Light exploded from his hand, blasting Vathar across the grove. The Dark Lord hit a tree hard enough to splinter it, coughing blood. Before he could rise, Eron was there again, raining blows on his face. Each one was faster, sharper, and more merciless than the last. The sound of fists striking flesh was wet and sickening, with Vathar’s cries growing weaker with every strike. He just laid there, and gave up. If death was what awaited him, then he'd just take it. It was better than living in the world, knowing Eron never truly loved him. Finally, Eron seized Vathar by the throat and lifted him into the air like a rag doll, sneering at his swollen face. “Tsk, this is boring.” Eron let him drop and Vathar’s body fell to the floor with a wet thud, blood spilling from his face and onto the grass, unconscious.With a snap of his fingers, two gods appeared kneeling by his side. He glanced at the one on his left, a female with golden hair. “How is he doing, Nemyra?” Nemyra, the Spirit of
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