Chronos’ expression shifted as he rose from his throne.
“I wanted to be the strongest in this universe,” he said calmly. “I believed the Gatekeeper was the greatest obstacle on my path. But I was wrong.” His gaze fixed on Arlen. “It was your potential. And the acceptance in your eyes.”
He took a step forward.
“You returned from certain death again and again. You overcame your trauma. You even let go of your emotions. It seems you are my natural enemy, God Slayer.”
His eyes flickered briefly toward Chloe’s lifeless body. “It is a shame I could not save the angel so devoted to me.”
Then his voice hardened.
“So I declare this now—I will not sit upon the Throne of Time until I am certain you are dead. Come. Face me, God Slayer.”
Borrower’s Will manifested in his hand.
Before the battle could begin, Cornea spoke sharply, her voice cutting through the tension.
“Enough with the act. I know Vulcan and Phantas are hiding nearby. You boast about strength, yet you cannot fight without hidden allies. Coward.”
Chronos’ expression did not change.
“You speak of fairness,” he replied coldly, “yet you arrived in a group to kill me.”
He lifted his gaze toward Arlen. “Very well. I will fight alone—if the God Slayer faces me alone.”
Cornea started to protest. “That’s—”
“Very well.”
Arlen stepped forward.
At that moment, Vulcan and Phantas emerged from hiding behind Chronos.
Arlen turned his head slightly. “Termina. Mnemos. Barys. Aeon.” His voice was steady. “Take care of those two. Do not hesitate to kill them.”
Then, without looking back, he added, “Cornea, stand back.”
He faced Chronos once more, raising his blades.
“Well then, Chronos. You want me dead?”
His eyes burned with resolve.
“Come and get me.”
And the destructive fight began.
The four external gods clashed with Chronos’ two hidden allies.
It was a brutal battle—but four against two meant the outcome was already decided.
Yet compared to what unfolded at the centre of the domain, their struggle felt like a child’s scuffle.
Borrower’s Will roared as Chronos unleashed a relentless barrage of attacks.
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Arlen answered with his greatest strength—the three-god form
Chronos swung an ice blade, which met Raikiri head-on.
“That’s impressive,” he said calmly. “Why didn’t you use this last time?”
“This power has a time limit,” Arlen replied, deflecting another strike. “And it’s just a cheaper copy of the originals. That’s why I was uncertain before.”
Chronos nodded.
Their hands and feet never stopped moving, yet their exchange felt eerily calm—like a conversation over tea rather than a duel between a god and the god slayer. From the sidelines, Cornea could only watch.
“You’ve grown stronger,” Chronos said. “Is it because you’ve shed your emotions—just like me?”
A judgment arrow fired from Borrower’s Will.
Arlen released his own—borrowed from Nomos’ blood. The two collided midair.
“Maybe,” Arlen said. “But let me ask you something. What made shed your emotions?”
Chronos’ voice did not waver.
“I believed myself to be the strongest. But even the strongest cannot overcome betrayal. Ianthe, whom I loved. Mortis, whom I trusted. They all betrayed me. That is why I chose to abandon emotion.”
Arlen’s eyes narrowed.
“Really? You let go of your emotions?” He pressed forward. “Then what about your hunger to be the strongest? Let me guess—it came from envy. Envy toward your big sister from when you were young. The one who received all the praise while no one acknowledged you as a child.”
Bullseye – Arlen’s guess was perfect, too perfect for the god of time to ignore.
Chronos’ hands froze midair.
Arlen seized the opening, dashing forward as Soul Eater drove toward Chronos’ chest—
—or so it seemed.
The blade missed.
“What—”
Realization struck instantly.
“So you finally decided to use your time power,” Arlen said. “You paused time and moved away at the last moment?”
Chronos straightened.
“Yes. It seems holding back against you is not an option.” His aura intensified. “I will go all out.”
And in that instant, the already brutal fight became something far worse—
a battle that now seemed impossible for Arlen to win.
When time paused, Arlen paused with it.
But Chronos did not.
He couldn’t hold the pause for long—but even an instant was enough. Enough to dodge. Enough to counter. Enough to turn a killing blow into survival.
Arlen didn’t scream. He pulled back, kept his distance, and continued pressing forward. His senses were sharpened to their limit, predicting every strike aimed at his vitals.
“You’re not rewinding time,” Arlen said calmly. “Guess that means you can’t use it often—or it drains too much energy.”
Another bullseye.
Chronos’ composure began to crack.
Rage surged.
Chronos decided to end it.
His golden eye blazed. The clock embedded in his robes began to rotate in reverse. Rewinding time meant certainty—he would know Arlen’s next move before it happened. A guaranteed strike to his vitals.
And this time, there was no Nyx.
No Dryas.
No one to save him, heal him, regenerate his wounds.
“It’s your end—”
But Arlen smiled.
“Now is the time,” he said softly. “Come out.”
Time rewound.
Chronos’ blade surged forward—
—but it didn’t strike Arlen.
It pierced the goddess of space who just emerged from a portal instead.
Bound by her promise, Astrea had answered his call. The blade buried itself deep into her stomach.
Chronos froze.
“Good job,” Arlen said coldly, “for bringing my new relic. But your main job was being a sacrificial lamb, Astrea.”
Chronos’ hands trembled as Borrower’s Will slipped from his grasp.
“Sister—”
Soul Eater struck from behind her.
It impaled both
the god of space and the god of time in a single thrust.
The Anchor of Causality flared—its power igniting, invalidating any attempt to rewind time
Chronos died in despair.
In the end, he never could have truly shed his emotions.
His love for his big sister—his hesitation—became the cause of his downfall.
He couldn’t even finish his dying words.
“Just like you killed Dryas,” Arlen said, licking the blood from his blade,
“your time ends here, Chronos.”
