Chapter 1982: Checkmate
Chapter 1982: Checkmate
God Raashim's eyes widened when he saw Shir vanish into thin air.
He didn't need to guess—he felt the strange spatial disturbance clearly this time.
Unlike earlier, when Eren had sneaked up on him without warning, Raashim had been paying attention now. Still, he hadn't expected this.
He traced the movement. A space-element technique had been used. Crude and unrefined in his eyes. Yet effective.
The Spatial Anchor that Eren had placed inside Shir's chest hadn't been used to pull someone in this time. Instead, the anchor itself had been yanked—sent away, redirected to a different holder.
In Raashim's view, it was a primitive way to manipulate space. Simple. Rough. Almost laughable. But it worked and that's what made it dangerous.
Because now, with Shir gone, Raashim had no immediate way of freeing himself from Eren's grip. How could he take over Shir's body now that he was not here with him?
What happened next made things even worse.
A figure jumped back onto the altar.
It was Reen.
She looked perfectly fine, brimming with life.
As if she hadn't just faced the wrath of a god a few moments ago. Her aura was vibrant. Her body whole. There was no sign of the beating she had taken earlier.
But that wasn't the worst of it.
Raashim's eyes darted toward the base of the altar—where the array formation had once been glowing with sacrificial energy. It was now completely still.
He realized something horrifying.
The sacrificial followers—every last one of them—were gone. Killed by Reen.
Which meant… there was no way back. No souls to channel. No path to return to his Divine Kingdom.
Even if he somehow managed to escape Eren's hold, the Divine Bridge was gone. The ritual was broken.
His halo of invincibility was crumbling.
The mortals who had once looked at him with awe and blind devotion were watching now with fear and disbelief.
What they saw wasn't a god delivering divine judgment.
They saw a god being killed. And they would never forgive that.
To mortals, a cruel god could still be feared and followed. But a weak god?
That was worse. That was unacceptable.
This was why Immortals were very cruel in their way of handling mortals.
Raashim could feel the weight of their turning hearts. Their faith faltering. Slipping through his fingers. He had already known that the ritual of sacrifice—Shir's desperate method to summon him—had damaged his faith. And this disgrace was the final blow.
Reen, uncaring of his plight, ran toward Eren and merged into him mid-stride.
Her slime form wrapped around him, bolstering his strength and regenerating his torn body faster than ever.
Eren's aura surged again. His grip on Raashim tightened. His life-draining ability grew even more vicious.
Raashim felt it. The pain. The drain. The end.
His vitality and soul essence were being devoured at an impossible rate now. Faster than he could resist. Stronger than his will could fight.
***
Shir appeared out of nowhere.
One moment, the middle of Eren's army was calm—just the usual tension of an army watching their commander face off against a god.
The next moment, Shir was there.
He dropped in like a glitch in space, knees slightly bent from the sudden relocation, eyes wide and searching.
But before he could even understand where he had landed—
Boom.
A punch landed squarely in his gut. It was like getting hit by a cannonball made of raw power.
The sea monster had already raised his fist the moment Shir appeared, as if he had known he would show up. There was no roar, no warning. Just a heavy fist flying forward.
The punch created a shockwave that rippled across the battlefield. Dust kicked up. Soldiers stumbled. The sonic boom echoed like thunder across the sky.
"Aaaaaaaargh!"
Shir was flung high into the air, his body flipping and twisting like a broken kite. He screamed—loud and painful—as the world spun around him.
At this moment of crisis, Shir was not thinking of himself, but of God Raashim. His original self. His creator.
His heart was already a mess from Eren's earlier attack. His thoughts were clouded. He was scared—shaken by the sight of a god being murdered by a mere mortal right before his eyes.
As such, he wasn't prepared for the sea monster's attacks.
Still, he gritted his teeth in the air. His eyes locked onto the altar in the distance. He knew Raashim didn't have much time. His aura was fading fast. He had to act now, or it would be too late.
With what little strength he had left, Shir connected his consciousness with the SS-Rank automaton.
He reached out through Menaka's Mesh. His mind latched onto the automaton's control system, sending a sharp command.
"Rescue the god. Now."
But then he froze.
His consciousness collided with resistance—his link showing him what the automaton was already doing. It was already locked in combat.
Four figures surrounded it from all sides—Marina, Azurea, Naya, and Osha.
Each one moved like lightning, attacking, retreating, baiting, dodging. Their teamwork was fluid. Coordinated. Designed to stall.
They weren't trying to win. They were trying to delay. And they were succeeding.
Even though the automaton had the upper hand in raw power, it couldn't break free.
Every time it surged forward, someone got in its way. Every time it raised its arm to attack, someone else pulled it back. They were bleeding it dry of time—one moment at a time. It wasn't very difficult to deal with an automaton once they got used to the attack patterns anyway.
Shir felt the last thread of hope snap in his heart.
There was no way now. No one left to help. God Raashim would die. And there was nothing he could do.
High in the air, Shir began to fall, the light in his eyes dimming like the god he was bound to. His last road of salvation… had been blocked.
Shir realized everything too late.
All of Eren's moves had indeed been arranged like a game of chess.
One of the main reasons the butcher had made Shir exhaust all his trump cards early on was to ensure that no one would be left to help Raashim in his final moments.
What was happening at this point… it was a checkmate.