Tatter wiped his mouth and rose to his feet. “How dare you!” 

Sen ignored him. “Break Chains Maxima,” he said. The chains restraining the students broke as one. He looked toward Snake. “Get them out of here.”

Snake hissed, revealing serpent fangs in his teeth. “You. I’ll kill the ugly bird.”

“I just pissed it off, you think it’ll let me just walk out of here? You said you wanted credit for saving yourself. Now’s your chance. You can be the one to save everyone. You’ll be the hero,” Sen said.

Snake glared at him. But turned to look back at the others. He spat venom on the ground. The carpet hissed where it landed. “Fine.” 

He shouted for the other students to get up, and they looked as afraid of Snake as they had of the cultists. But they obeyed and hurried out of the room. Tatter began readying a spell. Snake shot one last look back as he followed the last of the students out of the room. 

It left Sen, Orttha, Ilm, and Sen’s replica holding Milim in the room with Tatter. Orttha kept an eye on Milim in the distance, but stood between Ilm and the fighting. Sen appreciated that. With most of the students gone, and the cultists drained of their vitality, collateral damage was now a minimal risk at best. 

He wouldn’t need to hold back. 

[We could send the others as well.]

Sen shook his head. “It has other servants. Now that we know Milim has something they’re after, we need to keep an eye on her. Ilm is a potential hostage as well. I’m not letting them out of my sight until we leave this place.” 

[Understood.]

“Well, shall we begin?” Sen asked.

Tatter sneered. But his expression suddenly changed to a smirk. It was clear Harpis was taking over. That was probably wise. Tatter was weak and wouldn’t be able to use the power Harpis had given him. Sen rolled his neck. He hadn’t fought another god in quite some time. 

Harpis was the first to make a move. Sen jumped back, pulling the fight closer to the center of the room. As he did so, his replica did the same. It took Milim even further away in its arms. 

Tatter’s wing tails spread and whipped toward Sen. “Feather whip Harpy!” Tatter and Harpis’ voices called out in unison. Without Encapsulation dodging would prove difficult. Sen’s speed stat was effectively zero at the moment. He’d have to rely on defense. Sen reinforced each of his barriers with that in mind, but when facing a god, he couldn’t rely on his usual wards. “Stone Fort Maxima!” A wall of stone crawled out of the ground. The whips crashed through it, but Sen was ready for that. “Endless Vortex Maxim!” A vertical whirlpool swirled behind him. As the whips got within range, it absorbed them, and Harpis pulled back the attack before his feathers were fully pulled in. 

Sen retaliated with an attack of his own. “Ink Blessing Maxim!” Ink bubbled up from the ground and onto Tatter’s talons. 

Harpis snorted. Ink Blessing was a low-level spell that covered the body in ink. It was effective for robbing opponents of sight, or disrupting their movements at the Maxim level. But it would do little to a god. 

Unless…the element suddenly changed 

“Elementless Shell Lightning!” Sen drew upon the power of his artifact.

Electricity rocketed the avatar of Harpis. Tatter convulsed. Until finally his wings flapped and the spell was dispelled. When he next spoke, it was the voice of Harpis. “Die. Reaper Screech Harpysong.” 

Sen’s eyes lit up at that. That spell echoed throughout history. Harpis had used and perfected it a great deal during his reign of godhood. Orttha had warned him about it when they made their way here. So Sen knew how important it was not to get hit by it. “Perpetual Wave Maxima!” A wave exploded into existence and poured toward Harpis. As soon as he’d broken line of sight, Sen dove to the side. 

A pulse of black energy shot through the wave where he’d been standing a moment ago. His perpetual wave proved to be a little less perpetual than the name implied. It crashed into nonexistence. Sen rolled to his feet and ripped the necklace from himself. It took the form of a bow. He plucked its string, and a metallic arrow formed. Malleore grew hot in his hands, and a flame roared into existence on the tip of his arrow. He channeled his magic through the bow. “La Thousand Maxima!” He loosed the arrow, and a thousand perfect copies of it went flying toward Harpis. 

The Harpy God clapped his hands. “Violent Storm Harpysong!” A powerful gust shot toward the arrows. Some of them stopped, but not all of them. The mighty gust sent Sen sliding backward. The flaming arrows bit into Tatter’s body in a dozen places where they’d landed. Sen grinned. 

Tatter sneered. Then, the sneer was replaced with a smile as well. 

The fight began in earnest. 

Harpies were extremely fast creatures. The god of harpies, even more so. Tatter sped forward, enhanced by the strength of his god, and Sen shifted to defense. His bow took the form of a shield, and it was all he could do to protect himself from a flurry of blows. The wing tails slapped against him, drawing blood. The talons scraped against his shield, looking for an opening. A powerful burst of magic sent Sen sliding back. 

Without the power of his hybrid stats, he was at a disadvantage. But he could weather this storm for a few moments longer. After all, the transfer was almost complete. 

He leaned against his shield, the wall behind him rapidly closing in. He risked a quick glance at Orttha, who nodded. The old librarian held a book in his hand. Sen’s journal. Xochi, the mana axolotl, clung to the book’s binding. He acted as a conduit to ensure the transfer of power went smoothly. Orttha reached back and threw the journal.

The sounds of Xochi screaming and pages flipping violently in the air as the book flew made Tatter look up. In that moment, Sen pushed forward with his shield, knocking Harpis back and reached out. He caught the book and felt its power flow into him in an instant. Tatter recovered quickly and slammed a talon down toward Sen.

But Mana Protection was already active. 

Sen wasn’t a fool. He knew going into battle against Harpis or even an avatar was a fool’s errand with his hybrid stats reduced to zero. But he just so happened to be traveling with a man who was drawing power from an old journal. His stats had returned instantly. But they flashed before his eyes for just a moment. 

Strength/Mana Aggression: 0 — > 99

Speed/Mana Encapsulation: 0 — > 99

Magic: 149

Constitution/Mana Protection: 0 — > 99

They weren’t back to their actual totals, but they were high enough to bridge the gap. Sen rolled over and swatted another talon away. His shield turned into a hammer, and he grinned. 

The two of them traded blows for what felt like an eternity. He alternated between his hybrid stats, only ever keeping two active at a time. He couldn’t afford to run out of power too quickly. His hammer crushed Tatter’s right wing tail. Tatter’s Talon cut three deep scars down Sen’s thigh. They traded blow for blow. Their wards shattered. Their defenses crumbled. The last dregs of their strength drained by the second. Sen wasn’t fighting at full power. Harpis was fighting through an avatar. The frustration between the two of them was evident. Both of them wanted to go all out. 

Sen was having fun. 

As the fight continued, he realized slowly that Tatter wasn’t a perfect vessel for the God of Harpies. Sen’s attacks were wearing him down, but drawing out Harpis’ power was having a negative effect on Tatter’s body as well. Not to mention Sen had gained the upper hand. His magic weapon was crushing bones with every swipe. Bones Harpis was forced to spend energy to heal. With a sound of frustration, Harpis released a high-powered death screech, and Sen was forced to catch the brunt of the attack with the hilt of his hammer. It sent him flying back into the wall, but Malleore brushed it aside easily enough. 

Tatter stared at him angrily, and Sen could feel Harpis’ hateful gaze. The Harpy God was on the verge of defeat, and he knew it. 

Sen channeled his power into his hammer. He’d end this now. He had to—

“Death Screech Twice-Harpysong!” Tatter extended two hands this time. 

Sen ignored the one aiming at him and turned to look at the other. It was aimed at Milim. 

“No!” he shouted. 

He wasn’t fighting under the effect of Time Crawl, but time seemed to move in slow motion, regardless. The pulse of black energy rocketed toward Sen’s double, who still held an unconscious Milim in its arms. The other pulse was aimed directly at Sen. He stretched his hand out. “Seize Magic Maxima!” His replica wouldn’t be able to handle a technique like that. And though it had already moved to react, he knew it wouldn’t get out of the way in time. This was Sen’s fault, really. History remembered Harpis as a cruel and merciless god. Of course he’d try something like this. The spell headed toward Milim crawled to a halt a mere foot away from her.

The one aimed at Sen tore through his stomach. 

He choked, maintaining his connection to the spell hovering before her. It still pushed to consume her. To devour her from the inside. He willed it to fade away, and with resistance, it eventually did. Only then did he look down at the fatal wound in his stomach. Death screech was not unlike the strike of a demon. A wound that Total Restoration wouldn’t heal. He fell backward, his back catching on the wall. His instinct was to fall down it. To slide into a resting position. But he refused purely out of spite. His ears weren’t working. But he could see Orttha’s look of horror. He could see Ilm shouting something. 

He turned to Harpis or…Tatter? His thoughts weren’t clear anymore. It was all he could do to maintain consciousness. What made him angriest wasn’t the fact that Harpis had done something so foul. It wasn’t that he’d been injured so gravely. No, what made him angriest was that he’d been genuinely enjoying the fight. Harpis had ruined that. There was a world where Sen defeated him, made him swear oaths, and bent the harpy god to his will.

That world was gone now. 

He tore open his temporal world with a hand. A scar in the fabric of reality. His hand reached inside the opening, and he called out with his mind. It wasn’t an item per se. Not a magic artifact or weapon. It was more of a concept. A magic idea made reality. Most gods had one of these. A reflection of their will. A symbol of their power. History had captured his effectively. The God of Magic was known for long white hair and flowing white robes with gold trim. As he reached into the temporal world, his school clothes changed. One moment we’d been wearing the uniform of Brightsail Academy. The next, he was the God of Magic incarnate. 

He blinked. When he opened his eyes, he knew they would be gold instead of red. 

Tatter swallowed. “What…what is this?” 

Magic amplified Sen’s voice when he spoke now. It was a side effect of the robe he now wore. “You turned what was a game into a funeral, Harpis. You are free to threaten my life. But never…never one of those under my protection.” As he spoke, god-level mana poured forth and healed his wounds. 

Tatter stumbled back. “Master, we need to run. We need to—” He groaned as Harpis took over. 

“What are the lives of servants between gods? Together, we can conquer more than just a single continent. We could rule the world, God of Magic.”

Sen shook his head. “I see my words were not clear. Harpis, the one who defeated you last, only killed you. I will not use such a delicate hand. I am going to wipe you from existence so thoroughly that your children will not have been born.” 

Rage crept into Harpis gaze. “Arrogant fool! Die!” 

“Jump God of Magic.” He mocked Harpis by using his title maximizer rather than his usual one.

Harpis was still staring at the space where Sen had been standing when the God of Magic struck. Sen leaned over Tatter’s shoulder to watch the expression of shock on his face. Sen’s hand poked through Tatter’s chest, holding a still beating heart. “La Erasia Maxima,” Sen whispered. 

Tatter collapsed. He would live until Sen took further action. The heart he’d ripped out was one that sustained Harpis, not the original human body. He needed just Harpis to die first. He closed his eyes and looked into the air. His identity might still be a secret, but by donning his cloak, he’d just revealed his return to every god in the world. 

This was his announcement. Ragmár’s promise had been fulfilled. 

They would have felt Harpis enter the world. They would have felt the God of Magic reveal himself.

And then, only a second later, the gods would know one of their own had fallen. 

Harpis was well and truly dead.

Ano 

A few moments earlier

He fought to stand through ragged breaths. This cultist guy really sucked to fight. He wasn’t like the others. He wore black robes instead of brown and introduced himself as Marrow. When Marrow found them, a few flesh golems had accompanied him. But those were piles of meat on the ground now. Though to be fair, his friends weren’t doing much better. Joseia was unconscious on the ground behind him. One of his boots was cracked. Samara leaned against the wall. She still had the will to fight, but not the body. She must have incredible will to remain conscious after everything Marrow had hit her with. He wasn’t even sure any of her limbs were still intact. It was just him now. He could sense fighting on the floor above. It had to be Sen. Which meant he needed to buy as much time as possible. 

Marrow stared at him with an amused look on his face. “Listen, it’s been fun, but what’s going on upstairs is the whole reason I’m here. So I can’t play anymore. You already cost me my most precious golem. It was on the brink of greatness, and I was busy play-fighting with you kids.” Marrow shook his head. “So let’s end this.” He shot forward.

Ano reached up and blocked with his forearms. His two couch pillows flew in front of one of the other as well, further cushioning his arms. Marrow’s punch sent feathers flying, and the crunch of bone followed. 

Both of Ano’s arms hung limply at his side as he tumbled back through the air and landed hard on the ground. 

Ano grunted in pain. He had to get up. He’d buy as much time as he could. Ano rolled over onto his front and slowly brought a leg up to his side to press himself upward. He stumbled to his feet and turned to face Marrow. 

He felt a familiar presence and grinned.

Marrow tilted his head. “Are you crazy? Both your arms are broken. Why are you still getting up?” Marrow asked.

Ano charged, his arms flailing wildly. Marrow shook his head. And then, suddenly, he stopped moving. His eyes widened. Beside him, a demon that resembled a charred corpse was staring at the side of his face. Marrow tried to look with his peripheral vision, but his attention quickly shifted back to Ano. Who jumped up moments before he reached Marrow and brought his forehead crashing down. 

The headbutt sent Marrow flying. 

The edges of Ano’s vision grew black, and he stumbled forward, then backward. His back slammed into something as comforting as it was familiar. His old pillow. He looked up at the demon, who stared at him with a look that almost mirrored concern. “That’s all I've got, Sen. I’ll see you on the other side of—”

He fell asleep before he could express the rest of his thought. 

Of this nap.