When I returned to the sect from my travels, all I found of my master was a heap of ruined flesh.

Every bone in his body was gone. My senior brothers and sisters were nowhere to be found.

The Matron Acevedo sat before his corpse, her aged voice calling out to me.

"Lynara, your master traded his life for every disciple's ascension. You should go report to the divine realm too."

Only then did I learn the truth. The Sovereign of the Heavens, ruler of all realms, had needed immortal bones to forge a celestial body for his mortal wife. He'd chosen my master, the one with the strongest spiritual affinity.

In exchange for allowing every disciple of the Dawnveil Sect to ascend, he had ripped every bone and sinew from my master's body.

I've had a flaw for as long as I can remember. I don't cry. I don't laugh. The whole sect called me cold-blooded.

Now, staring at the mangled remains of the man who had saved my life and raised me as his own daughter, I was still calm.

"Matron, did Master agree to this willingly?"

Her eyes reddened instantly.

"Aldric Voss is the last god in existence. What he says goes. We never had a choice."

I gave a quiet "oh."

"If Master didn't agree to it willingly, then Aldric Voss deserves to die."

The Matron seized my arm, her voice tight with worry. "Lynara, before your master drew his last breath, he told all of you to take care of yourselves. Don't throw your life away picking a fight with a god."

I pulled my wrist free, lifted my gaze toward the Nine Heavens, and smiled faintly.

"Matron, Master said not to fight a god. He never said anything about killing one."

——

I turned and walked back to my courtyard. Without a word, I dropped to my knees and began digging through the soil beneath the spirit-blossom tree with my bare hands.

Before long, a short sword caked in dirt saw daylight again.

The Matron rushed after me and snatched the blade from my grip, tears brimming in her eyes.

"Lynara, I know you want to avenge your master."

"But Aldric Voss is a primordial god. With this unremarkable little sword, you cannot defeat him."

"Please don't throw your life away for nothing."

"Your master said it himself. Trading one life for the future of every disciple in the sect was worth it."

But I knew Master was lying.

One look at the wreckage strewn across the Dawnveil Sect told the whole story. The moment Aldric killed him, every last disciple had followed the god away without hesitation.

Not a single one stayed behind to bury him.

For a pack of disciples that heartless, did Master truly believe it was worth it?

Faced with my silence, the Matron's eyes grew redder still.

But she was terrified I would do something reckless, so she swallowed her own tears and forced a smile.

"Lynara, you came back, didn't you? As long as you remember your master, that's enough."

Desperate to smother the hatred in my heart, she hurried into the kitchen and brought out a pot still faintly warm with steam.

"Lynara, our Dawnveil Sect is small. We don't have the power. Let's not talk about revenge."

"Look. Your master stewed this pigeon soup for you right before he died."

"He said you must have suffered on the road. You were already too thin, he said. You needed to eat properly."

I reached out and touched the dried blood crusted on the side of the pot. My face showed nothing. "Was Master making me soup when he died?"

The Matron's hands trembled. Her voice cracked further.

"Yes. He was watching the pot. He was afraid it would turn bitter if it stewed too long."

"He said you hate anything sour or bitter."

I thought to myself, that foolish old man. He died without ever realizing I'd been lying to him.

I never actually minded sour or bitter things.

I just hated taking medicine.

When Master first found me, I was badly wounded. My health never fully recovered after that, and I needed medicine constantly just to stay alive.

It drove me mad. Every now and then I'd dump the doses in secret.

When Master caught on, he bought sour jujubes to coax me, saying that if I ate one first, the medicine wouldn't taste so bitter.

I didn't want to cooperate, so I told him offhandedly that I didn't like anything sour or bitter.

Even though I could never win against Master's relentless coaxing, I still obediently took my medicine for six years. But he kept those words of mine close to his heart.

After I recovered, nothing sour or bitter ever appeared on my dinner table again.

I took the pot from Matron Thornwell's hands and, as if I couldn't feel the scalding heat, drank half the soup in one long gulp.

The remaining half I poured out beside Master's body.

I wiped my mouth. "Not bad, old man. But the blood mixed in makes it a little fishy."

"Have a taste yourself. Pay attention next time you make it."

That was what finally shattered Matron Thornwell's composure.

The tears she had held back for so long broke free all at once.

"Lynara, there won't be a next time. Your master is dead!"

Oh, right. There wouldn't be a next time.

Fine. Since Master couldn't look after me anymore, it was my turn to protect him for once.

I unfastened the cloak Master had sewn for me with his own hands and draped it over his body. My voice was calm. "Matron, watch over Master. Don't bury him."

"He'd be too lonely by himself. I'll find him some company for the grave."

Matron Thornwell couldn't stop me. All she could do was weep and beg me to come back alive.

I carried my short sword and walked to the Nine Heavens.

The Jade Stairway crumbled to dust behind me, and the whole celestial realm shook to its foundations.

Celestial soldiers rushed forward, blocking me outside the Celestial Gate.

The one leading them was none other than my senior brother from the Dawnveil Sect, Master's proudest disciple: Edwin Ellison.

He stared at me in surprise, brow furrowed. "Lynara, if you've come to seek the Sovereign's favor, you should keep your head down and your voice low."

"What's the point of making such a scene?"

I didn't bother looking at him. My eyes stayed fixed on the Celestial Gate. "Tell Aldric Voss to come out."

"Tell him an old friend has come to visit."

Edwin let out a weary sigh.

"Lynara, have you lost your mind?"

"We're mere mortals. If not for this stroke of fortune, how could we ever have ascended to immortality and stood before the Sovereign?"

"'An old friend.' You're not embarrassed to say that out loud?"

Only then did I turn to look at Edwin, each word falling like a stone. "You call Master's death a stroke of fortune?"

Edwin faltered. A flicker of guilt surfaced in his eyes.

Rosalind Adams, the second disciple, had just arrived. She rushed to Edwin's defense the moment she saw his expression.

"Lynara, how dare you speak to Edwin that way?"

"Master's death wasn't our doing."

"If you want to blame someone, blame Master for being born with celestial bones. We simply seized the opportunity that presented itself."

Looking at Rosalind's face, utterly devoid of remorse, all I felt was that Master had never been worth the love he gave them.

Edwin and Rosalind were the first disciples Master ever took in.

He treated them no differently than he treated me.

He poured every ounce of his heart into raising them, even putting off having children of his own.

That was why, after all those years, Master and Matron Thornwell never had a child by blood.

Matron Thornwell would grumble about it from time to time, but that foolish old man would just laugh and wave it off. "It's fine. I trust my disciples. When the day comes, they'll see us properly buried."

He was wrong, in the end.

But I knew that foolish old man.

He believed, to his last breath, that people were born good. Whenever his disciples made mistakes, he always gave them a chance to make things right.

I never agreed with that. But I didn't want him to die with his eyes open, restless and unsettled.

So I did what Master would have done. I gave Edwin and Rosalind one chance.

"I'll handle avenging Master myself. I don't need your help."

"Go back to the Dawnveil Sect now. Stay with Master and Matron Thornwell."

"Carry on Master's legacy. Make the sect flourish."

Rosalind had been spoiled rotten by Master since she was a child, and her temper was as foul as they came.

The second she caught the commanding tone in my voice, her face soured.

She shoved me, her voice shaking with fury. "Lynara, who do you think you are?"

"How dare you speak to your senior brother and sister like that?!"

Edwin stepped between us, his expression the picture of composed reason. "Lynara, don't be rash."

"The Dawnveil Sect was always a small, unremarkable sect. Master spent his entire life trying to make it flourish and never could. What chance would we have?"

"Besides, all of us have ascended to immortality now. Isn't that a glory the sect can be proud of?"

He reached out and took hold of my arm.

"Come now, be good. I'll take you to see the Sovereign. I'll make sure you get a fine celestial rank..."

But before the last word left his mouth, my short sword was already buried in his chest.

Edwin never even had time to react. He crumpled to the ground, eyes wide and glassy, dead before he hit the stone.

Every celestial soldier in the vicinity went rigid with shock. Blades sang free of their sheaths, all pointed at me.

Rosalind stumbled back two steps, her face white. "Lynara, what kind of cursed thing are you holding?!"

She asked because Edwin had already ascended. Immortal energy shielded his body.

An ordinary weapon couldn't have come within a foot of him.

So in her mind, my blade had to be something unholy.

I raised the short sword, letting the light catch its edge. My voice was flat and cold. "Cursed? No demon is worthy of wielding this."

"But you'll find out what it is soon enough."

I crouched beside Edwin's body and used the blade to carve out his heart.

"Since our dear senior brother had no heart to speak of, his heart's blood might as well serve a better purpose. A blood offering for my sword."

"Lynara, you vicious monster!"

Rosalind's eyes went red with rage. She summoned her weapon and lunged at me.

But at the critical moment, a celestial soldier beside her seized her arm and hauled her back, his hand trembling as he pointed at the sword hovering above Edwin's corpse.

"Lady Rosalind, look. Your junior sister's sword... something's wrong with it. It's drinking the blood on its own."

Rosalind didn't care. She scoffed. "Cursed objects never play by the rules. What's so strange about that?"

The soldier shook his head frantically. "No, you don't understand. You've only just ascended."

"In all the millennia since creation, there has only ever been one sword that craves the heart's blood of immortals..."

Rosalind blinked, clueless. "What sword?"

The soldier's lips trembled around two words: "Soulreaper."

Rosalind's jaw dropped. The color drained from her face.

But before she could gather her wits, a voice split the air from the void above, heavy with authority that needed no anger to terrify.

"Silence!"

"I destroyed that demon goddess with my own hands. Soulreaper was shattered by my power. It no longer exists."

"You will not spread such baseless fear!"

I knew that voice. I knew it the way you know the sound of your own heartbeat. Aldric Voss. My enemy for as long as I had drawn breath.

And the one who had wounded me deepest of all.

He was right about one thing. I was the demon goddess he claimed to have destroyed.

I was also the only other true god who had escaped the Primordial Wastes alongside him, the only one who had survived the cataclysm.

The year the Wastes were annihilated, the two of us had nowhere left to go. We set aside our enmity out of necessity, clinging to each other to survive.

For thousands of years after that, Aldric treated me well.

Demon gods are born cold-blooded. He was the one who taught me how to cry and how to laugh.

Under his guidance, I slowly learned to live in the world beyond the Wastes.

So when he told me he wanted to take me to the Nine Heavens, that he would look after me for the rest of my life, I agreed without a second thought.

Three thousand years as husband and wife. Every one of them devoted. Every one of them tender.

Until Aldric met a mortal woman, and everything veered off course.

That woman was Elara, the one he now called his wife.

Elara was flesh and bone, purely mortal. She could not set foot in the Nine Heavens. The only way was to replace the mortal essence inside her body with celestial energy, or with the power of a god or demon.

Aldric searched every corner of the Nine Heavens and found no justification to take what he needed from anyone else.