With quick and silent steps Desyra dashed over the roots. Around her, countless blades of all natures danced. Short and thin swords moved around the armor and thick hide of the enemies. The heat of the environment had caused the blades to sizzle, cooking everything they cut. Blunt and heavy weapons destroyed their posture and shattered their formations. While the light and quick dealt the final blow. The blades had cut down countless angels.

From short, to bastards, to longswords each of the blades held attributes of various natures. Be it as quick as the wind, fierce as fire, tranquil as water, or ever-changing as the earth. The enemies that stood in her way, became burnt, soaked, shocked, poisoned, crushed, cut, or impaled.

When an angel fell their once trusted weapon became Desyra’s to control. It was as if those swords were granted a will of bloodlust that craved for the blood of the divine. Not a single opening was allowed. Even long-ranged projectiles were deflected and used as bullets to kill.

None of the angels or the divine beasts could reach the eye of the cyclone of swords. When they defended against one blade another would fly in from a blind spot. If their armor was too thick, the swords aimed at the gaps. Any magic barriers would shatter. The bravest charged directly at the storm’s eye. Disregarding all defenses in desperation for a single hit some boldly flew in, but they were cut short.

The movements and coordination of the divine army had been thrown into disarray. From Desyra’s influence, the rage and bravery of the angels and beasts had multiplied a hundredfold. With their desires as the bait, those who were called brave charged to their deaths. However, they believed she stood at the center of the blades. Not noticing she had moved to a different location.

At the new area, she rapidly disarmed and knocked down beings of all levels. She sowed words of corruption into every other beast and angel she took down. No matter how pure or righteous someone was, they would be guided down the wrong path. With a voice that could cause a world stop and listen, the line between truth and falsehood blurred. Bending truth into lies and vice versa, the number of angels that began to fall was numerous. As the fight dragged on many of the divine troops defected and turned their blades to their former allies.

The god of knowledge, the goddess of strategy and countless other divinity, who govern over intellect, struggled. Due to the mental connections between all the troops they heard her words. Desyra’s voice was hypnotizing. Every line she spoke was soft and gentle. It was as if the words cradled their minds while singing a sweet lullaby. It invited them into the embrace of false security, nostalgia, and warmth. Everything she said became true, seeding the start of acceptance. The longer they listened; the chances of them converting grew. Escaping from the entranced state was no easy task.

Feeling the impending danger the goddess of temptation had cut the mental connection. Luckily the effects of Desyra’s sweet words were reduced against her, even though divinity should hold no mortal desires. However, the recoil from forcible ending the connection was immense. All troops were staggered for a brief second. The ones at the front line paid the price with their lives, but it was small compared to the other possibility.

“You have my thanks,” said the goddess of strategy, “But our army is on their own. Even if we have excellent generals, it seems those people are able to use our numbers against us. If we do not get rid of that demon, our connections are down.”

“It does not help the slime is quickly breaking through our ranks,” said the god of knowledge, “Its aim is probably our backline. It won’t be odd if they knew about our plans. Most of our strongest fighters are preoccupied too…”

After a moment of silence, a few gods and goddess stepped up. Being peerless in looks they were the most resistant to charm, the goddess of beauty, the goddess of temptation, the god of attraction and many more. They were the ones to face Desyra, as most of the current powerhouses were preoccupied with Sors and Menor.

Flying through the war zone the group eventually arrived at where Desyra was. Using their powers they were able to free the entranced soldiers. Knowing that they would get in the way, all the troops in the area backed off. They gave space to the gods and goddesses to fight.

Laughing, Desyra spoke, “Is this what you plan to do? Send people who are ‘resistant’ to my charm? Please, every single person here is already under my spell.”

With her words, her form began to waver. Energy began to seep out into the air. She had heightened the desire of everyone around her. It caused everyone to fall into a delusional state. Be it gods, mortals, or beasts they had a desire. To live, to eat, to rule, to survive, they all had something they wanted. Falling into their own delusions was the result.

By causing her opponents to create their own delusions Desyra was able to trap them in a false world. Unlike other methods to trap people in a dream-like state, hers was the most stable. When heightening a person’s desire they create their own delusions. This allowed Desyra to rid of her involvement in the process; preventing flaws and inconsistencies from appearing. As they say: “You are your own worst enemy.”

“I see,” Desyra muttered, “So you had a strong enough will to break free from that low-level delusion.”

“You…” the goddess of beauty glared, around her laid the unconscious bodies of her allies. She was kneeling on the ground with a face of exhaustion. She had lived centuries in her own delusion. In reality, it had been minutes. During that time she had experienced loss, love, freedom, and many other emotions. Living as a conqueror she experienced death and rebirth. She had children, family and a lover. Yet all of those were false. All the deaths she mourned for and all the struggling she did was for naught.

The only reason the goddess was able to free herself was a coincidence, a one in a million coincidence. She killed herself. A single thought of doubt appeared and she acted on it.

With tears in her eyes, the goddess spoke, “You monster!”

“I get that a lot,” Desyra shrugged, “But it's a beast eat beast world, even divinity follow those rules.”

With rage, the goddess’s power surged. Even if she was no fighter, as the goddess of beauty she held an immense pool of belief magic. All mortals desired beauty at least once in their life. Those desires provided her with power. Because of the thing, she ruled over, the belief magic was unspent and stored.

Brandishing the power of beliefs the goddess of beauty stood up. In front of her, she faced the existence of desires, a being that that could call her a child. The person was someone that no one dared to mess with: Desyra the desired failure.

“Don’t you dare meddle with people’s lives!” yelled the goddess.

“Hypocrites,” Desyra sighed.

Igno, who became an unrestrained tidal wave, was destroying the enemies’ formation. Devouring every single individual caught in the endless torrent of acid. It did not matter if the person was a beast, an angel, or god. Discrimination was nonexistent in front of a hungry slime.

His formless body crawled along the giant roots. Some bits of him fell towards the lava below and evaporated. However, he did not care. The amount of liquid he could produce was endless. Having the ability to turn energy into matter and vice versa was a simple task. Everything was consumed and transformed, from air molecules to heat

The opposing forces had long abandoned the idea of retaliating. Using weapons to fight the waves was ineffective. The weapons under the protection of divine blessings and enchantments all dissolved. Even shields created from the world’s most durable material melted under the onslaught of acid.

They had resorted to magic. As all attack magic was useless, they focused on defense and support versions. Despite their efforts, it was insignificant under the flood of the acrid liquid. Igno’s acid was resistant to any magic the angels and beast could muster.

Freezing the acid failed due to the intense heat from the lava below. Flame magic was insignificant due to its incapability to surpass the current temperature. There was no earth around so earth magic was ineffective. Wind magic was out of the question as the heat created an unchangeable updraft. Also, the magical barriers were difficult to sustain due to Igno sucking the magic from them.

Believing Igno was a slime they searched for his core. Yet correlation does not mean causation. When angels who flew above to locate his non-existent core were grabbed. Tentacles shot out from the acid’s surface and dragged the angels to their demise.

As he pushed the enemy into a desperate defense he watched the situation from an invisible body. In reality, he could have overwhelmed them in a matter of seconds, but he held back. Even thought he could melt the roots he had ignored them. They tasted horrible. After carefully calculating the time Igno waited for the divinity to finish their endless fodder plan. How could he pass an endless buffet for his bottomless apatite?

The true nature of Igno’s ocean of acid was it could grow from any spec of liquid. What the opposition did not know was that he had spread acidic water vapors around the battlefield. He could instantly cover the entire area if he wanted to. Akin to a hunter waiting for the perfect shot, he waited for the moment that would provide the most food.

Because of the scale of Igno’s assault, the enemy had to fight on countless fronts. Due to the immense danger gods and goddess had stepped up to block the acid. Even with their limitless energy and magic, they could not understand his simple trick. The result of ignorance caused countless to fall, but not too many. He held back allowing a few fronts to be stopped, but that was only temporary.

When the gods had finished the fusion reactor of belief magic they cheered. When the belief magic was clumped together reality began to distort. Out of the distortion, countless golems flew appearing at mock speed. With the skies being covered once more by the divine forces, the golems recklessly attacked. As they had no emotions they fearlessly fought without regards to their own wellbeing.

With the god’s magic completed Igno rushed towards the distortion. Nothing could stand in his way for the free buffet. Appearing at the front of the closest tide of acid he destroyed the blockade in front of him. With one of his hands a pike and the other a blade, he charged forward. Using the acid to liquefy the ground he slid past everything. Slipping passed all the attacks he left everything diced and melted. Igno the unknown’s double ganger had his target.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

The sounds of gunshots rang out as Sors slipped and danced past the enemy forces. Every swipe of her saber and shot of her revolver caused many to fall. She avoided being hit through pure speed. The elegant swordplay she held was akin to a dance, a bloody dance of death. Her feet were light and swift while her arms flowed in one continues motion.

Jumping over a giant wolf, she slid down its back while cutting its flesh. Out of her revolver, countless bullets flew out defying its design. Even on automatic each shot perfectly hit its mark. Due to the firepower, the bullet pierced through countless bodies. After taking the lives of myriad a people they eventually exploded killing many more.

It did not matter if the enemy held numbers; Sors’ small frame gave her an advantage. Only so many angels and beasts could attack at a time. The only use of numbers was to overwhelm and tire out the opponent. Against Sors who was an android, that never understood the term exhaustion, it was useless. The area turned into a slaughterfest.

Not being a fool she had an extra safety measure, every time she killed someone she would steal their life force to replenish her endless energy. She was also absorbing the heat from the environment. Justifying the hot world had perfectly suited the four.

By the time three-quarters of an hour had passed; her kill count had surpassed a trillion, ignoring the opening act.

Lunging forward, an angel yelled, “YOU DARE STAND BEFORE-“

Cleanly decapitating an angel, Sors replied, “All bark and no bite gets your head chopped off.”

After a second to ponder while avoiding the enemy, Sors became more flamboyant. Small disks popped out from her back. When they appeared heat began to swirl and gather in them. When they reached the optimal temperature violent lasers shot out from them. They began to mow down the enemies. Her kills per second skyrocketed.

Coming to a stop, Sors yawned, “Why do they send the small fry to me?”

Glancing over at Menor she saw him brawling with a goddess in a full suit of armor. They seemed evenly matched, so he was probably holding back. Understanding his intentions Sors continued her killing spree. She pondered to herself why did that man always get the fun bits.

Deciding to make thing interesting she conducted an aerial battle. Kicking off the ground her revolver glowed and turned into a broadsword. Brandishing her blades she de-winged a handful of angels, causing them to fall to their deaths. When she reached the climax of her vault she created temporary platforms with magic. Leaping from one platform to another enabled her to fight with a full range of movement. Doing so allowed her to avoid the awkward areal battles.

Slicing through the enemy forces she caused a violent maelstrom that shook the world’s atmosphere. The attack caused the skies to become turbulent. It had interfered with the enemies’ projectiles and their flight efficiency. Due to the intense rising heat and the swirling air, countless cyclones formed, spewing lava everywhere. With a devilish smile, Sors soaked the sky yellow with divine blood adding color to the achromic world.

“High angel, archangel, high archangel, divine beats, blah, blah, blah. Really this is just getting boring,” Sors sighed.

After killing a quite a few enemies she ended up sitting on a pile of corpses. The laser shooting discs still orbited around her claiming victims left and right. At this point, the insane fun of massacring had dulled. She expected to at least be fighting a god or goddess, yet none appeared before her. Under her were the many corpses were the strongest of the angels and beasts. Being so bored she had taken the time to skin and pluck them.

Having cleared her side of the battlefield she flew elsewhere to pick a fight. Along the way, she dropped a rainfall of bombs. In her mind, she pondered if her ability screwed herself over.

Shaking the world Menor faced the goddess of combat. With quick steps, he danced around the goddess’s punches and kicks. In return, he delivered beautiful strikes to the goddess’s face. Karate, capoeira, kickboxing, Menor weaved and flowed a variety of fighting styles together.

Jumping back, the goddess laughed, “Hahaha, it’s been a while since I had a good fight.”

“Good fight?” Menor replied, “I doubt you could call that a fight. It’s more like a one-sided beating.”

“… My name is Pugna, the goddess of combat. Will you honor me with your name great fighter?”

“Pugna... Latin for fight, huh? Menor the forgotten.”

“Why don’t we go all out? I know both of us are holding back.”

“Then use your sword,”

“No need, as the goddess of combat I can understand and utilize any form of combat.”

“Yes, and you seem to be doing pretty well,” Menor rolled his eyes.

Noticing Menor’s impatient words, Pagna took off her cuirass, gauntlets, and greaves. As they were dented while she fought. It should have repaired itself due to its enchantments, but it had not. Forgoing her armor she threw her helmet aside. In only a set of metallic leggings and a loose shirt, the goddess raised her fists.

Taking the initiative Menor stepped forward pulling back his arm. Displacing his body he appeared in front of Pagna. The goddess pulling her arms together, blocking the punch. Although she blocked it the force caused her to slide backward. Behind her, a large gust of wind roared knocking away her allies.

Not taking a moment to breathe Menor hit the air and sent a shockwave. As the battlefield was covered with heat the waved had turned into a boiling wave of heat.

With a downward strike, Pagna split the incoming heatwave with her own. Before she had the chance to finish her movements Menor had teleported. Appearing behind the goddess he kicked her.

Being sent flying she thrust her legs to the ground to stop her body. When she came to a stop Menor had teleported once again. With a punch, he sent her flying. Before she could fly a meter Menor had elbowed her into the ground. Moving his body with a speed surpassing light he hit the goddess another time.

Receiving two attacks in an instant the goddess was slammed into the ground, as bits of bark flew away. On the ground, she kicked it and spun. Using the momentum from the spin she conducted a high kick. Only to be avoided. Rolling away she avoided an oncoming punch. The moment she was on her feet she caught Menor’s jab. Returning a jab of her own she aimed for Menor’s head. However, his form blurred and distorted. The next instant she was hit by the jab she caught.

Not letting there be a wasted moment, Menor kicked the goddess’ feet out from under her. Doing a quick spin he hit the goddess into the ground once more. Following the kick was a flurry of punches. Under the stream of attacks, Pagna could only defend. It did not matter how strong her defense or resilience was she was losing. Every time she was hit she felt her movements slowing.

Even if she ruled over all combat, she was outmatched. Whenever she sent out a kick her opponent would hit her other leg. When she punched it would be caught or dodged. Anything she had done would be read and countered.

Suddenly feeling an awful promotion she jumped away, but Menor appeared behind her with a fist full of magic. With emotionless eyes, he aimed for a kill. However, before he could hit the goddess he was sent flying.

“I apologize if this hurts your honor, but this is no time for such things,” the goddess of strategy appeared.

Hesitating, Pagna said, “Thanks…”

“We have no communication, no connection to the outside world, and our numbers are dwindling. All of our strongest followers and servants were killed. If we don’t win it will result in our eradicated. Also, I doubt the Endless Golems would help us.”

“Fine.”

“Why is that guy smiling?” the goddess of chaos ask.

“Huh?”

Looking at the flying Menor they noticed countless orbs of light. Each ball of light released a seemingly endless amount of energy comparable to gods. Seeing the spectacle everyone gulped. They could not believe a single person held so much power.

Slowing to a stop Menor looked at the world below him. The number of orbs of light grew and sprouted from his hand. With a smile, he sent the spheres spiraling downward. When each of them collided with the ground colossal explosions erupted. The gods dared not to take the blast head-on. As he was controlling the force produced from each orb, it was concentrated in one direction. Resulting in small craters but from those craters sprouted dangerous pillars of energy. Mixing in the endless number of cyclones, the world was in chaos. Making a single wrong move would be deadly.

Teleporting he engaged with the goddesses once more.

Memora who was watching from the grey tree frowned. She had bred the tree to be near indestructible and an endless glutton of energy. However, the recent attack from her father had dealt damage to many parts of it. There were a few people who aimed to face her but they became the tree’s nutrients.

Besides her the poor shrine maiden was dumbstruck. She had never thought the four would hold such destructive powers. In the past hour, she saw the army that could wipe a world disintegrate. Her magic eyes saw exotic and bazaar forms of magic. Her mortal mind could not comprehend what she had seen. Luckily the pill she consumed protected her.

“Amazing right?” Memora asked. Seeing the actions of the four was something to marvel at. The power that was thrown around was unthinkable, especially knowing that the four had not gone all out. “Well, the next stage of the war would begin soon.”

“Huh?” Vendra looked at Memora. She could not think of how such a war had not reached its climax.

“Look,” Memora pointed, “You should see cracks with your magic eyes. They might be small, but this subspace will break soon. Even though I prepared so much… it was useless.”

“When you said stage two what did you mean?”

“Gods of concepts: time, space, and all sorts. Well, they seem to lack the creativity and understanding of their powers. So it might not be too much of a problem.”