Amarze….

  “AMARZE!” Asura lunged, his argent scythe scraping at where the Saint stood. The world of Invalia beneath Asura cracked as his right foot crushed the grass beneath. The shockwave from his foot splitting apart an entire crevice of earth as molten lava was evidently heard bubbling and fizzling from underneath.

  “Speak the name of Judgement and it shall appear!” Amarze rolled his right hand off his left arm, placing the palm of his head on Asura’s frontal bone— flinging him a decameter away from the sin of Wrath’s prior position.

  “So annoying.” Masalor’s weary voice broke from behind Amarze who was floating in the sky; the Imp was floppng side to side as he twirled his sledge-hammer between his fingers.

  “Die.” The Imp swung at Amarze who weaved whilst floating in the air, grabbing the head with the clap of his hands.

  “You’ll be the one dy—”

  “Bastard!” Asura’s hands gripped onto the buoyant Saint.

  “Hehe.” Masalor flicked both of his palms up as Asura began to twirl and violently jerk Amarze’s body around. Springing at horrific speeds that it caused disruptions in the air— oxygen attempting to pierce into Amarze to no avail.

  “You!” Asura slammed the Saint into the crevice, his body mere inches from the lava. “Come to Invalia! Inact a Genocide? You think not be stopped!”

  “Hey Asura.” Amarze’s voice grated, his coarse voice halting Wrath itself.

  “Last words for a peon?”

  “I know you probably were told this. But I killed your friends.”

  “Good,” he said.

  Amarze’s eyes widened.

  “Otherwise, the punishment wouldn’t be any fun.” Asura roared as he shot his right hand behind his back— the scythe instantly flying into to his hand as he raised it above the Saint’s skull.

  “Sick him.” Masalor yawned.

  “No no no… quiet the opposite actually.” Amarze smiled, he clapped his hands. The ground began to rumble— Asura flung off by…. willpower itself.

  The crevice closed entirely— Masalor flung, his body landing sitting next to Zero’s body as Amarze’s body began to levitate in the sky— lying down.

  “When God says we do not die— we do not die.

  When He says judge, I become judgement.

  I am the spear of vengeance, the heart of man, the denial of death itself!” Amarze roared, green embassy spiralled alongside his crimson and black aura.

  “I’LL SHOW YOU THE GAPS BETWEEN A SAINT AND SOME FILTHY SINNERS!

  EEEEEEN—CHAAAAAAAANTAAAAAAH!”

  A black box appeared ontop of Amarze’s torso, it grew.

  Grew.

  Before suddenly expanding to encompass the whole planet.

  “What the hell?” Asura looked up, he was slumped against a tree; a warm tickle leaking from his head.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  A cut? From the air around him?

  “You can’t do anything right, Asura of Wrath.” Masalor looked at the man, the Imp’s hand steadily running along Zero’s forehead. He then lifted his fingernail, piercing into his skull— no blood leaked, trinkled, splatted.

  “I’ll make myself a contingency just incase, you should watch the spectacle.” The Imp’s voice no longer carried fatigue in them, as his jaw began to clack. Acrooked smile crept across his sharp, cracked-lip mouth, like a fractured mirror reflecting madness itself.

  His yellow eyes glew as he began to walk towards the floating Amarze. His tail flicked up and down rhythmically, a metronome to his spiralling insanity. Then, suddenly, his aimless steps warped into chaotic bursts— leaping forward with wild abandon. Each rupture of reality tore the enviroment asunder: trees toppled, crumbled, and shattered, unable to bear the Imp’s violent passage. Whilst rivers parted as Moses, evaporated and steamed— Masalor looked up at Amarze, the gaze was not returned.

  “You speak of judgement but inact your own due to personal hatred. However, it is evident in your nature as a mortal to try and scramble, just to attain divinity. But an individual such as I, will never allow another scumbag to play GOD or whatever forsaken title it IS!” Masalor shot his hammer at the Saint, speed of light as the image of the hammer blurred into a pure crimson beam.

  Amarze’s eyes met with the hammer, he grabbed it with his right hand; lifting himself off the air and landing on the ground. A cloud of dust forming as his feet graced the ground.

  “I don’t understand your query… for I really am judgement incarnate.”

  Sniff.

  Sniff.

  The Saint could smell an odor, it was foul. Not the scent of blood but similarly, it had an undertone of gunpowder underneath but layered with incomplete combustion and hydrocarbons. He looked at the sky, it was night— then back at the Imp.

  Who was directly infront of his face.

  SMILING. The stench of malice leaked from his pores, thick enough to poison the wind, the air itself trembling at the feet of bloodlust. The enviroment faded, all left other than the Imp’s smile was simply darkness.

  “You are only a mere child who was cursed with the MALEDICTION named resentment.”

  Amarze backed away.

  “Is this your power as sloth?” The Saint grumbled, his gaze steady on the Imp as he tread backwards; “Utilising fear as a power— manipulating others to feel torment? Too lazy to enact your own abilities so you rely on this?”

  “You see your own fears as Limbo. Your body is stuck— forced into an empty abyss. It’s dark, you can’t see— you can’t feel, you can’t utilise any of your senses. It’s as if you are barely conscious. But your actions… they’ve lead you down to this path. An eternal purgatory….” Malasor stood his ground, chucking his hammer from one hand to another.

  “How did you?” Amarze stared at his right hand, clutching the handle with a steel grip.

  “I won’t bother anymore, as your fate has been sealed precisely.” Malasor looked up at the sky.

  A dragon floated down like an angel, Fafnir.

  “I’ll leave Asura with you, Zorc is possibly hiding somewhere— he’ll be useful soon because of this disbanding of the Seven Deadly Sins.” Malasor stepped onto the Dragon,

  Before dissappearing as he stood.

  “But I’ll leave you false memory— I’ll leave the world with fakeness. Now it begins, a world where nothing is lined up and continuity is a myth!”

  The Saint blinked.

  The world blinked back.

  Amarze stood in the dark night, the moon shining on his back as he stared at Zero’s corpse.

  “I really killed the Imp.” His voice cut sharp as he was panting. He turned his head to face Asura who was sitting on the ground.

  He walked over.

  “You haven’t won! Samiel is still— she’s unbeatable!”

  “She’s Eliza.”

  “What?” Asura’s eyes glinted. “Oh yes— Eliza is unbeatbale. You cannot fight against her!”

  “I won’t bother too. I have no qualms with her, only her world of course.” Amarze grinned, he twirled a sledge-hammer in his right hand before pointing it at Asura’s face.

  “Come at me.” Asura spit on the ground.

  “You can’t be seriously done after one attack that wasn’t aimed directly at you.” Amarze sighed.

  “I’m not.” Asura grinned.

  BEEM.

  Drip.Drip.

  Drip.

  Rain….

  “Asura, you idiot.” Amarze chuckled. “You want to live?”

  “Who doesn’t.” Asura laughed, his right hand was in the clutches of Amarze’s grip as his index finger was blowing off steam.

  “I’m a virtous individual for letting you go— Thidos will speak to you. You may be imprisoned for multiple decades.” Amarze stared at the sky.

  The clouds painted a white flag, due to Asura’s wrath.

  “I quelled your wrath for now…..” His voice cracked, barely audible.

  “But wrath never does die, does it?”

  Amarze was floating in the sky, he looked at the bright crescent moon which glowed— then stared respectively at both Samiel’s Castle and Ezekiel’s tower.

  Both remained unharmed and untouched.

  He then directed his gaze at below.

  A wasteland encompasssing the whole planet— fires brewing. Even the rain couldn’t wash away the blood on his hands.

  Which he then licked.

  ═══════ INVALIAN GENOCIDE ═══════

  Year: 20 A.D.

  DATE: 31ST OCTOBER

  Casualties: 7.8 Billion Confirmed

  Survivors: 1 Million (all maimed)

  Primary Actor: Amarze Judae — “The Hero,” Saint of Floria

  Witnessed by Heaven and Hell

  Sanctioned by the God of Floria, Thidos

  ══════════════════════════════════

  Nothing ever happens.

  It only repeats.

  Thank you for reaching the end of this chapter!

  A lot went down, and from here the story begins to accelerate even faster. Every character is being tested, and every decision is reshaping the world around them.

  If you have thoughts, theories, or reactions, I’d love to hear them, comments genuinely help the story grow. If you’re enjoying things, don’t forget to follow the series so you don’t miss upcoming updates.

  More chaos awaits next chapter, "Chapter 86: Fern Flower."