Whatever outrage may have been caused to Tiar since the time of his return to Yut as a Viktar, none could match the one that followed being trapped by the commander of Negite’s Bloodguard Harpies. And probably knowing how aggravated he was, his opponent further fueled his rage by sending her words through the surrounding flames and winds to mock him:

‘Remember the name of the one who fooled you, Orderling – Myrza of the Firestorm Wings!! And I’ll make sure to give your regards to any allies you have down in the city as I slaughter or torture them!!!’

No other word was spoken through the Chaos Harpy’s two devas after that, as he felt his body starting to break apart under the effects of the firestorm, Tiar losing whatever composure he had managed to maintain up to that point. He roared and screamed, beams of Order energy now erupting under the skin of different parts of his body with such force that they spread particles of that type of energy all around.

The beams pierced through fire and gale again and again, the particles spread by them starting to instinctively work on restructuring the Chaos devas into a state of nothingness. Those Chaos devas’ particles in turn tried to corrupt and then disintegrate the particles of the Viktar’s deva, their clash representing a miniaturized version of the eternal strife that was the war between Order and Chaos. And this version was one Tiar planned to win at all costs.

Ensuring Bara and the others were safe wasn’t even the main priority in his mind at that point. There were in fact no other priorities for him except one: find Myrza and tear apart every bit of her body and soul in the most grotesque manner. Humiliate her. Hurt her. Break her. Destroy her. Destroy. Just destroy everything.

It was the type of thinking he had thought would never again come out of his mind, given that he now served Order and yet it had happened. At that moment he felt as though his blurple skin with the dark blue lines running through it was merely a shell, housing his old Distroya form within. That form was currently trying to break free and break everything else around it as it did.

The fury instilled in every Order energy particle spread around managed to overcome the ruin carried by the Chaos wind and fire particles, sending waves of restructuring through them again and again, with each wave the two elements giving way to the one used by the Griffin Slayer. Until finally there was none left.

What awaited beyond the veil of flames and winds were not clear skies, however, but shadow. An infinite and all-encompassing shadow that had taken the shape of thousands of multiplied black-feathered wings clustered together to form a sphere around the firestorm. This was a multilayered trap – one designed on the same principle as the mass of wings hiding an orb of wind and fire under its guise Myrza had used during an earlier stage of the battle. The wings had been used to conceal the orb then while now the firestorm had served to delay the Viktar long enough for his enemy to make a prison-sphere of wings around that storm.

A trick as simple and as old as time – and Bara’s teacher had fallen for it. Deceived by a much lesser lifeform not once, but twice in such a short amount of time. A lifeform that certainly continued to mock him even as she flew toward her next target with all the surety a victor could have.

Being distracted by such thoughts delayed Tiar’s realization that multiplying formulas were actually run through the wings, i.e. they were going to keep multiplying until they filled the inside of the sphere to the brim, turning it into an orb of wings. If that process was completed successfully, the very essence of the Viktar was going to be crushed by the traces of Chaos energy the wings carried, his form ceasing to exist and his life ending.

Deceive was not even the right word for what the Chaos Harpy had done. This was something much worse and more unforgivable – she had cornered him. Him – the one hailed as the strongest creature in all of Yut ever since he had conquered it several centuries ago. He who had brought about a reign of Chaos the likes of which no other dimension ruled by that Great Power had seen. He who was supreme commander of countless legions of Chaos-fueled beasts that served as an extension of his will and existed only to carry out that will to the peril of those who rebelled against it.

A mere commander of the guard of a young city, not even the one who ruled all territories inhabited by her species on that planet, much less so the queen of all harpies in Yut or the head of one of the Beast Divisions – had brought the one who until recently had been master of all of the above to his knees. Never had such an atrocity been allowed to happen to Tiar. And never could it be allowed to happen.

His skin was still in place when the wings had multiplied enough to reach him and start pushing against all parts of his body in an attempt to crush him into oblivion, but he felt as if that skin had already melted off. No Order remained. No Viktar remained. Only the thirst for ruin beyond fury that was the Distroya was real.

Driven by that thirst, he directed his left arm forward to use a technique that would blast away both all the wings that had currently been formed and the multiplication formulas placed on them by Myrza. It was the signature technique for all Distroyas and one Tiar excelled at in particular – the Horned Ray.

The user would channel their Chaos deva or devas through the horns characteristic for a Distroya, shooting out beams of all of those horns that were empowered by them to combine the beams in one massive ray. A ray that depending on the power focused in it could pierce through the heavens of a world, reach its core deep under the earth and cause it to burst, in turn destroying the whole planet in one swift stroke of perfect destruction.

His mind might have forgotten in the midst of his conniption, but his body still remembered it was that of a Viktar, though, and thus the consequences for certain actions were going to be much greater in Tiar’s current state. The biggest of offences to Order among such actions by far turned out to be precisely the attempt to use a Horned Ray.

The judgment for that heinous crime was passed down without delay or remorse, the moment Tiar tried to initiate his technique, the dark blue lines on his skin turning white up to about his elbow, those lines starting to grow in width and combine with one another. This process was accompanied by fits of the most acute pain, but that pain was nothing compared to the one the blasphemous Viktar would soon feel.

Eventually the lines had all mixed together with no space between them, the entire lower left arm of the Griffin Slayer being white in color, that white suddenly starting to crumble to dust that was carried away on the wind. Tiar quickly grabbed his disappearing arm with the other while screaming of agony so great, it felt as if his very life was being sucked out of him through the wound he had incurred upon himself. His hope was to try and restructure the damage done, but no matter how much Order energy he channeled through that limb, it didn’t serve to even delay its annihilation.

Having eventually exhausted his power, he let go of the empty air left in place of his lower left arm, that air being filled by the multiplied wings that had tightened their grip almost enough to choke him. Only parts of Tiar had not yet been consumed due to the Order energy he had released in his final moments, but such a deterrent to stop the multiplication formulas’ spread was no longer present, causing him to be completely overtaken.

Shadow reigned over his being now. Silence had fallen all around as his soul began to decay away, not having enough energy left to continue screaming. Even if he did, though, he would not be able to hear it because all his senses had become dull from the strain they had been put under before and the state of nonexistence they were currently entering.

That was without a doubt one of the greatest benefits of being among those considered higher forms of existence. No matter the circumstances that led to it, when death came for them, they were always able to welcome it in peace. And they knew their souls would then move beyond to become part of the Great Power they were bound to.

That Great Power used to have been Chaos for Tiar, so he had always known that when he died, he would return to the endless mass of indistinguishable and shapeless things that it was. Considering he was a Viktar now, he could only venture to guess as to what the fate of his soul would be.

Order was all about structures that were clearly defined from one another in contrast to Chaos, but what did that entail exactly? Was Tiar to enter some infinite city of wonders beyond imagining? Was God waiting for him in that city? Was that the reason he had not answered up until now – because he had foreseen what would befall Tiar and knew they would meet face to face soon enough?

If that was true, at least the former Distroya was finally going to learn all the answers he wanted to know. The answer to the most important question in his mind at present had already come to him, though, and that was all he could think about at the end.

Why was it that he had been beaten now? Over the long years of his life, Tiar had slain many a powerful foe, much mightier and more cunning than Myrza. But that had mostly happened during his conquest of Yut.

In the last century there had been too few to question his rule, their attempts – too insignificant to take note of. No real challenge to test his strength had come forth in far too long. And in his apparent omnipotence he had grown too confident while his skill had only decreased with the lack of practice.

Perhaps that was the reason his master Tartar Sales had been defeated as well. His empire had grown much over the millennia, spanning a multitude of dimensions not only within the territories of Chaos but in those beyond as well. Of those that knew of his existence, none dared challenge him anymore. So most likely he too had grown complacent to a point where it had ensured his downfall.

Hopefully both master and servant had learned their lesson so that they would not make the same mistake again. Or at least Tartar Sales wouldn’t as Tiar wasn’t going to get another chance. His transformation in a Viktar had been his second chance and he had wasted it in his rashness and arrogance only two days after having received this gift. And only one day since he had met Bara.

For a sinner like the former Distroya, there could be no forgiveness and since he knew he wasn’t worthy of it, he didn’t expect to receive any. He only expected his just damnation during which he could further contemplate his mistakes.

A vestige of the power granted to him lived on in his apprentice and as long as she drew breath along with the child prince of the herkleri, there was hope for Yut. Myrza and any other enemy in the dimension could be defeated in time, Tiar’s only problem being that he had taken too long to realize the one meant to defeat them had never been him.

He had only needed to guide the saviors – Bara and the prince – to the other so they could unite their peoples, unite all yuti willing to oppose Chaos and lead them in a war of liberation. That task was now done and realizing that made the Griffin Slayer feel much happier and more fulfilled upon stepping into the great beyond than he had originally expected.

Rays of white light shone amid the shadow that encircled him then, the final moment of his passing having come at last. What lay beyond it was pain. In particular, a return to the pain he felt before, the darkness of the choking masses of multiplying wings crushing him once again. And as for the light Tiar had seen, its source was the wound in place of his lower left arm, something having started forming there.

Not only had he not died, but he was in the process of creating some kind of structure, baffled as to who was responsible for this because he knew that he himself wasn’t. A part of his arm returned to its former appearance but something else had appeared in place of the hand that arm used to end with. When he saw what it was, Bara’s teacher realized who was behind this act.

Having waited for an answer for so long, he had only considered the possibility of being answered in words, not in deeds, and he repented for his blindness in that moment of revelation. On both sides of his wrist were now sticking out short beams of thick Order energy, a wider beam having formed between them that covered a great stretch of length and had taken the shape of a blade. Together they turned Tiar’s left arm into a sort of cross or rather a cross-sword.

Tales had been told for many ages that had reached the former Distroya as well when he had been a boy that only the mightiest of champions of Order in history have been granted the cross-sword as a gift from God to smite down all enemies of creation. Such a weapon was now bestowed on him in the moment he had accepted his failure and forsaken all thought of self. The answer he yearned for had been revealed.

He did have a place to belong to again – the version of Yut that going to come after he had saved it. His allegiance had now become clear – he served Order and all those bound to and blessed by it. And lastly, a clear purpose had been given to him – to dedicate his time to improving his skills and attaining more knowledge so as to ensure he would never fail again. Never fail neither himself, nor those who put their faith in him.

Tiar knew what the cross-sword meant. He had returned to Yut a Viktar by force while now he had chosen to become one himself by showing care for someone other than him for the first time. And the sword was the symbol of his initiation. A symbol whose first use was going to be to cut down all wings of the orb and reach Myrza before she reached her targets. Then, it was going to be used to eradicate all of Chaos in Negite.