The Lightbringer gasped in surprise at the whisper in his ear, whirling around and swinging his arm in a wide, and very predictable swing that Seth easily ducked under. As his fingers curled into a fist, the Lightbringers eyes glowed brightly once more.

Beams of searing light blasted downwards as Seth's fist rose to meet them. Luckily, as it turned out, the off switch for those light beams were conveniently stored in the Lightbringers chin, and Seth eagerly slammed his fist into that irritating, chiselled jaw.

The beams blasted across his shoulder, leaving a pair of seared lines in the obsidian plates of the [Midnight Mantle], but it was nothing more than superficial damage, before they shut off thanks to that handy punch operated off button.

Seth poured all of his temporary strength into that punch, timing it for one of his peaks in power from the Lightbringers placebo aura, and sent the smug bastard flying backwards, with Astra thankfully letting go of his leg once Seth appeared.

However the almighty Lord of Light barely got a few metres before he stopped dead in his flight. Seth's hand, the hand entirely composed of black blood and hidden within the armour, wrapped around the Lightbringers leg and dragged him to a stop, before yanking him in the other direction.

He pulled him over his head, slamming him into the ground once, twice then a third time before spinning him around like a shot put and launching him into the crowd of puppets and undead.

The recently resurrected army eagerly opened up their ranks, letting the Lightbringer fly deep into the crowd, before they closed in on him. Obediently and eagerly following their masters orders, they lunged at the Lightbringer like a pack of hungry wolves, tearing at him with claws and teeth, or whatever weapons they had on hand.

Some of them even pulled out the weapons still stuck in their undead bodies and wielded them against the Lightbringer.

Their first targets were his eyes, thumbs and blades stabbing into them. Even with the searing beams launching out of them at every moment, it didn't stop the onslaught as they tried to gouge out his eyes. All while others held down his arms, making sure he couldn't escape.

Once the Lightbringer had been launched from where he had been standing, another figure quickly scampered across the battlefield. The man in the white robes, still hunched over as if stealth was simply a matter of height, he nearly tripped over his own feet or stood on his robes as he quickly moved through the awe struck crowds.

Eventually, stopping in the spot where the Lightbringer had once stood, right next to the bleeding body of the storm goddess.

The white robed man glanced over his shoulder worriedly, not sure whether to breath a sigh of relief or not at the sight of his god being beaten and thrown around like a rag-doll.

"Ah, what am I doing... This is herecy. But... if he's not really a god... is it still heracy?"

"Oh hey... It's you again. Listen... your little awakening is nice and all, but... Cough Cough... If you could heal me first and then have a crisis afterwards, that would be much appreciated."

Astra smiled weakly up at the panic stricken face of the healer she had been speaking to before the Lightbringers appearance, and did her best to give him a warm smile. A feat that was hard to achieve when you coughed up a lungful of blood half way through.

"Right, Right. I'm sorry Ms.. uh... Storm. I'll need to get this out of the way first."

Like Arthur with the sword in the stone, the healer wrapped his fingers around the hilt of Astra's sword, which was still half buried in her guts and pinning her to the ground. However unlike Arthur, the sword didn't slide out at his tug.

In fact, even with him putting his entire weight behind it, he could barely get it to shift a single centimetre.

He wasn't even a transcendent yet, so his strength was absolutely pitiful compared to the likes of the Lightbringer, who was close to the peak of transcendence, and that's not even including the power boost he briefly received and kept for the few seconds after his arrival.

Even still, he heaved and heaved, putting every ounce of strength into it until finally, the sword budged. Before he even had a chance to celebrate, the sword continued upwards quickly.

Much quicker than he was pulling it up, far far too quickly in fact.

The healer stumbled back as the sword lifted itself from her guts, forcing a grunt of pain to escape from Astra's lips and a fresh river of crimson to ooze from her gaping wound. He lunged forwards, immediately clamping his hands over the wound and pressing down on it, forcing more groans from Astra's lips.

Before he could start using his powers, however, a point of cold steel pressed against his throat from the side.

The sword that had pulled itself from Astra was floating next to him, pressing itself against his throat, before the Lord of the Dead strolled over and wrapped his hand around its hilt, as if the sword was simply waiting for him to claim it.

Staring into the swirling mass of darkness that was hidden under the Death-bringers hood, the healer couldn't help but let out a whimper as death quite literally loomed over him. Before his life could be claimed, an angel saved his life by speaking softly.

"Don't threaten... my healer you idiot. Put it down and... cough cough... come here... I have something for you."

The sword immediately lowered at the word of the Storm Goddess, and the dreadful Lord Corvus obeyed her without question. Immediately stepping over to her side and kneeling down beside her.

The billowing, smokey shadows that flowed from his shoulders and acted as his cloak moved on their own. The smoke curled around the trio, forming a dome that blocked the view of them from all those outside the dome.

Sealed off from the rest of the world, the healer became accutely aware that the only reason he was probably still alive was his identity as such. A healer. Thus, while he still held that life, he immediately stirred the mana inside him and poured it into his hands.

A soft glow eminated from his palms, acting as the sole light source within the dome of darkness. The gaping wound across Astra's stomach started to pull itself together, strands of flesh bridging the gap, knitting themselves together and pulling the wound closed.

Once the bleeding was stopped, he delved deeper, focusing on the internal damage. And there was a lot of it. However even with the Goddess' life in his hands, literally, he couldn't help but spare some glances at the pair.

Uncaring of the healers presence, Astra reached up slowly, slipping her blood covered hand underneath the hood. She gazed up at the swirling darkness, before shaking her head gently, and hooking her thumb around the hem of the hood and gently pulled it down.

As soon as it was pulled down, the swirling darkness receded and revealed the handsome, pale face of death that made the healer let out an involuntary gasp.

He was surprised simply by the fact that it was... just a man. A normal looking man. He had no idea why he hid his face, he had assumed it would be some sort of undead monstrosity or the skull of the grim reaper under there. But no... it was just a man.

Seth, the man in question, shot a chilling glare towards the healer at the sound of his gasp, before the Storm Goddess' hand pulled the Death-bringers attention back to her. His gaze immediately softened at the sight of her face, a small smile spreading across his lips.

She pulled him close, dragging his head down even with her weakened strength, until their foreheads were touching. A few wayward sparks crackled between the touching skin, but neither seemed to care about it.

The Storm Goddess stared into the man's mercury eyes and whispered softly to him, words that only he could hear as he was the only one they belonged to. Before he could respond, she pressed her lips against his, kissing him deeply.

Scarlet blush flushed across the healers face as he immediately averted his eyes, focusing on the hands he had pressed against her abdomen. A placement, that he was all too aware of, which was between two danger zones, especially if the man behind the hood was a jealous man.

His focus became utterly tuned onto the healing at hand, as well as making sure that his hands stayed exactly where they were and didn't stray a single millimetre. Just for the sake of his own life.

When the sounds of their kissing had finished, the healer risked another look, only to be greeted with the most beautiful and radiant smile he had ever seen, on the face of the Storm Goddess. The twinkle of her eyes more beautiful than anything the stars in the night sky had ever produced.

The man pulled up his hood, shielding his handsome face in a swirling veil of darkness once more as he rose to his feet. Their hands touching, the Lord having dismissed his gauntlet just so he could touch her properly.

Their fingers intertwined as she looked up at him with that beautiful smile, and gave him one last order. Her voice sounding so soft, sweet and angelic despite the orders contents.

"Bring me his head."

With a bow and a kiss on her hand, the Lord of the Dead, Lord Corvus, uttered the words that could have made many women swoon if they were in Astra's place.

"Yes, My Queen."