The mirage well collapsed, clouds of sand filling the air. The stolen firedew was pushing the Withered Desert to its end, and Vade was standing there watching it happen with a smug grin.
“You’re wrong, Mr. Misfit,” he said. “I’m not a lackey and I’m not a guard dog.”
Vade held out his hand and drew a magic circle in front of himself. After absorbing all that firedew, his magic power had surpassed that of the gods.
“I’m Vade the Purist, ultimate ruler of this world!”
The Itzelt Jischend tempest of lightning and sleet blew straight towards me. Magic circles appeared in my Eyes as I prepared to deal with the spell—but an intense flute played over the thunder first.
“Sky as fickle as the heart.”
Thunder rumbled and a blue bolt of lightning struck the Itzelt Jischend.
“Let’s sing. Let’s chant. Yes, let us recite!” Gaetenaros said. “Like the wind, like the thunderclaps of the blue sky. Flute of Change, Idydroend.”
Idydroend’s authority changed the tune of the flute into lightning that thwarted the blast of culling wind. The collision of the green lightning and raging tempest let out shrill cackles of pure light, breaking down the crumbling ceiling of the well even further.
“Such a little spark. You think you can win with that?” Vade said, taunting Gaetenaros. He grabbed empty air with a hand and sent his magic power into it, causing the tempest to grow in intensity and swallow the green lightning whole.
“Hah hah! Aren’t I amazing? Get culled by the great Vade, weaklings!”
“Sources that find change, eventually find birth,” a voice said quietly. “The first drop makes the pond. The pond becomes the Mother Sea. Rise, my kind children—Life Birthing Shield Avrohelian.”
The Goddess of Birth raised her navy shield. Faint light wrapped around Gaetenaros’s lightning and transformed it into a giant made of lightning. The lightning giant used both arms to grab the incoming Itzelt Jischend and suppress it.
“What, you want to arm wrestle? I won’t lose to a puppet!”
Vade threw an arm into the air, his conjured tempest raging even harder in response. The sleet froze the lightning giant solid, with the wind ripping it apart.
While all that was happening, Vade’s wary gaze never left me.
“After birth, the source deepens—”
With a staff in hand, the God of Depth spoke as though he was praying.
“Wayfarer of the spiral forest, leaves of profound confusion and shallow understanding. Unknown and unlimited, your depth is still boundless. Sink into your thoughts, traveler, and navigate the labyrinth without an end. Staff of Depth, Bostum.”
A red leaf appeared over the left side of the lightning giant’s chest. Like a heart, the leaf pumped red magic power throughout the giant. The deepened power allowed the giant to grab the Itzelt Jischend and push it back forcefully.
“Thorns of the abyss, drill a spiral,” Dilfred said.
The Abyssal Thorn he sent out stabbed into the Behelius trapping Anahem. Like threading a needle, the thorn weaved through the spell formula to stab into its weak points and break apart the coffin of darkness.
Anahem leaped out of the coffin towards Vade. He used the Withered Blade Guzelami to pierce through Vade’s right hand, but Vade grabbed Anahem’s hand to seal his movements.
“Demon King Anos,” Dilfred said. “The Four Principles will suppress this holo child. Find the culprit stealing the firedew. While it isn’t right for us to ask you to do this...I shall ask anyway. Please, protect the order of Da Qu Kadarte.”
With the Staff of Depth in his hand and Divine Eyes of Depth in his pupils, the God of Depth turned to me. “You could see the bottom of the abyss that I could not, no?”
Dilfred had probably figured it out already—as the God of Depth, this was the one place it was impossible for him to see.
“Hmm. He might be more than you four can handle,” I said.
“Silence, misfit,” Anahem replied. “I, Anahem, cannot perish. In fact, I will be the one to show him demise.”
Go, Anahem said with everything but his words, wrapping himself in his sandstorm-like magic power. He thrust Guzelami further into Vade.
“You know, I don’t like the idea of asking a misfit either, but it looks like we’ve got no other choice,” Gaetenaros agreed, gathering green wind around himself.
He brought his divine flute to his mouth and with a breath, blew his magic power through the instrument. Red and green lightning flowed out of the giant, and the last remaining parts of the well’s ceiling crumbled, opening the well to the sky. We were thrown into the air alongside the flying sand.
“Please go, Demon King Anos! Before Da Qu Kadarte is destroyed!” Wenzel yelled.
“Once this matter is resolved, I’ll return and settle my business with you all,” I said, releasing my magic power into the magic circle for Fless. “Don’t think you can avoid discussing the future of gods and mortals.”
“Understood,” Dilfred agreed with a serious look.
“Let’s go,” I said to Sasha and Misha, activating the magic circle.
As I did that, Misha turned to the Goddess of Birth. “Wenzel.”
Wenzel’s expression softened. “Militia, the Four Principles are finally on your side.”
Misha nodded. “Live.”
“Say, misters,” Vade said with a blank look, his own magic circle clenched in his hand. “What are you all talking about?”
Itzelt Jischend raged fiercely, twisting the lightning giant and sending it flying back.
“Hah! Take that!”
He kicked Anahem back and leaped out of the way.
Anahem pursued him. “I won’t let you—”
“Idiot!” Vade shouted. “Look behind you!”
The lightning giant crashed into Anahem from behind, crushing him with its sheer size.
“Hah hah! Did you think you could get away from the great Purist Vade?” Vade shouted, flying straight after me with Fless.
Just then, an eerie sound echoed through the area—Guzelami’s cry.
“Struggle all you want; everything you have is built upon sand.”
The sound of Anahem’s voice reverberated throughout the Withered Desert, sand swirling and shaping around Vade, enclosing him within a barrier of sand towers.
“Deepened sources will meet their demise. Guzelami’s one cry will cause everything to collapse and wither.”
Guzelami stabbed the lightning giant’s heart. From change to birth, birth to deepening, then deepening to demise—Anahem completed the cycle. His fiery blade grew to the size of a tower and burned with a dazzling flame.