The silhouette in the smoke began moving toward Erin through the haze. Raw rage pulsed from it—yet the sensation only widened Erin's wicked smile.
Truly papa's girl.
Behind her, the trench she had carved through the forest was already healing: flattened trees rose like film played in reverse, shattered boulders reassembled themselves piece by piece, and vines knitted closed as if the devastation had never happened.
"So this is the forgotten divine authority Aunt warned about?" Erin mused, a grin stretching with eager anticipation.
She tilted her head. "Pretty bold of you—wielding my mother's power against while trying to steal my father too."
Ti was the authority Ashtarya had ripped from Ersyn, goddess of death and ti, centuries ago.
"You are exactly like her," the witch hissed, her voice a chorus of rot and resentnt. "Always stealing. Always hoarding what was promised to ."
She stepped from the smoke fully regenerated, severed arm reattached, green eyes blazing beneath her hood.
A flick of her newly ford hand sent thousands of hair-thin crystallized shards spinning through the air in a spiral, caging Erin from every direction.
The witch had already realized brute death wouldn't be enough.
Erin didn't move.
She sighed like it was routine boredom and raised her small palm. The dark shards struck an invisible sphere and shattered into black mist that dissolved around her.
"My father was never yours," Erin said gently. "And neither is ti authority."
Ashtarya vanished in a blink of darkness, reappearing an inch from Erin's face. Her palm slamd against the barrier; web-like cracks spidered beneath her touch.
"Everything you love will be mine," she whispered. "Your father. Your mother's stolen authority. Your death authority."
The barrier exploded inward.
Erin walked straight through the blast. The shockwave parted around her like water around a stone. Her tiny fist—wrapped in blinding divine fire—pushed into Ashtarya's chest.
Boom!
Divine energy rippled outward. Ashtarya was hurled skyward, trailing in star fla, then crashed back to land with a thud.
Erin walked forward, hands clasped behind her back.
"I ca to collect what's overdue," she said, voice light and cheerful. "Mother's authority… and your soul. Even you don't get to outrun my death authority, witch."
Ashtarya tried to push herself upright, but the borrowed body was already failing, seams of black light splitting across her skin.
Before she could recover, Erin swung her small bare foot with an impossible force into the witch's ribs. The witch flew backward and hit the boulder with a wet, sickening crunch.
The wicked smile on Erin's face faded, replacing it with a mix of rage and grief.
"All of this," she snarled, her voice dropping into sothing deep, "every second of their pain… is your doing."
The ground cracked beneath her bare feet as she walked forward.
Ashtarya struggles to move, coughing up black blood that stains the stones. She grabbed the handful of witch's hair, yanking her head back.
"Do you even understand what you stole from ?" She whispered against the witch's ear.
Then she drove Ashtarya's skull into the rock without rcy.
"I was supposed to have a father who taught how to fight."
She drove the witch's face into rock again.
"A mother who sang to sleep."
Again.
"I was supposed to be loved."
Each impact healed just enough to let the witch feel the next one. Bone splintered, reford, and splintered again. Blood stained Erin's small hands and streaked her cheeks alongside tears.
Eighty years of bedti stories told by her aunt. Eighty years of watching her father die inside every ti he rembered a woman he couldn't save. Her mother reborn fragile and afraid, hunted lifeti after lifeti because this creature refused to let her soul rest.
She felt alone for eighty years without them.
Erin's voice cracked. "Because of you, I waited in an empty palace while they suffered. Because of you, I grew up alone."
She paused, witches face a pure display of gore, black blood dripping from every corner. She stopped not out of pity.
She leaned closer to her face; her red eyes were terrifying, burning like a hellfire. "Their struggle is your masterpiece, witch. And I have been waiting a very, very long ti to thank you for it."
Looking at Erin, a broken laugh escaped the witch. Bloodied lips moved in a chant. With the last of her strength, Ashtarya slamd her palm to the ground.
The ground started shaking and tore open—three jagged rifts swirling with primordial chaos. From them, three huge hulking creatures erged.
One was a beast of the living shadow with visible bones. Another was a living dead Griffith with rotting flesh. And third was a single-headed Cerberus, saliva dripping from its teeth, eager to munch the little little girl in front of her.
"Kill the child…" the witch rasped with a triumphant grin, thinking she outnumbered the goddess of death.
Erin didn't even look at the summoned creatures. Sure they're strong; they could give ti for Ashtarya to escape. But her gaze was still locked on the witch, a look of utter contempt displayed on her face.
The bone creature started running towards Erin, opening its jaw wide to crunch her.
"You never learn," she whispered.
♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢
Celestial tea stead between them, as silence stretched.
Reo swirled his spoon gently, red eyes reflected in the liquid. "So. Is there a reason I'm here, or did you really summon across half the cosmos just for tea?"
Celestia's usual teasing smile was gone.
"There is," she said, setting her cup down with a soft click. "The divine order has been unraveling since the day my niece was born. No one has ever seen power like hers." She paused, looking down into tea, reflecting ternal fear in her eyes.
"War among the gods is coming, Reo, and when it does, every god in heaven will want her dead before she finishes growing, they want her powers."
She t his gaze without blinking.
"I need you to protect her."
Reo's spoon stilled.
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