Ascension of the Dark Seraph-Chapter 302: Coup De Grâce (3)

Lucivar swallowed harshly.

His usual defiance slowly melted away from his face, turning into pale fear.

A change that could be seen clearly.

And in that moment, Caldaros knew his instincts hadn't failed him this time—he was spot on.

"What's the matter? You look pale, Avatar of Loki." He murmured confidently.

Hearing this, Lucivar shook his head.

He recovered from his shock and put on a brave face again.

"I'm surprised you knew about that, but then… So, what if you knew? You can't stop it."

"Really…? Do you really think I can't stop it?"

Instinctively, Lucivar looked down at his body, frantically thinking about what Caldaros possibly could do to his newly acquired ability. He extracted it directly from Orivelle. And Loki's statue clearly stated that he obtained the Fire Resurrection ability.

And from what he learned, Sunna has no abilities that could block revival.

At least not until the later elevations.

"Wha-What did you do…?"

Smiling inwardly, Caldaros played with his sword and walked to the side slowly.

"I knew what you were up to, so I contaminated Orivelle's blood with my power. I purposefully hid it well, leaving it dormant, so you wouldn't notice. But now that it's in your body, you can't stop it. If you try to use the Fire Resurrection, you will implode."

Deg!

Lucivar's heart throbbed inside his chest when he heard that.

He was betting on Orivelle's ability to win over Caldaros.

Knowing all of Loki's previous avatars lost to Sunna's avatars—he knew that winning against Caldaros would be something close to impossible. Lucivar is arrogant; he obviously thinks he is better than all of the previous avatars, but he wasn't stupid.

Despite the help from Sutekh's enhancement to his physique, the fight won't go smoothly.

So, the Fire Resurrection would be his final trump card to win.

But with it compromised, he's doomed.

"My ether reserve is empty… I'm barely able to stand… And I have no more God strands…"

Lucivar analyzed his situation and realized how dire it was.

Just then, he reached for his nose, feeling warm liquid drizzling down from it.

Unlike the normal color of blood, this one has a tinge of gold, sunlight gold.

"Seems like my blood is activating…"

Caldaros' voice rang as he let go of his broken sword and clenched his only functioning hand into a fist.

Hearing this, Lucivar quickly raised his hands, and fear could be clearly seen in his eyes.

"Wait a minute, I surrender! I've only been Loki's avatar for a few months, anyway, so I'm not really close to him! Besides, I wasn't always like this! Ask my family! Before this, I'm a good person, but the moment Loki took hold of me, I couldn't help myself!"

"Please, if anything, help me get rid of him!"

Despite the begging and pleading, Caldaros has no intention of sparing Lucivar.

Nothing will stop him from killing Lucivar in this moment.

He was already firm on that decision before.

But now, since Lucivar touched Ciri, there's really no chance for him.

Slowly, Caldaros' eyes trailed down to look at his hand with melancholy.

"You said this hatred between us didn't come from ourselves, but was tied to our patron Gods," Caldaros spoke, his voice steady, and his face devoid of any emotion. Only blankness as he said this. "We would not hate each other if it weren't for their influence, so this has never been personal. But…"

Caldaros looked at Lucivar.

His eyes flashed with killing intent, vigorous and eager.

"A minute from now… when I watch the light slowly fade from your eyes with my hand around your neck, I'm going to enjoy it… Every second it. Just as Sunna would."

Caldaros let the wicked smile hang on his face for a second, to let his words sink into Lucivar's mind.

Then, abruptly, he approached Lucivar with wide strides.

He was hurting inside, but not as badly as Lucivar.

At this moment, he could still have enough strength to take a life, which he would use to end Lucivar's.

Lucivar turned, trying to flee, but his wings were nothing more than scorched remnants—the feathers long incinerated. He tried moving his legs—as fast as he could, but they dragged, each step a desperate stumble, no faster than a wounded man limping toward death.

It didn't take long for Caldaros to reach him.

Forcefully, Caldaros grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back, causing him to fall.

On the ground, Lucivar was flipped over before Caldaros mounted him.

Bam!

A solid punch cracked across Lucivar's face, cracking the bones in his face.

"TELL ME WHERE CIRI IS!"

Bam!

Lucivar tried to struggle, to block the next punch, but he was too weak to offer any form of resistance.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!"

Bam!

"TELL ME, BASTARD! TELL ME!!"

Roughly, desperately, Caldaros clenched Lucivar's collar and pulled on it.

His bulging eyes, flaming with wrath, stared directly into Lucivar's weak eyes as if he were hungry for blood.

"Not going to tell me?" Caldaros' eyes flashed with madness, as the smile on his face stretched even wider than before. He reached for Lucivar's mouth, covering it with a trembling hand while laughing like a pervert trying to silence his victim, "Good, that's exactly what I wanted from you. Keep resisting, okay?"

Caldaros nodded his head, encouraging Lucivar to resist.

"I don't want you to say where she is right now, not this fast, not yet. Don't make it easy for me, because I still haven't severed your limbs one by one. Scream good for me, alright? Scream loud and clear. Let me hear how you whimper and plead for mercy."

Crack!

Caldaros grabbed Lucivar's finger and broke it with a violent snap.

It was sudden.

Lucivar wanted to hold back his scream, but he couldn't—his scream slipped out.

"RAARGH!!"

Upon hearing this melody of pain, Caldaros parted his lips, showing his rows of blood-stained teeth, laughing while looking at Lucivar's contorted expression with sadistic pleasure. Then, he reached for another finger, breaking it too.

Crack!

"KRGGHK!!!"

"Good, that's good, Lucivar! Scream more! Louder!!"

Crack!

"GHRRKK!!"

"Did you think you could threaten me and get away with it?!"

Crack!

"RAARH!!"

"You're Loki's avatar! You're destined to lose against me! You're nothing compared to me!"

Crack!

Caldaros kept going, inflicting an unbelievable amount of pain that forced tears out of Lucivar's eyes.

But instead of reflecting and taking a step back, the tears encouraged him to do more.

One by one, he broke Lucivar's fingers.

Now that he ran out of fingers to break, his eyes settled on the next target, the first limb he was going to sever—Lucivar's right arm. Rising to his feet, he called upon Sunna's power, intending to summon an axe and drag the agony out further.

But then, a frown slowly formed on his face.

For some reason, the axe couldn't form fully.

Caldaros tried a couple more times, but every time he did, the sunlight dispersed before it could form the axe. Naturally, this shouldn't happen since he has more than enough in his tank to summon a weapon like this.

At the moment of confusion, he noticed Lucivar was looking at him.

Though his face was swollen and covered in blood, Caldaors could tell that he was smirking.

A sense of dread suddenly settled on his chest, before a familiar voice echoed.

"Caldaros…"

Upon hearing this voice, Caldaros froze like ice water had been dumped over his spine.

He knew exactly who this voice belonged to.

Slowly, nervously, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Ciri standing in front of the park's entrance.

Almost instantly, he was fixated on her face.

Ciri's face had shed its usual warmth.

Now, it was cold, distant, and unreadable.

But beneath that stillness, a storm brewed; disbelief, hurt, fury, and bitter disappointment—all tangled together, cracking through her gaze like lightning behind glass. She saw everything. She saw the battle from start to finish.

And more importantly, she saw how Caldaros acted and heard every vile thing he said.

"A-Aunty…"

Caldaros forced out a smile, hurriedly wiping the blood smeared on his hands on his pants.

As if that could somehow make everything better.

He sensed that Ciri was around here.

However, knowing Lucivar, there's a big chance that his senses were fooled.

Ciri might not be here.

But he was wrong.

Lucivar didn't do anything to his senses; Ciri was really here, and she saw everything.

"Thank the Goddess that you're okay. I was worried, and I was searching for you. But he refused to tell me anything. In any case, why are you even here? I told you that you should be in the sa-"

"Don't come near me."

Ciri immediately raised a hand when she saw Caldaros was about to take a step.

Hearing the sharpness in her tone and the look of disgust was akin to a knife stabbing his heart.

It was heartbreaking.

"A-Aunty, this is not how it looks like," Caldaros said softly, trying to explain himself although he was scrambling for words, for a way to explain. "He forced my hands. He implied that he did something to you! It's not like I want to do this…"

"Really?" Ciri asked blankly.

Just that question alone shut Caldaros up.

He recalled every word he'd spoken earlier—the threats, the taunts, the twisted joy that he would feel when he took Lucivar's life. The way he laughed, the way he begged for resistance just to justify more pain—it all painted one undeniable truth.

This wasn't duty. This was a desire.

It was as if Ciri had been living in a dream all this time, and now, he finally woke up.

All of the memories she had with Caldaros... It was a lie.

This… This Caldaros was the real him.

And more devastating than that, this showed that Sunna also wanted this.

She also took pleasure in taking down a rival God.

"It's not me," Caldaros said, desperation thick in his voice. "Look at all this blood. Look! I'm a Vampire Hybrid, Aunty. Blood changes me. It twists me into someone I'm not, gives me traits I'd never choose, drives me insane. That's also one of the reasons I don't want you to watch the tournament."

"I knew you would take this the wrong way…" He added.

And for a moment there, he could see that Ciri was slightly convinced by his excuse.

It wasn't a lie—blood did change him, but this wasn't because of that.

"He's lying…"

Out of nowhere, Lucivar's voice rang.

Caldaros snapped towards him with a face that contained a million emotions.

Mostly, he was warning Lucivar not to do this.

Reaching for his pocket, he took out the vial, the White Blood vial, and showed it to Ciri.

"Inside of him, there's a dose of White Blood. He can't use his Vampiric powers. This is all him."

"Bastard! You planned this all along?!!"

Gritting his teeth so hard that blood seeped out, he turned to Ciri, wanting to give another excuse.

But Ciri has had enough of it.

"Caldaros, my dear, dear… Caldaros," Ciri murmured dearly, tears streaming down her face, as she looked at the face of the person whom she had relied on all this time. "You're as disgusting as he is. No, you are worse. You lied to me. Pretended. At least that Devil—he's honest about himself, unlike you."

A grin of triumph settled on Lucivar's face when he heard this.

'Bingo... You lose, Caldaros.'