Timeless Assassin

Chapter 899: Chakravyuh Takes Hold

(Execution Livestream Continuation, ’The Pit’, Clarence & Terrence’s POV)

Clarence and Terrence were both Demi Gods sworn to the service of the Universal Government, however, that had not always been the case.

At the start, they were both warriors growing under the Cult’s fold, with enough talent in them to have a sliver of a chance at attaining true Godhood had fate allowed even the slightest deviation.

For at their core, they were both individuals with potential to someday establish Great Clans of their own.

However, unfortunately, that future had never been permitted to exist, as many centuries ago they had been hunted, suppressed, and cornered by the Universal Government itself, before being forced into submission through overwhelming force rather than diplomacy, until survival became synonymous with obedience.

In the end, they swore fealty to all three founding Gods of the Universal Government, binding their lives, power, and futures to an order they had once stood outside of, and one they had never been meant to challenge in the first place.

And in exchange, they were given the ingredients to the Demi God potion, as in return for selling their souls, they were granted the penultimate power.

Now, they stood behind the execution platform, positioned just beyond the inner sanctum, close enough to feel the layered pressure radiating from the seated Gods while remaining far enough away to be reminded of the unbridgeable gap between Demi Gods and true divinity.

They were not permitted to stand upon the execution stage itself, not alongside Kaelith, Helmuth, or Mauriss, nor beside Raymond, whose lineage alone granted him a position that loyalty, service, or spilled blood could never replace.

However, despite the disrespect, Clarence did not resent the exclusion, for he understood clearly and without illusion that hierarchy within the Universal Government was not built on merit or devotion, but on inevitability, bloodlines, and the simple truth that some beings were born closer to authority than others.

Terrence stood beside him in silence, posture relaxed yet ready, his senses stretched thin as he monitored the invisible boundary marking the innermost ring of the Chakravyuh formation, where dormant power waited for a single condition to be met.

Neither of them spoke, because they did not need to, having received their orders long ago they knew exactly what part they had to play in this Great War.

And hence, they waited for it patiently.

Minutes passed without much event.

But then Clarence felt it.

Not Soron’s landing, and not his killing intent, but the precise moment he crossed the threshold into the innermost ring, as the runic pathways beneath the execution grounds reacted instantly, subtle shifts rippling through the lattice like tension finally released.

"It’s time."

Clarence muttered quietly, his voice controlled and flat, as his hand tightened and the signal passed through the formation without the need for further instruction.

*SWOOSH*

*SWOOSH*

*SWOOSH*

*SWOOSH*

*SWOOSH*

*SWOOSH*

Clarence and Terrence vanished as compressed space folded around them, their bodies tearing across prepared vectors before reappearing at assigned nodes along the Chakravyuh platform, boots striking stone in perfect synchronization as they locked into position.

At the same instant, the five Great Clan Gods moved as well, their figures flashing outward from their seats while Raymond stepped forward with them, the eight of them forming a precise octagonal pattern around the execution platform without a single misalignment.

There was no hesitation and no delay, as each placed a palm against their formation node and poured divine essence outward in tightly controlled streams, as the Chakravyuh responded immediately, beams of condensed power surging skyward before intersecting high above.

*Clank* *Clank*

*Lock*

Space folded inward as dimensional boundaries snapped shut, the air within the formation thickening as time itself, once layered beneath divine influence, collapsed into a single linear flow.

Inside the gridlock, Kaelith, Helmuth, Mauriss, and Soron found themselves being bound fully to the third dimension, their presence fixed and their options collapsing inward as retreat ceased to exist entirely.

The Chakravyuh formation was now active, complete, and unforgiving.

"HUFF—"

Clarence exhaled slowly as confirmation flowed back through the network, divine pressure feeding into his circuits as the formation stabilized and the truth settled into place with absolute clarity.

Soron could no longer leave, not without tearing the formation apart, and as far as Clarence knew, doing so was impossible, which meant that the Cult God was now trapped inside for good.

"This is it.... The beginning of the end for the Cult...."

He muttered, as he watched Soron land without hurry or fear, as if the idea of facing three opponents alone did not bother him at all.

*Thud*

Soron touched down softly upon the execution platform, his feet meeting stone without force or ceremony, as he slowly lifted his head and allowed his gaze to rise.

His eyes met Kaelith’s.

The tension was immediate, not loud or explosive, but dense and unmistakable, forged from more than two thousand years of shared history, betrayal, and choices that had never found resolution, as neither brother looked away or flinched, and the air between them thickened under the weight of everything left unsaid.

Clarence felt it even from where he stood, understanding with unsettling clarity that while the Chakravyuh had successfully trapped Soron’s body within its bounds, whatever existed between those two Gods had never been subject to space, time, or dimensional constraint in the first place.

Neither Soron nor Kaelith spoke, their gazes locked as divine pressure within the sealed space stabilized naturally, responding only to proximity and presence rather than emotion, while the stillness stretched long enough to make even seasoned Gods feel uneasy.

Kaelith remained motionless, his posture composed and expression controlled, yet the faint tightening at his jaw and the almost imperceptible shift of his stance betrayed recognition rather than surprise, as though he had been waiting for this moment just as long as Soron.

While Soron on the other hand stood just as still, shoulders relaxed and hands resting loosely at his sides, yet the calm in his eyes carried something sharper beneath it, something unresolved and deeply rooted, as though he were not looking at a brother, but at a decision that had demanded an answer for centuries.

"Ha...hahahaha"

A soft chuckle cut through the silence, as Mauriss leaned forward slightly on his throne, fingers tapping together as amusement flickered openly across his face, his head tilting as he regarded Soron with interest rather than hostility.

"Hey."

Mauriss called out lightly, snapping his fingers once.

*Snap*

"Eyes over here too, you know."

He demanded, yet as Soron paid his words no mind, he only found himself to be even more amused.

"Rude."

Mauriss added, snapping again, louder this time.

*Snap* *Snap*

Yet once more, Soron did not turn, his gaze never leaving Kaelith’s as he dismissed Mauriss’s words like they meant nothing to him.

Helmuth watched the exchange in silence, arms crossed loosely over his chest as a faint curl of anticipation tugged at the corner of his mouth.

On one hand, he wanted to start fighting Soron already, however, on the other, he wanted to allow the two brothers to talk it out after two millennia of accumulated hatred before he cut Soron down.

And hence, for the briefest of moments, he decided to stay put.

Several seconds passed.

Then Soron finally moved.

Not toward Mauriss.

Not toward Helmuth.

But away from Kaelith.

His head turning slowly and without urgency, as he lowered his gaze toward the kneeling figure at the center of the platform, where chains still bound battered limbs and dried blood stained the stone, as Veyr looked up at him in disbelief.

For the first time since landing, Soron’s expression changed.

The sharp edge faded.

And something gentler took its place.

"You’ve done well to endure up till now."

Soron said evenly, his voice carrying across the execution platform without effort as his attention settled fully on Veyr.

"Do not worry."

He continued, reassurance woven naturally into the words.

"I’m here to save you now."

He declared, as Clarence felt the shift immediately.

Not in power.

Not in formation.

But in intent.

As he found no lies in Soron’s words.

The Cult God clearly believing that he could save Veyr from the jaws of this impossible formation.