1 Goddess.
Once upon a time, in a realm long forgotten, there existed a deity of unparalleled allure.
This goddess possessed an ethereal beauty that captivated all who beheld her.
With skin as pure as freshly fallen snow, she emanated an otherworldly radiance that drew the gaze of mortals and immortals alike.
Her body, adorned with curves that seemed to be sculpted by divine hands, exuded a mesmerizing sensuality that ignited a desire in the hearts of those who dared to glance at her.
Yet, despite her heavenly appearance, there was an enigmatic quality that surrounded her, an air of mystery and allure that made her akin to the embodiment of the devil himself.
With a glance, she could ensnare souls, leaving them entranced by her bewitching presence.
Her allure was both a blessing and a curse, for those who succumbed to her charms often found themselves entangled in a dance of forbidden desires and dangerous temptations.
In the realm where this goddess resided, a landscape of infernal grandeur unfolded.
Encircled by a turbulent sea of scorching hot lava and viscous, dark red magma, the realm emanated an aura of raw power and unrestrained energy.
At its heart stood a colossal magma stone, a monolithic structure forged by the tumultuous forces of the underworld.
Its fiery glow pulsed with intense heat, casting an eerie crimson hue across the surroundings.
The air was thick with the scent of sulfur and the sound of distant rumblings as if the very earth beneath their feet resonated with a restless power.
The Goddess, in all her ethereal beauty, seemed to harmonize with this elemental chaos, her presence contrasting against the infernal backdrop.
Perched atop the imposing magma block, a sight both mesmerizing and macabre awaited the eye—a grand throne crafted from a haunting assembly of bleached white bones.
The skeletal structure, arranged with meticulous precision, formed an intricate and foreboding seat for the goddess.
Each bone, weathered by time and the scorching heat of the realm, seemed to whisper ancient secrets and tales of forgotten souls.
The throne itself appeared as a haunting amalgamation of different skeletal remains.
The backrest consisted of elongated vertebrae, gracefully curving upward like a skeletal spine reaching towards the heavens.
Armrests fashioned from arm bones extended outward, their joints serving as eerie reminders of the past lives that once animated them.
Leg bones formed the base, providing stability and grounding the ethereal seat upon the fiery ground.
As the goddess took her rightful place upon the bone throne, an unsettling contrast emerged between her radiant beauty and the sinister symbolism of the skeletal structure.
It represented a potent reminder of the transient nature of life, the impermanence of existence, and the cycle of creation and destruction that echoed throughout the realm.
From this formidable perch, the goddess ruled over her domain, her regal presence enhanced by the stark and chilling contrast of the bone throne against the backdrop of molten chaos.
It served as a stark reminder of her dominion over both life and death, her enigmatic power drawing strength from the very essence of the realm she called her own.
Seated upon her bone throne, the goddess exuded an aura of serene command, her eyes shimmering with an ancient wisdom that belied her ethereal beauty.
Before her, a congregation of celestial beings and gods stood, their forms bedecked in resplendent golden armor that gleamed in the fiery glow of the realm.
These majestic figures, once revered as guardians and emissaries of the divine, now bore expressions of fury and resentment directed towards the goddess.
The air crackled with tension as their gazes locked, an intense standoff between the deity and her celestial subjects.
In their hands, they clutched weapons forged with celestial might, weapons that had once been wielded in defense of cosmic order.
Swords glinted with celestial light, spears crackled with celestial energy, and shields shimmered with impenetrable enchantments.
The gods, with their ferocious visages and wrathful countenances, harbored grievances and grievances against the goddess.
Their anger was palpable, simmering in the air like the molten heat of the surrounding realm.
Their once-devoted loyalty had morphed into a maelstrom of resentment, ignited by perceived betrayals and a desire to reclaim their former glory.
Yet, despite the hostile atmosphere, the goddess remained poised upon her bone throne, her expression a mask of tranquil resolve.
She understood the weight of their anger, the consequences of her actions.
Her gaze met theirs, acknowledging their fury, but also conveying a steadfast determination.
In this moment, the fate of the realm hung in the balance.
There was a sneer on her face as she looked at the thousands of other celestial beings flying around her throne.
As the goddess peered beyond the formidable assembly of celestial beings, her gaze fell upon a haunting sight.
Stretching out behind the angered gods stood mountains of lifeless corpses, a testament to the fallen devil minions who had once faithfully served her.
The sight was both sorrowful and chilling, a stark reminder of the consequences and sacrifices made in the pursuit of power.
The devil minions, once her loyal followers, now lay motionless in vast numbers, their twisted forms creating a macabre landscape.
The stench of decay hung heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid scent of sulfur that permeated the realm.
Each life extinguished represented a soul forever lost, a casualty in the eternal struggle between light and darkness.
In their deaths, the minions bore the marks of battle, their bodies bearing scars, charred flesh, and shattered armor.
They had fought fiercely, obediently carrying out their mistress's bidding, only to meet their tragic demise.
The goddess's heart ached as she beheld the fallen minions, her eyes brimming with a mixture of remorse and determination.
Their loyalty and sacrifice had not been in vain, and their deaths would not be forgotten.
In the face of the celestial beings' anger, she resolved to honor their memories and find a path of redemption.
The juxtaposition of the celestial beings' fury and the fallen devil minions' lifeless forms created an atmosphere tinged with both grief and a lingering sense of unfinished business.
Suddenly a booming voice cut through the air, commanding attention from both the goddess and the celestial beings.
All eyes turned towards the source of the proclamation, settling upon an imposing figure that radiated an aura of divine authority.
The old man, with his majestic presence and flowing white robes, floated gracefully amidst the ranks of celestial beings.
His long, silver beard cascaded down from his chin, lending him an air of wisdom and reverence.
A radiant Halo adorned his head, casting a gentle glow that illuminated his countenance.
As the representative of celestial power, he stood as a beacon of hope and righteousness, his gaze fixed firmly upon the goddess, Xeztia.
The weight of his words echoed through the realm, resonating with a gravity that could not be ignored.
The force of his divine presence imbued every syllable he spoke.
With measured determination, he continued, his voice filled with a mixture of disappointment and resolve.
"Xeztia, your reign stops here. Your actions have caused great turmoil and pain. The balance of the cosmos has been disrupted, and it is time to face the consequences of your choices."
His words hung in the air, carrying with them the weight of judgment and the need for accountability.
The goddess, Xeztia, felt a mix of emotions welling within her, knowing that the time for reckoning had arrived.
She met the old man's gaze, her expression a blend of contrition and defiance.
With the old man's arrival, the celestial beings surrounding him stood as a united front, their anger and resentment seemingly amplified in his presence.
The stage was set for a profound confrontation, where the fate of the realm and the goddess's own destiny would be decided amidst a clash of divine forces.
There was a golden bow in the hands of the old man aiming at Xeztia.
With the golden bow aimed directly at her, the goddess of death stood defiant, her gaze meeting the collective hostility of the celestial beings who surrounded her.
The intensity of their anger was palpable, their weapons poised to strike at any given moment.
Yet, there was no hint of fear upon her face. Instead, a flicker of contempt danced in her eyes, accompanied by a disdainful sneer.
In the face of their opposition, she saw their actions not as a noble act of preservation, but as a manifestation of their own fear and insecurity.
They were threatened by her ascent to a level of power beyond their comprehension, a state of omniscience that surpassed even godhood.
The possibility of her reaching such heights had disturbed their equilibrium and driven them to desperate measures.
Xeztia knew that the highest pinnacle of power awaited her, a realm where she could wield knowledge and authority on a scale that surpassed the gods themselves.
She had tasted the allure of this ultimate enlightenment, and now those who had once revered her sought to prevent her from achieving it.
In the face of their opposition, she remained resolute, unyielding in her pursuit of true omniscience.
The goddess saw through their facade, recognizing their fear disguised as righteous indignation.
She was undeterred by their united front and their weapons pointed in her direction.
In her eyes, they were mere obstacles on her path to ascendancy, adversaries who sought to suppress her potential and maintain their own status quo.
With a self-assured demeanor and a calculated resolve, she prepared to confront the united forces of celestial beings, fully aware that the clash between them would determine the future of not only herself but the very fabric of the realms they inhabited.
As the weight of her impending fate settled upon her, the goddess of death took a deep breath, her exhalation tinged with a mix of resignation and determination.
The path to true omniscience, the final step in her ascension, lay within reach, yet remained just out of her grasp.
There was one last requirement to fulfill, one final sacrifice that demanded an unimaginable level of suffering.
The goddess knew that to attain the ultimate pinnacle of power, she needed a soul willing to endure ten thousand years of torment willingly.
But as she surveyed her followers, she saw hesitation and reluctance, their loyalty faltering in the face of such a monumental sacrifice.
The weight of the task she had set before them now seemed insurmountable.
A sigh escaped her lips as she contemplated her predicament.
It seemed as though her journey toward omniscience had reached an impasse, and the only remaining option appeared to be her own demise.
But within the depths of her being, an ember of defiance flickered, refusing to be extinguished.
The lady in black rose from her throne, her demeanor grave yet resolute.
With a swift motion, a rapier materialized in her hand, a weapon that had tasted the blood of countless souls.
Its blade shimmered, reflecting the darkness that swirled within her essence.
"I will not meet my end so easily," she declared, her voice laced with determination.
The rapier held the weight of her resolve, the embodiment of her unyielding spirit.
In her heart burned a fire that refused to be snuffed out, a will to transcend the limits imposed upon her.
Armed with her unwavering determination and the deadly rapier at her side, the goddess of death stood ready to face the forces arrayed against her.
The clash of weapons and the unleashing of divine powers now seemed inevitable, as the realm braced for a cataclysmic battle between the forces of life, death, and the pursuit of ultimate knowledge.
"Hahaha...! Xeztia, what happened to your loyal followers? No one is willing to make a simple sacrifice for you?! You are just pathetic!" The old man mocked and stretched his bowstring.
The goddess of death, Xeztia, locked eyes with the mocking old man, his words piercing through her resolve.
His taunting only fueled her determination, pushing her deeper into the depths of her power.
She recognized the truth in his words, the daunting nature of the sacrifice required to ascend to the ministry of Providence.
It was not a simple act, but a profound test of devotion and endurance.
With a flick of her wrist, Xeztia unleashed a devastating strike, her rapier slashing through the fabric of reality itself.
A crimson trail trailed behind her blade, tearing apart space and time with equal ferocity.
The sheer power behind the strike was a testament to her unfathomable abilities and her refusal to be confined by the limitations of mortal perception.
The rip in the fabric of existence pulsed ominously, as if heralding the beginning of a cataclysmic event.
Reality trembled in the wake of Xeztia's display of raw power, causing even the old man to falter in his mocking demeanor.
He could no longer dismiss her as pathetic; she had proven her potency.
A newfound determination burned within Xeztia's eyes as she fixed her gaze upon the old man.
The time for words had passed, and now the clash of celestial forces was imminent.
The stage was set for a battle of cosmic proportions, where the boundaries of power, sacrifice, and ultimate knowledge would be tested.
As the rift in space and time hung ominously in the air, a maelstrom of energy swirling around it, the realm braced itself for the clash between the goddess of death and the celestial forces that sought to hinder her ascent.
The outcome of this epic confrontation would shape the fate of not only Xeztia but the very fabric of existence itself.
"Humph!" The old man snorted, his gaze unwavering as he drew his golden bow.
"Brothers, let us vanquish this heretic bitch today!" He turned to address the other celestial beings, his voice filled with disdain and determination.
A resounding chorus of agreement echoed through the space, their weapons gleaming with celestial power. "Yes! It is time to rid the realm of her presence!"
She stared at the glimmering lights and felt a wave of helplessness wash over her.
"Alas, I cannot triumph against them all..." Her voice carried a mixture of resignation and sorrow as she watched the red slash she had unleashed disintegrate under the onslaught of infinite lights.
With unwavering resolve, the celestial beings advanced, their weapons poised to strike. "Prepare to meet your end, heretic!"
She glanced at her rapier that fell from her hand, a symbol of her defiance now abandoned.
"So be it..." Her voice carried a touch of melancholy, knowing that her journey had come to a bitter end.
The flying weapons closed in, guided by celestial will, aiming to end her existence. "Face the consequences of your ambition!"
*Swoosh!!!*
The golden arrow was the first weapon that entered her chest.
Blood seeped out of the corners of her lips and she closed her eyes.
*Swoosh* *Swoosh* *Swoosh*
Next was a sword, then a spear, a trident...
Many weapons slashed through her body, puncturing her from all directions.
However, there was no sign of pain in her ethereal face, just melancholy.
Her body moved and she sat down on the throne, a smile formed on her face. She looked through all of her followers and her eyes landed on a special one.
When he was born he saw her statue once and after that, he came to her temple daily to offer his prayer.
She could tell that he was the only follower that liked her truly without any ulterior motives, he never asked for anything.
'I wonder if he would sacrifice his soul for me?' She never asked this specific follower to sacrifice his soul for her Ministry, as she has somehow fallen in love with him.
He was her only selfless follower after all.
'I wish, I could have embraced him in the end.' She looked at his gentle figure, sitting in front of her temple.
His eyes were closed and his black hair ruffled in the mellow wind.
*Cough!*
Different kinds of poisons seeped through her body and she coughed out a lot of blood, however, her focus never left the guy in the temple.
She, the goddess of death was somehow infatuated by him.
If others knew about it, they would have mocked her for falling in love with a mortal.
Then the black-haired mortal did something unexpected, he stood up in the temple and looked at the sky.
Xeztia raised her brows at his actions. "He is looking at me? Not possible, he is just a mortal, how could he peek at the realm of gods from such a distance?"
However, his next actions made her eyes open wide.
"No...!" She yelled finally, not under the pain of the weapons piercing into her body, but by the actions of her follower.
"What are you doing?!" She yelled trying to stop him, however, how could her voice reach him, realms apart?
The black hair follower on the other hand took out a knife from his pocket, he looked at the goddess with a smile on his face.
Then his lips moved and formulated some words.
"Take your revenge..." He whispered and moved towards her statue in the temple.
Slicing his wrist apart, he poured his blood on the statue.
"Oh... Goddess of death, take the humble soul as my last gift, I hope you remember me... I hope you forgive me..."
A suction force suddenly revolved around the guy and sucked his soul out.
