Chapter 54: God-Slaying

She roared: “You have no right to speak of her!”
Hearing that Diting smiled wider—sent word to the twelve gods’ council at once: “Report to all gods—the Life God has confirmed fallen to demonhood. Please pass judgment.”
She couldn’t hear the council’s reply—trapped in the vortex—demon breath wrapping her—watched Diting stride away.
Knowing the future—could change nothing.
Her memory illness came from negative emotion backlash from all living beings.
Demonized now—the illness truly healed—sealed memories poured into her mind.
Clearest first—when the War God had just ascended, lost, landed by mistake at the border of immortal and mortal realms.
A small hall before her—plaque: Longevity Hall.
As a great immortal she’d heard among gods only one goddess lived at Longevity Hall.
That goddess hid from the world, wouldn’t talk—rumored hardest to approach.
She didn’t believe it.
Immortals spoke sure—but ordinary immortals never saw gods.
Must be opera scripts about gods—made up.
Disbelief aside—now truly at Longevity Hall—still nervous from rumor.
Awkward: “Forgive me, senior—I’m new to the immortal realm—lost direction—disturbed you—please excuse.”
When Milt turned the War God looked up.
Unlike rumor—the Life God in red robes, hem flying, snow rabbit in arms, gentle eyes on her.
One look—only one look—the red-clad god crashed into her heart—never moved again.
“No matter. No disturbance.” Milt wasn’t blaming. “Colleague—do you like rabbits?”
“Senior—what do you mean?” The War God blank—couldn’t parse the depth.
Milt said: “These are moon rabbits. My hall is lonely—they know and often keep me company.”
“Colleague is too stiff. I am Milt.” Milt asked, “And your name?”
“Yanci.”
Milt looked up—praised sincere: “Yanci—a fine name.”
Hearing Milt speak her name—it sounded especially beautiful.
Her mind wasn’t on praise.
Hearing “lonely”—her heart softened without reason.
What loneliness made a god spend days with moon rabbits?
She asked: “Have you thought of finding a gifted great immortal to cultivate with you at Longevity Hall?”
“Maybe someday.” Milt laughed light. “Not planning that now.”
Courage from nowhere—maybe unwilling to let Milt stay alone—she blurted: “Then I’ll come often from now on.”
Too forward—she added awkward: “If you don’t mind the bother.”
“How could I? I’d be glad.” Milt smiled. “Where are you headed? I’m free—I can see you there.”
“Actually… I don’t know where to go.”
“The moon palace?” Milt suggested. “Richest immortal power there—fine place to build a hall.”
Moon palace was blessed—best site for a dwelling.
Longevity Hall sat where power was thin—only Milt’s divine force barely made a god’s domain.
She asked: “And you? Why choose Longevity Hall here?”
Milt only smiled—no words. She didn’t press.
No transport—Longevity Hall wasn’t far from moon palace—they walked together.
Not awkward—Milt kept the air warm—asked much about life before ascension.
She came from a remote corner—past dull—she scraped for anything interesting to share.
Like her home’s simple folk—never heard of scrambling for rank.
Like flowers there—especially pink roses—finer than any she’d seen.
Like a custom—if you chose someone you gave a hairpin—love that never fades.
At that Milt asked sudden: “If you gave a pin to the one you love—what kind would you give?”
Eyes dreaming: “I’d carve the most beautiful rose by hand for them.”
Milt laughed soft: “Whichever immortal you loved deeply would be fortunate.”
The scene shifted—Yi Ke’s consciousness drew back.
Half-dazed she seemed to hear the War God at her ear, gentle: “Actually—you’re not the true Life God, are you?”
Heart jolted—still she played calm: “What do you mean?”
---
“Literal meaning. You share the Life God’s soul but aren’t from the same era.” The War God answered. “You were called by power to come—as guest of this age—I should host you properly.”
“Before me—no need to pretend.” The War God calm—firm promise. “Hold the right path—keep your heart—I will treat you as the friend of a lifetime, never replaced.”
When sight cleared she was still in Spirit Tide Pool.
She pulled out fast—clutched chest in pain—backlash forced blood from her lips.
She laughed at herself—yes—the talk just now was dream.
But the memory was real—the pink-rose pin—the War God’s token.
War God… Yanci.
She could be sure now—that was her lover.
But she was only from the future—couldn’t stop any of it.
Looking like this she couldn’t return to Longevity Hall—didn’t know where to go.
The wide world—nowhere left.
Days passed—the twelve gods’ council moved—named her the cause of war—passed god-slaying judgment.
She almost laughed—once colleagues—on Diting’s word alone—condemned so easily.
Meeting the War God came seven days later.
The War God traced her breath—found her in the mortal world: “Was it you?”
“Not me.”
Demonized—that was fact. The War God wanted to speak—Diting rushed in: “War God—careful!”
Diting struck heavy—threw her to the ground.
Backlash pain not faded—wounded again—blood again—the War God cried: “Sister Milt!”
Vision blurred—she reached toward the War God—warm light wrapped her.
Eyes open—back in Longevity Hall.
“I never believed mortal war was your doing. Years beside you—I know you better than anyone.” Cailan had brought her back. “However they slander—I stand with you.”
Diting’s strike had nearly killed her—no strength to speak—leaning aside to stand at all.
Diting came fast. Cailan shielded her behind: “Diting—what game are you playing!”
“A game?” Diting sneered. “Cailan—you’d better come to my side. Don’t collude with demons. If the gods learn—even I can’t protect you.”
“Pah—who wants your protection!”
They fought in Longevity Hall. She kept hoping the War God would appear—the one she missed didn’t come.
Diting’s eyes cold—losing to Cailan—raised an artifact—trapped Cailan firm.
“Spirit Tide jade pendant!” Cailan’s pupils shook. “You’re vile!”
“Who holds the artifact owns it—what’s vile?” Diting lifted sword—didn’t look at Cailan—blade at her. “Life God—at death’s door and no one helps.”
He slashed down—she closed eyes—pain didn’t come.
Eyes open—Cailan had broken the pendant’s bind at cost of everything—body blocking hers.
“Cailan!”
“My Lord—go… quick…” Cailan’s power spent—form scattering. “Let no one find you—including…the War God.”
Grief and rage—she drove divine power in her palm—forced transport—fled Longevity Hall.
Power spilled—still the War God found her trail.
On the battlefield—at last blades crossed.
At this node the other ten gods—stirred by Diting—laid the God-Slaying Array in the clouds—shut her and the War God inside together.
The War God knew betrayal from the most trusted—heart sank—hands formed seals to hold the array.
All guilt surged at once—too late for regret—thousand words became three: “I’m sorry…”
In Diting’s plan they’d both die in the array—he’d climb the clouds and kill the other ten gods himself.
The War God spoke: “Diting schemed everything—missed one thing.”
“What?”
“He’s not a god—doesn’t know the God-Slaying Array is mighty—but can only kill one god.”
Since the great wrong was cast—the War God released all divine consciousness—met the array’s thunder: “I’ll use my last divine force—send you out of the God-Slaying Array!”