Karta clicked her tongue and shook her head. She was a petty dog, and she enjoyed watching people who were better off than her struggle, but even she couldn’t help but feel a bit of empathy for Gravitat. The poor god…. Karta shook her head again and sighed. She stared at the struggling god of gravity with a pitiful expression on her face. Gravitat was doing his best to survive, but it was simply too unfair.
“Vremya! If you kill me, who will defend the frontlines against the titans!?”
“That’s not my problem,” Vremya said. He was standing in the void with his arms crossed over his chest, overlooking Gravitat as the god of gravity fought Grandpa Vremya, who was wearing Pravos as a living armor. Pravos was pursuing Gravitat with a sword made of spiritual energy, jabbing at him every so often. Currently, time was frozen, and only Vremya, Gravitat, Pravos, Karta, and Grandpa Vremya could move. Vremya had to make sure Gravitat wouldn’t be able to call for help, and what better way to do that then to temporarily pause everything? However, because of that action, he couldn’t directly freeze Gravitat and have Grandpa Vremya kill him. Although it’d be easy to stop time and stab Gravitat until he was a bloody, pulpy mass of flesh and bone, there was no guarantee the god of gravity would die. If he managed to survive and warn Istoriya immediately after time unfroze, that’d be quite unfortunate. As such, Vremya chose the safer option. Although that would lead to more suffering on Gravitat’s part, the god of gravity was going to die soon, so Vremya didn’t really take his opinion into consideration.
Currently, Gravitat was fleeing, but it didn’t matter where he went. No one could help him in his current situation, not even Istoriya. Just like how Vremya couldn’t escape from Gravitat’s black hole without the help of a godly avatar, Gravitat couldn’t escape from Vremya’s frozen time unless he had an avatar of time waiting around somewhere. However, no god had an avatar of time. Kosmos had made sure of that when she established the temple of time. Anyone mortal who got close to reaching the peak through the laws of time were forcibly recruited into her temple, and anyone who didn’t join was killed.
There was literally nothing Gravitat could do to get himself out of his current situation. He tried using black holes, but they were forcibly exploded by Grandpa Vremya. Gravitat tried attracting Pravos away from him, pulling her away through gravity, but he was under Grandpa Vremya’s gravitational force. When Pravos moved away, Gravitat was pulled along with her. Gravitat tried begging, but Vremya was too petty to forgive being isolated in darkness for a whole year. If he still had access to the outside world, it would’ve been fine because he could’ve amused himself through some forums, but that wasn’t the case. As such, Vremya sentenced Gravitat to death.
Grandpa Vremya slowly whittled away at Gravitat with his spiritual energy. A god’s body was tough, but as proven by the titans, they weren’t impossible to kill. However, it would take an extremely long amount of time for them to die if they were only being attacked by spiritual energy. As such, nearly a billion years passed before Gravitat succumbed to his wounds. Of course, it was only a billion years to Vremya and the rest; not even a single instant had passed since the group of gods had escaped from the black hole.
“You’ll regret this,” Gravitat said. He lay on his back, floating in the void, staring Vremya in the eyes as he spoke. “The domain of gravity isn’t a blessing. It’s a curse. From now on, you or your avatar shall forever be trapped, holding the endless wave of titans back until someone takes care of you like you took care of me.”
“Don’t lump me together with the likes of you,” Vremya said and snorted. “Why would I bother blocking the titans? Times change. People adapt. If they don’t, they die. Everything is a cycle, and I’ve seen it all.”
Gravitat could only shake his head in reply. Then, his eyes glazed over, and a rainbow-colored mist rose out of his body. Vremya turned towards Pravos. “You should take it.”
Pravos’ eyes widened. “You’re giving me Gravitat’s divinity?” she asked. With the strength of the god of gravity, wouldn’t she be able to uphold justice anywhere as long as the injustice didn’t originate from Vremya? This was practically like a dream come true!
“Not you,” a deep voice said from inside of Pravos. The god of justice squirmed and yelped as her back split open. Grandpa Vremya wriggled out of her body, shedding her like a molting spider. He waved his hand, and a black hole appeared near the rainbow mist, sucking it in. “This is obviously meant for me.”
Pravos groaned and wiggled, her stretched out flesh and bones slowly snapping back into place. It didn’t take long for her to return to how she looked previously, but her face looked more haggard than before. She glared at Grandpa Vremya as he absorbed Gravitat’s divinity the same way he absorbed the destiny fruit. However, as a god with a non-combative domain, the only thing she could do was watch as her ticket to resolving all injustices was snatched away by Grandpa Vremya.
Karta cleared her throat. “Uh, hey,” she said. “If your avatar absorbs Gravitat’s divinity, doesn’t that make him a god? How are you going to deal with Istoriya now that your avatar can’t hurt him?”
Grandpa Vremya paused mid-absorption. He glanced at Vremya, and the two identical figures turned towards Karta at the same time. “Why didn’t you stop me earlier?” Grandpa Vremya asked. He already absorbed half of Gravitat’s divinity, and that was enough to qualify him as a god. After a moment, he shook his head and absorbed the rest. What was done was done. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I already know of someone who can help. With the Pravos-armor method, anyone with a long-enough lifespan can kill a god.”
“Don’t label your disturbing method with my name!”
Azalea sat in front of two sarcophaguses deep within a tomb. They belonged to her parents; while she was able to become a soul-seed cultivator, her parents weren’t able to pass the boundary of nascent soul. As such, their thousand-year-long lifespan had ended while Grandpa Vremya was still in seclusion as a soul-seed cultivator. She had already come to terms with her parents’ deaths all those years ago, but she found herself here today because the pillar she relied on for nearly her whole life had disappeared after absorbing a fruit. The four phoegons were keeping her company, their eyes open and their mouths shut, curiously looking around but not saying anything.
Azalea sighed and stood up. Moping around wouldn’t accomplish anything. If she wanted to see Grandpa Vremya again, then she’d have to break through the soul-seed stage, pass four tribulations, and wait for a destiny fruit before ascending. How long would that take? Would she even succeed? The moment she walked out of the Frostwind Empire’s royal tomb, an oppressive force bore down on her, causing her spiritual energy to automatically flare up in response. Was a false immortal targeting her!?
Space was torn open, and a hand made of energy grabbed her and the phoegons without even giving her a chance to react. The hand withdrew, pulling Azalea through the gap it had made. Her vision turned upside down and inside out. Her organs felt like they were hosting a battle royale within her body, and her skin flapped loosely on her flesh as if it no longer wanted to be there. Less than a second later, the disorienting sensation disappeared, and Azalea found herself standing in a room with a naked old man, a dressed old man, a black dog, and a depressed woman. “Vremya!?” she asked. Why were there two Vremyas? “What’s going on?”
Grandpa Vremya glanced around, but no one volunteered to explain. It seemed like he’d have to do it. “Here’s the situation….”