course, I remember this,' Amatus commented on his own memories, 'As God's champion, I was sent to defeat the Great Evil…'

"You can't kill me," the curse laughed.

'True… I couldn't finish her off even after defeating her. Instead, I sent her deep into the earth, trapping the resilient pieces of her personality and strength within special crystals. But how did she come to be? Who created the Great Evil, the Invincible Curse, God's Tear, the Terror of the Mighty… So many nicknames.'

"You will never see the sunlight again, witch! Only gods can be at the top!" young Amatus shouted, swinging a long golden spear. The spear's tip pierced through Eldricka and lodged into the ground beneath her. With an ear-piercing scream, the curse was imprisoned.

'The Champion's Spear… I'll try to imprison that bitch of a curse with it again. I just need to remember where I stashed it…'

Amatus emerged from his memories. It was time to retrieve the spear.

"In the infinite abyss, where threads of fate unravel and the core of existence fractures, only I command the essence of all that was and all that will ever be… Welcome yourself into the Oblivion Sanctum," a voice echoed through the vastness.

Amatus ignored it. He walked along a black path of black bricks; the sky around him was black, the ground around him equally black. A black sun cast black light on the black bugs flying around.

Voices resembling the clattering of a sack of gravel rang through the black perfection.

"With wings of bones and scythes that sing

Your fate is sealed, no mercy to bring

Shadows fall as life draws breath,

All will succumb to the embrace of death," an unseen choir sang.

"Is this whole farce really necessary every time I descend here?" Amatus spoke aloud to his surroundings, crossing his arms critically.

"I have a reputation to uphold, you know…" said a figure that appeared behind the god of love. Amatus turned to face him. The deity before him was familiar to all of us. Tall, cloaked in a simple and tattered black robe, the God of Death, the Grim Reaper, the Great End, stood with his right bony hand resting on a scythe. The scythe drew attention because, aside from Amatus and the white bones of the God of Death, it was the only non-black thing in the surroundings. Its blade was silver, emitting a muted, bluish light. His impractical, skinless wings were folded behind his back. 'What a stupid addition. You can't fly with those wings; they just get in the way,' thought Amatus.

"Forgive me for visiting you unannounced, but I need my spear back..."

"The Great Curse... Has it returned?"

Amatus nodded.

The prince sat in front of a small cauldron in his room, grinning more than usual. It had been a few days since he felt the return of his magical energy. However, he didn't want the others to know that his powers had returned, so he hadn't used them. After all, he needed to conserve his strength for Ater. 'Ater Arbor…,' the thoughts troubled him. 'Perhaps I should get back into shape a bit before the confrontation with the Dark Doctor.'

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Antonus entered the room. He eyed the cauldron critically. "What's cooking?" he asked playfully but cautiously. The prince didn't take his eyes off the cauldron. "Poison," he replied curtly. "Poison??? Poison… for whom?" Antonus asked, stepping back in disbelief. The prince stood up and kicked the cauldron over. The sticky, black, and hot liquid spilled between the prince and the fire master.

"For you."

Antonus frowned. "You consider me an obstacle? An obstacle to controlling Ater through Queen Therese?"

The Prince grinned.

Fireballs appeared in Antonus's hands as he bent his knees, assuming a battle stance.

The Prince grinned.

The first attack was fierce. Four rings of flame formed around the prince and began to close in. It didn't seem like he had anywhere to escape.

The Prince grinned.

TRAMP! A powerful lightning strike hit the prince, teleporting him behind Antonus. 'The prince is a master of lightning???' Antonus concluded and lunged forward, away from the prince. 'I'll adapt my fighting style accordingly... His offensive capabilities are limited.'

The Prince grinned.

Antonus shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He changed his posture, now leaning more forward than before. The fire in both hands took on the wavering shape of a shield. 'This will protect me from lightning,' Antonus nodded confidently.

The Prince grinned. He extended his right hand forward. Antonus tensed his muscles and focused his mind. He'd eat this lightning like breakfast!

Antonus felt a cold stab in his back. He looked down. A sharp icicle, which had sprouted from the ground behind him, pierced through his chest at an angle.

Blood started to fill his mouth. He coughed it out sorrowfully and with his last breath said, "Double-branched, huh?" His body went limp. Antonus died.

The prince waved his hand again, and the icicle vanished in a cloud of steam. He approached the bloodied corpse. Grabbing the deceased Antonus by the hair, he lifted his head. Now the prince was face-to-face with his former servant. He raised his free hand between them. Extending two fingers, he pointed them at his own eyes. He twisted his wrist and pointed them at Antonus's cold, lifeless pupils. He pushed his hand forward. The sound was fleshy and slimy, like pushing fingers into soft spaghetti.

With a silent *plop!*, the eyeballs exploded, spraying the Prince's grin with blood. He adjusted his fingers for a better grip. He stood up and began dragging Antonus's body behind him, holding it by the eye sockets. As he dragged him across the floor, they left a trail of blood behind.

He exited the room and walked down the hallway. He stopped in front of the Queen's chambers and knocked.

"Antonus, did you ask the Prince what I requested…," the Queen began cheerfully as she opened the door.

The Prince grinned and lifted the lifeless corpse into the air. "Is this who you were expecting?" The Queen screamed and collapsed onto the floor. The scream was heard by Frejo, who appeared beside them a moment later with a powerful lightning strike. He saw the Queen crying on the floor, frozen with fear. He saw the Prince, stained with blood, with a maniacal grin on his face. He saw Antonus's motionless body hanging by the Prince's two fingers. Cautiously, he stepped back. "I'm about to have some fun. Do you have any objections?" the Prince asked Frejo. Frejo shook his head briefly, gave a short bow, and ran off.

The Prince began to laugh loudly. He carried Antonus's body into the Queen's chambers and closed the door behind him. "I've always been curious about using 'toys' in intercourse," the Prince spoke to himself.

Frejo leaned against the wall, clutching his chest. His breathing was fast and erratic. 'Well… It's official. The Prince has gone mad… I knew it would happen sooner or later; he's always been a few bricks short of a load. But how did he kill Antonus? Is it possible that Ater managed to restore his magic? Ater, you fool, where are you when I need you most?' the Prince's advisor panicked. He bit his lip. Another scream from the Queen echoed through the castle. The scream startled Frejo, causing him to jerk and bite his lip so hard it started to bleed.

Amatus was polishing his spear. The weapon had incredible beauty. The shaft was made of pure gold, carved with vine motifs. The blade was shaped like an arrowhead, but the metal was perfectly white. The God of Love was sitting in a room with a cozy, baroque appearance. A soft carpet, an armchair, a fireplace, carved stairs… The orb above the fireplace glowed red. Amatus dropped the spear on the floor and leaped toward the shining object.

Amatus stared in disbelief through the orb for three minutes. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the floor. He clutched his stomach and vomited all over the carpet. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. 'I knew the Prince was a monster, but this…' the supreme god thought in shock. 'What on earth is he thinking? Ater will kill him!,' Amatus concluded, shakily returning the orb to its place. He picked up the spear from the floor and snapped his fingers. The daughter of the goddess of nature Bereginiy, Oloro, appeared before him. "Clean up this mess," Amatus ordered curtly, pointing to the puddle of vomit on the carpet. Oloro looked at him with concern. "What happened?"

"Those who live for destruction never tend to see the beauty of life…," Amatus whispered.