Chapter 526: Chapter 526

Ra’s roar of fury shook the heavens themselves, his solar disk flaring with such intensity that the sky turned white hot for miles in every direction. The sun god’s falcon head turned skyward, his golden eyes reflecting both rage and a weariness that ran deeper than mortal comprehension.

"Thoth," he whispered, the name carrying millennia of shared wisdom and counsel. Then his voice erupted into divine thunder. "THEY KILLED THOTH!"

The remaining gods on the bark’s deck flinched at their master’s fury. Ra’s feathers bristled with solar fire as he wheeled to face them, his beak clicking with barely contained violence.

"Erasing Apep from existence drained me more than I care to admit," Ra said, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. "That serpent was my eternal nemesis for good reason—destroying something so fundamentally opposed to my nature required more power than any of you can comprehend. I need time to recover through my followers’ prayers and the sun’s blaze if I want to unleash true devastation upon our enemies." Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on 𝗻𝗼𝘷𝗲𝗹•𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮•𝕟𝕖𝕥

His golden eyes blazed brighter. "But I still have enough strength to counter this construct, and my power grows with each passing moment. The sun feeds me, and soon I will be ready to end this."

Ra’s gaze swept over his remaining pantheon. "Khnum! Mafdet! Hathor! Get below and stop those demons before they destroy my vessel entirely. They think slaying Thoth makes them gods’ equals—show them how wrong they are."

The three gods moved with divine purpose toward the maintenance hatches, their forms radiating deadly intent.

Deep in the bark’s engine room, Luna’s emerald flames danced with savage satisfaction. Around them, broken machinery sparked and hissed where their continued sabotage had torn apart critical systems.

"More are coming," Garduck said, his massive sword gleaming with divine blood. His silver hair was matted with sweat and ichor, but his green eyes burned with newfound confidence. "Three of them this time."

Luna’s serpentine flames coiled around her like living armor. "Good. Let them come."

They had become something new in these narrow corridors—predators who hunted gods. Each divine death had fed their confidence, their power, their understanding of their own potential. They were becoming exactly what Adam had promised they could be: god slayers.

Khnum arrived first, the ram-headed god’s pottery wheel spinning beside him as he shaped clay into divine warriors. His eyes widened as he saw Thoth’s corpse sprawled across the machinery, golden blood still pooling beneath the shattered form.

Garduck’s blade took his head clean off before he could finish the threat. The ram-god’s skull bounced off a gear assembly, his divine potter’s wheel shattering against the metal floor in a cascade of clay fragments.

Above them, Ra felt the death like a physical blow. His trusted craftsman, the one who had shaped humanity itself from Nile clay, was gone. "Khnum," he breathed, his solar fire dimming for a moment before blazing back to full fury.

Mafdet came next, the cheetah goddess moving with predatory grace through the machinery. Her claws were divine bronze, capable of cutting through any armor, and her spotted coat rippled with divine speed. She had been the protector against serpents and scorpions since the dawn of time—surely these demons would fall to her ancient expertise.

Luna met her in a whirlwind of emerald fire. The cheetah goddess was fast, faster than mortal eyes could follow, but Luna had grown. Her serpents of flame matched Mafdet’s speed, coiling around the goddess’s limbs while Luna drove her own claws deep into divine flesh.

Mafdet’s final snarl echoed through the chamber as demonic fire consumed her spotted form. Her bronze claws clattered to the metal floor, their divine edge dimming as her essence fled.

"MAFDET!" Ra’s anguish carried the weight of eons. The protector goddess, his faithful guardian against chaos, was gone.

Hathor, goddess of love and music, approached more cautiously. Her cow-horned head was crowned with a solar disk that mirrored Ra’s own, and her sistrum rattled with divine music that could heal or harm. She had seen what happened to the others, had witnessed these demons’ strength. But she was motherhood incarnate, the fierce protector of all Ra held dear.

The battle was fierce and brutal. Hathor’s sistrum created waves of divine sound that cracked metal and demon bone alike, each note precisely tuned to cause maximum damage. Her maternal fury filled the chamber as she fought to avenge her fallen companions, using every advantage the terrain offered.

But Luna and Garduck fought like a pair of apex predators now. Where one was pressured, the other flanked. Where one was wounded, the other covered. Garduck’s massive strength created openings that Luna’s serpentine speed exploited without mercy.

Hathor’s final song took Garduck through the shoulder, a harmonic lance that pinned him against a massive gear. She raised her sistrum for the killing blow—only to find Luna’s largest fire serpent waiting in her blind spot. The goddess of love died with her instrument half-raised, emerald flames consuming her divine essence from within.

Ra’s third scream shattered windows throughout his vessel. Hathor—his beloved, his maternal aspect, the one who had brought joy to countless mortals—was dead. Three of his most trusted companions, gone in the span of minutes.

On the sand below, Monument One felt each drop of divine ichor as it seeped through the bark’s hull and fell to the desert floor. The construct’s core pulsed brighter with each death, its mechanical frame growing more defined as divine essence fed its power.

Atop his city’s walls, Ozymandias watched the golden blood pool at his creation’s feet. The pharaoh’s features remained impassive, but satisfaction gleamed in his ancient eyes.

"The demons exceed even my expectations," he murmured, watching as Monument One’s frame grew larger, more imposing.

The construct’s gear-driven heart beat faster now, its rhythm no longer mechanical but something approaching organic. Divine blood was the finest fuel, and it had consumed plenty.

"Tear this bark to shreds," Ozymandias commanded, his voice carrying absolute authority.

Monument One’s response was immediate and devastating. Its pulsing core flared with blinding light as every system, every weapon, every enhancement came online simultaneously. The construct’s massive frame straightened to its full height, towering over the desert like a mechanical mountain.

Steam erupted from vents along its arms as hydraulic systems pressurised beyond their design limits. The dimensional khopesh in its right hand blazed with energy that warped space around its edge. Its left hand closed into a fist that could crush pyramids.

For the first time since the battle began, Monument One fought without restraint.

Its first blow struck Ra’s bark with enough force to crack the divine vessel’s hull. Golden light bled from the wound like divine ichor as the sun god’s ship took damage that should have been impossible.

The construct’s khopesh carved reality itself, opening dimensional rifts that bypassed the bark’s defenses entirely. Its fists hammered against the vessel’s underside, each impact sending shock waves through the divine machinery that Luna and Garduck had spent so much effort sabotaging.

Above them all, Ra felt his vessel—his perfect, eternal vessel—begin to buckle under assault. The sun god’s fury reached new heights as he realised that his hunt had become something far more dangerous.

This was no longer about stopping rebels or maintaining order.

This was a war for the very survival of divine authority itself.