The magical wards of Gantz, designed by Tingarth himself, had shattered the instant the divine power descended. The high priests of the various city temples, after frantic prayers for guidance, began evacuating the civilians near the tower. According to the Continental Accords, combat between Legend-tier beings and above was forbidden in populated areas. But this was a battle of demigods, and the other gods would not intervene so long as the combatants contained their power.
In the tower, just as the twin suns of the 'Sunset' spell were about to hit, 'The Light of the Worlds' unfurled a pair of pristine white wings. His form flickered, swapping places with a phantom image he had left behind on Mercuria. The phantom was annihilated by the blast. A moment later, the real demigod reappeared, his wounds already knitting themselves closed.
Two more figures appeared at his side, both beautiful, winged angels.
Celestials, Leo's mind supplied. Archons. Native inhabitants of the Seven Heavens.
The Archon on the left, impossibly handsome, smirked. "Heh. You're not like the other native gods from the Plane of the Natural Heart." His voice was a melodious taunt. "I've killed three of them on my Lord's orders. They were born before you, with more followers, but they were... brittle. You have artifacts. You shouldn't have artifacts. Who is backing you? The Lady of Night?"
He chuckled. "Of course, you won't answer. That's fine. I'm just distracting you."
As he spoke, a silver glint flashed in front of Leo.
"Heh. My prophetic power has blinded your demigod senses to the true danger," the Archon continued.
Leo twisted his body in an unnatural way, dodging the silver streak by a hair's breadth. Immediately, the other Archon and 'The Light of the Worlds' unleashed twin beams of purifying light.
"Heh," the first Archon said again. "I lied. I didn't blind your senses. I inverted them. The attack that felt harmless was the real threat."
Leo's own divine intuition screamed, but it was too late. Another silver glint, and this time a dagger plunged into his head, the blade twisting brutally before being pulled out, trailing brain matter and blood.
"You see," the Archon gloated, as a plain-looking, gray-robed man materialized from the shadows, "a Legend-tier assassin's attack is weak against a demigod. Unless, of course, the assassin is wielding a weapon like *Asher's Fang*, the 'Silver Dragon-Slayer'."
'The Light of the Worlds' folded his wings, his expression impassive. "The fallen heresy is dead. Folgreis, Cecil, take his body back to Mercuria for my Lord's judgment."
The two Archons stepped forward. Suddenly, a short sword, covered in blood-red runes, stabbed out from the corpse on the floor, piercing the heart of the Archon named Cecil. He collapsed, his white wings stained crimson.
Leo stood up, the gaping hole in his head sealing itself shut. He looked at the remaining Archon and smiled. "Heh. I lied too. I'm not dead."
The assassin, Asher, was stunned. He tried to fade back into the shadows, but another silver glint appeared within them. A duplicate of himself, wielding his own dagger, stabbed him through the brain.
"Something's wrong. Retreat," Folgreis and 'The Light of the Worlds' said in unison, their wings flaring as they activated their escape spell. They swapped places with their phantoms on Mercuria, confident in their escape.
But the next moment, a streak of light crossed the Golden Heaven. 'The Light of the Worlds', now safe in his home plane, looked down in disbelief at the gnarled branch of a spear protruding from his chest.