The Outergod's Avatar-Chapter 80: Flavius vs Verdant Destruction

Markis suddenly dived into the hole leading to the heart of the tree, just before the men kicked into action and stabbed themselves without hesitation.

The tempo of the battlefield shifted instantly. One second it was silent anticipation, the next — chaos. The brutal, synchronized action of the men, paired with Markis’s sudden disappearance, left the commander on edge. He didn’t move forward. He simply stood in place, his weapon drawn, eyes narrowed.

Izikel’s eyes remained wide open, as if they’d been glued like that. He couldn’t look away. He had just witnessed men — real people — drive blades straight into their own throats, some slicing clean across with expert precision. It was done with no hesitation, no sign of fear. Like it meant nothing. Like they were machines completing a task.

His heart pounded like a war drum, each beat echoing in his ears as he tried to make sense of what he had seen.

"Why... why would they do that?" His voice cracked, almost lost to the tension in the air. It was heartbreaking. Horrific. And yet...

What disturbed him even more was the cold realization gnawing at the back of his mind — he wasn’t as disturbed as he should be.

It felt like watching a twisted scene in a movie. One of those sudden, gut-punch plot twists. He didn’t feel sick. He didn’t cry. He didn’t even scream. He just... watched.

"Am I getting... used to this?" he muttered, barely audible.

"Izikel, are you okay?" Flavius’s voice cut through the tension.

"Y-yeah," he mumbled, though it was a lie even he didn’t bother to believe.

"Good. You have to get out of here now," Flavius instructed without looking back. "Find Sophia. Tell her to come find me as soon as possible."

Izikel nodded without thinking. His legs wanted to move, but something rooted him in place.

"Lyzah," he turned and tried to shake her awake, panic creeping into his movements. "Lyzah, we have to go."

She stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent as her eyes slowly blinked open.

"...leave the girl," Flavius added calmly, his voice unnervingly steady.

"Huh? Why?" Izikel turned to him, confused and suddenly alarmed.

Before an answer came, the earth trembled slightly. A giant red flower began to grow out from the gaping hole. Thick petals, layered with vein-like roots, unfurled rapidly, blooming into something unnatural. At its center was the upper body of a man — pale white skin, red markings tracing his face like tribal scars. His body appeared fused with the core of the flower, as if born from it.

It was Markis. But not the same man who dived into the tree moments ago.

His faded green hair was now more white than green, hanging down in graceful strands. His eyes glowed with unnatural brightness. His presence distorted the air around him. Small stones lifted from the ground and hovered before dropping again, like gravity itself bent in his favor.

It wasn’t just appearance — it was the overwhelming force of his aura. Powerful chaotic energy radiated from him like heat from a wildfire.

"Markis?" Flavius’s brow furrowed.

"Markis is no more," the creature declared with a sneer. "I am now the Deity of Verdant Destruction."

"You never understood what Altars truly are," he continued, voice echoing with layered tones — like more than one voice spoke at once. "They are not just meant to transfer energy from the gods. They can convert it, shape it and even store it."

"I used the Old Tree, to turn their souls into energy. Slowly and patiently. Over the years, I stored them. And now, I have consumed them all... Their verdant purity now flows within my soul. With their lives and their essence I can finally avenge all the Druids that was slain by the five kingdoms"

He raised both hands high as tendrils of energy swirled behind him like storm clouds. "With that, I have transcended mortality!"

"Now," he roared, "CRUMBLE before my overwhelming power!"

Vines exploded from the base of the flower, surging toward Flavius like a tidal wave of thorns. The vines didn’t care that children stood behind him. They struck without mercy.

Flavius didn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, he began to cut. Each vine that came at him was sliced cleanly, but more and more grew, multiplying faster than he could destroy them. They eventually overwhelmed him, smashing him back and sending him crashing into a tree.

"You see?" Markis bellowed. "Even the Almighty Silver Sword Saint is powerless before me!"

"Father?" Lyzah’s voice, soft and cracked with fear, broke the tension like a fragile bell ringing in a storm.

Markis twitched. For a brief second, something flickered behind his eyes. But the moment passed.

"Your father is dead, little girl," he replied coldly. "There is only Verdant Destruction now."

"I can feel them," he whispered, closing his eyes. "All their souls. Their power. It flows through me... like roots through soil."

"So this... this is why you only killed Druids," Flavius said, standing back up slowly. Blood ran down the side of his face, but he didn’t tremble. "You harvested the verdant energy in their souls."

Markis turned to look — but Flavius was gone.

He whirled around just in time to see him charging from the side, blade gleaming under the moonlight.

Flavius struck — but with just a small twist, Markis shifted his body and the blade missed. He retaliated with a powerful swipe, knocking Flavius through the air once more.

"I told you," Markis laughed, "I am no longer ordinary. I can face your blade without enchantment. I see it clearly now."

Spreading his arms wide, he laughed maniacally. "Is this what it feels like to be a god?!"

"God?" Flavius stood again, slower this time. His body bruised, armor cracked. Yet his eyes were sharp. "You think sacrificing the lives of others for power makes you a god?"

"You’re more deluded than I thought."

"Oh?" Markis smirked. "You don’t believe me? Then let me show you."

The ground around them quaked again. Tiny sprouts burst from the soil — growing fast, mutating into small twisted plant-like creatures. Their heads were large, their bodies small, jagged teeth snapping like wild beasts.

Hundreds of them.

They charged at Flavius in waves.

He cut through the first, but as it burst apart, it released a green substance — corrosive, burning through his clothes and eating into his skin.

Markis didn’t let up. More vines followed. More creatures. No rest. No breathing room. He attacked with everything — with rage, and with obsession.

Yet Flavius dodged. Parried. Endured.

The onslaught suddenly stopped.

Markis clenched his jaw, breathing tiredly "Tell me... how are you still this strong?"

Flavius smirked, wiping blood from his brow. "That’s not something a god should be asking a mortal."

"But fine. I’ll humor you. Since your abominable existence ends tonight."

He continued, slowly walking forward. "Just like everyone else, I have only one blessing. But mine requires almost no soul energy to use."

"So I learned to channel that energy into my body, reinforcing my movements, and sharpening my blade."

He raised his sword, a faint glow beginning to shimmer along its blade.

"That doesn’t make my blessing weak. In fact, it is by far the most dangerous one in the Argenthex family. And now... I’ll show you why."

He began to chant:

"O Silver goddess, veiled in night,

Still his breath and dim his sight.

Let moonlight bind his waking flame,

Till silent steel fulfills thy name."

He moved in a perfect, graceful arc, his sword tracing a wide circle through the air. Light trailed the blade, creating afterimages—like a dozen phantom swords dancing around him. When the arc completed, he stood still.

And Markis blinked in confusion.

Until he looked down.

Flavius stood before him, blade embedded deep into his chest.

Markis’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"W-what...?"

Flavius leaned in, voice calm.

"The Lunar moon doesn’t scream when it kills, Markis. It simply kills."