ZORAKTH: ETERNAL WAR

ZORAKTH — CHAPTER 15 Title: Goal

The Prime Anvil’s heartbeat grew louder. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Each strike of sound rattled Zorakth’s bones, as if the forge itself was impatient for what came next.

Gauay’s colossal form stood over him, her molten-gold eyes fixed on the half-forged weapon in his grip. The blade’s black steel pulsed faintly, veins of gold racing along it like living lightning. It wasn’t complete — but it was hungry.

“Place it upon the Anvil,” Gauay commanded.

Zorakth stepped forward, each stride heavy under the forge’s oppressive heat. He laid the blade across the meteor-black surface. The moment it touched, the weapon thrummed, and the air around him warped — as though reality was holding its breath.

“This final step will not be a trial,” Gauay said. “It will be a bargain.”

He frowned. “With who?”

“With yourself.”

The hammer above lowered until its shadow swallowed him whole. Flames erupted from the forge’s streams of molten metal, spiraling upward in blinding columns. Through the fire, visions swam before his eyes: the faces of gods, smirking, taunting, their divine thrones drenched in the blood of mortals.

One voice rose above the rest. Cold. Mocking. Familiar.

You are still nothing, Zorakth.

Revid. The god who had broken him once before.

The forge’s fire surged higher, and the voice in his head shifted to Gauay’s. State your Goal.

He closed his eyes. “To kill every god who has ever existed. To burn their realms to ash. To make the divine fear the mortal.”

The forge reacted instantly. The flames turned black, the air shivered, and the hammer began to move.

The first strike came down.

The weapon screamed. So did Zorakth — not from pain, but from the force of what was happening inside him. The Infinity Aura surged like a tidal wave, flooding his veins with light and shadow intertwined. He could feel it — every breath becoming a weapon, every heartbeat a drumbeat of war.

The second strike fell.

The black and gold steel blazed white-hot, its form sharpening with each heartbeat. In the glow, he saw fragments of the future — gods kneeling in fear, skies split in half, oceans turned to steam.

The third strike came.

The Infinity Aura exploded outward, a storm of shifting colors swirling around him. Time stuttered, space warped, and for an instant, he saw all possible versions of himself — victor, corpse, tyrant, savior — all converging into one.

When the flames finally receded, the forge was silent.

In his hand was the weapon.

It was unlike any blade ever forged — longer than a greatsword but lighter than air, its black edge absorbing light while veins of gold pulsed like molten rivers within. The shard of Gauay’s horn was now the heart of the weapon, its runes glowing faintly. The hilt was wrapped in hide so cold it bit into his palm, yet the blade itself radiated heat.

“Name it,” Gauay said.

Zorakth didn’t hesitate. “Godbane.”

The moment the name left his lips, the Infinity Aura flared to its full strength, wrapping him in a shimmering vortex of power. It wasn’t just light — it was the weight of all creation bending to his will.

Gauay’s form began to fade, her task complete. “Your goal is clear. But know this — every god in existence felt your blade’s birth. They will hunt you. They will fear you. And they will not stop.”

“Good,” he said, sheathing Godbane across his back. “Let them come.”

The chamber trembled violently. Chains snapped above, and the great hammer crashed into the anvil, shattering both into fragments of black and gold. The Prime Anvil was gone — and with it, the last neutral ground between him and the gods.

The forge’s light dimmed, replaced by the cold expanse of a moonlit plateau. He stood alone now, the world quiet… too quiet.

Until the sky split.

A rift tore open above, spilling divine light onto the land. Through it stepped a figure — ten feet tall, clad in armor made of starlight, carrying a spear that burned brighter than the sun.

One of the gods.

They spoke in a voice like rolling thunder. “Zorakth, son of the rejected. You have made your goal known. By the decree of the Celestial Council, your existence ends here.”

Zorakth reached over his shoulder and drew Godbane. The Infinity Aura shimmered, bending the air around him. “Then you’ll be the first to fail.”

The god lunged. Zorakth met them head-on. The first clash of steel rang like a war drum that would never stop.

And so the hunt began.

The plateau shook under the god’s charge.

Their spear was a beam of burning starlight, trailing shards of comets as it cut through the night air.

Zorakth didn’t move until the last possible moment. His left foot shifted a fraction, his eyes locked on the weapon’s tip. The Infinity Aura rippled around him, and the world slowed.

To the god, it was an instant.

To Zorakth, it was eternity.

He stepped aside, letting the spear pass by a hair’s breadth, and swung Godbane in a smooth arc. The blade kissed the god’s armor — and for the first time in countless eons, divine steel screamed.

The god staggered back, looking at the thin black-and-gold line etched into their chestplate. Their voice was disbelief and fury combined. “Impossible.”

Zorakth smirked. “Get used to it.”

The god roared, the air splitting with the sound. They thrust again, faster this time, their spear leaving afterimages. Zorakth met each strike with Godbane, sparks cascading like meteors. Every clash felt like the collision of worlds — shockwaves tearing chunks from the plateau, splintering distant mountains.

But each time their weapons met, Godbane drank deeper. The blade’s golden veins pulsed faster, hungrier.

“You think you can kill me?” the god spat, stepping back to hurl a bolt of starfire from their palm.

Zorakth didn’t dodge. He raised Godbane and let the Infinity Aura flare. The bolt hit — and vanished. Absorbed.

The god froze for half a heartbeat. That was all Zorakth needed.

He lunged.

The Aura twisted reality around him — one step became ten, the distance collapsing until he was face-to-face with the god. Godbane came down in a vertical s***h, splitting the air with a sound that wasn’t sound at all, but the tearing of existence.

The god caught the blade with their spear, but the effort drove them to one knee. Their armor cracked further, fragments of starlight bleeding away.

“Who are you?” the god snarled.

Zorakth leaned in, voice low. “Your ending.”

He pivoted, driving his knee into the god’s chest, forcing them back. The Infinity Aura flared again, colors spiraling — black, gold, and something infinite, beyond mortal sight. It wasn’t just energy. It was inevitability.

The god rose into the air, summoning rings of light that spun around them, each filled with ancient runes. “Then face the judgment of the stars!”

The sky opened, and meteors rained down. The ground erupted in fire and light, shockwaves flattening everything for miles.

When the dust cleared, the plateau was gone. In its place was a crater so deep it swallowed the moonlight.

At the center of it stood Zorakth. Unburned. Unbroken. Godbane rested across his shoulders, the Infinity Aura spiraling lazily around him.

He looked up at the hovering god. “My turn.”

In a blink, he was gone. Reappearing behind them. Godbane slashed once, twice, three times — each cut leaving black-and-gold scars across their form. The god screamed, their divine flesh unraveling where the blade had touched.

They swung desperately, but Zorakth caught the spear’s shaft, wrenched it from their hands, and hurled it into the void.

“No weapon can stop Godbane,” he said, stepping forward.

The god tried to retreat, but the Infinity Aura warped space — no matter how they moved, Zorakth was always a step closer. Panic flickered in their eyes for the first time.

“This is the fate of every god,” Zorakth growled.

Godbane pierced their chest.

The divine scream shook the sky. Their body convulsed, light spilling from the wound, but the blade drank it greedily. The golden veins flared blindingly as the god’s essence flowed into it.

When it was over, the towering form collapsed, armor shattering into stardust, flesh dissolving into motes of light. All that remained was silence… and Godbane’s glow, now deeper, richer — heavier with the weight of its first kill.

Zorakth stood over the fading remnants, breathing steadily. The Infinity Aura still burned around him, but now it was steadier, as if it had settled into him completely.

He looked at the stars above, knowing the others were watching.

“One down,” he said. “Countless to go.”

Somewhere far above, in the Celestial Council’s grand hall, gods shifted uncomfortably. For the first time in millennia, they felt something alien to their kind.

Fear.

And Zorakth smiled.