Harem Domain: I Fucked The Goddess of Lust, So What
Chapter 45: Zephiron’s

Chapter 45: Chapter 45: Zephiron’s

The storm above twisted and churned like a living beast, its deep gray clouds pulsing with streaks of violent, golden lightning. The god’s voice still echoed in the air, a force so overwhelming that the very ground trembled beneath Azrael’s feet.

"QUINN! YOU DARE DEFY ME?"

Azrael ran. His heart pounded like a war drum, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he sprinted through the burning village. Around him, chaos reigned—men screamed, creatures howled, and the wind carried the scent of blood and fire.

His mind raced.

Who the hell was that? Why was Quinn scared?

Quinn, his trusted sword, his most powerful ally—was afraid.

And if Quinn was afraid, then Azrael had every reason to be terrified.

He pushed forward, weaving through the destruction, dodging debris and fallen bodies. Behind him, lightning crackled, striking dangerously close. The sheer power of it sent shockwaves through the ground, making it harder to keep his balance.

Quinn’s voice came again, but this time, it was strained, almost regretful.

"Azrael, I... I may have made a mistake."

Azrael gritted his teeth. "Now is not the time for confessions, Quinn!"

Another lightning bolt slammed into the earth barely ten feet behind him. The impact sent him sprawling forward, rolling across the dirt before scrambling back to his feet. His ears rang from the explosion.

The voice boomed again, closer this time, filling the sky with wrath.

"YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR BETRAYAL, TRAITOROUS BLADE!"

Azrael could barely think past the fear clawing at his chest. "Quinn, what did you do?"

The sword hesitated. "It’s... complicated."

Azrael cursed. He didn’t have time for vague answers. "Uncomplicate it, NOW!"

Quinn sighed—actually sighed, as if this was an awkward conversation instead of a life-threatening situation.

"Well... you see, I was once a divine weapon," Quinn admitted. "Forged by the gods. A weapon of unimaginable power."

Azrael’s eyes widened, but he kept running. "You never told me that!"

Quinn coughed, which was impressive for a sword. "Would you have believed me?"

Azrael didn’t answer. Probably not.

Quinn continued, his voice carrying guilt. "I was created to serve one god... and only one god. The one currently trying to turn you into dust."

Azrael swore under his breath. "And let me guess—you abandoned him?"

Quinn hesitated again. "Something like that. I... may have stolen some of his power before running away."

Azrael nearly tripped over his own feet. "You what?!"

The sky above exploded with a deafening clap of thunder. The god’s voice, now brimming with absolute fury, crashed down upon them like an avalanche.

"YOU DARED STEAL FROM ME, QUINN? YOU, A MERE TOOL?"

Azrael could feel the rage in those words. It was suffocating, pressing down on him like an invisible force, making his legs feel heavier with each step.

Quinn’s voice was barely a whisper. "Azrael... we need to run."

"I KNOW THAT!" Azrael shouted.

But there was nowhere to go.

Ahead of him, the village had been reduced to rubble. Fires raged uncontrollably, and whatever few survivors remained were desperately fleeing. The creatures that had attacked earlier had scattered, as if even they feared the wrath of whatever god loomed above.

Azrael skidded to a stop, his breathing ragged. He was trapped.

A shadow descended.

The air grew impossibly thick, charged with an ancient energy beyond anything he had ever felt before. Slowly, the clouds above twisted, parting just enough for Azrael to see the figure within.

A massive, golden-eyed entity hovered above the battlefield. It had no clear form—its body was made of swirling storm clouds, its eyes burning with divine fury. Its very presence felt wrong, as if reality itself struggled to contain it.

Azrael swallowed hard. "Okay... yeah. That’s bad."

Quinn groaned. "I told you we should’ve run faster."

Azrael ignored him. "Who is he?"

Quinn’s voice was filled with regret. "His name is Zephiron. The Storm God. The Divine Judge. And... my former master."

Azrael exhaled slowly. "Great. So we’re fighting a god?"

Quinn chuckled nervously. "Not exactly. You’re fighting a god. I’m just here for moral support."

Azrael clenched his teeth. "You are literally the worst."

Zephiron’s voice crashed down once more, shaking the very air.

"YOU HAVE ESCAPED ME FOR CENTURIES, QUINN. BUT NOW, YOU WILL FACE YOUR JUDGMENT."

The storm above churned violently, golden lightning crackling through the sky.

Azrael tightened his grip on Quinn. His mind screamed at him to run, but his body refused to move.

He had fought monsters. He had faced armies. But this—this was something else entirely.

For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t sure if he could win.

And then—

The storm moved.

A massive bolt of divine lightning, thick as a tree trunk, surged down from the heavens—aimed directly at him.

Azrael reacted on pure instinct.

He threw himself to the side, barely dodging the blast as it struck the ground where he had stood. The impact was devastating, sending a shockwave rippling through the battlefield, knocking over burning buildings and sending debris flying.

Azrael rolled across the dirt, coughing from the sheer force of the explosion. His entire body ached. His skin burned from the residual energy in the air.

He struggled to his feet, gripping Quinn tightly.

The storm above raged even harder. Zephiron wasn’t done.

Another bolt descended.

Azrael gritted his teeth. "Quinn—any ideas?"

Quinn hesitated. "Uh... block it?"

"BLOCK IT?!" Azrael shouted, exasperated.

Quinn hummed. "Worth a shot?"

Azrael cursed under his breath. He had no other choice.

As the second bolt of divine lightning came crashing down, he raised Quinn above his head, bracing himself.

The moment the lightning struck—

Everything exploded.

A deafening boom filled the air, drowning out all sound. The force of the impact sent shockwaves rippling through the ground, creating a massive crater beneath Azrael’s feet. His entire body felt like it was on fire, his muscles screaming in protest.

And yet—he was still standing.

Quinn, somehow, had absorbed the attack.

Azrael blinked, his vision swimming. He could feel the raw power coursing through his sword, making his fingers tingle.

Zephiron’s golden eyes narrowed.

"IMPOSSIBLE."

Azrael exhaled sharply, his lips curling into a smirk. "Guess I’m full of surprises."

The storm god’s fury doubled. The winds howled, and the clouds swirled into an even greater tempest. The air crackled with dangerous energy, promising more destruction.

Azrael took a shaky step forward, gripping Quinn tightly. He was exhausted. Wounded. Outmatched.

But he wasn’t dead.

The sky was a storm of wrath, the ground a battlefield of ruin. Fires crackled in the distance, their glow flickering against the dark clouds that swirled above. The air was thick—heavy with divine fury, charged with power beyond mortal comprehension.

Azrael stood in the center of it all, his hands trembling as he gripped Quinn tightly. His entire body ached from absorbing the last attack, his muscles screaming in protest. But his heart still pounded, his breath still came in sharp gasps.

He was still alive.

Zephiron hovered above, a swirling mass of godly rage, his golden eyes burning with contempt.

"YOU DEFY ME, MORTAL?"

His voice was thunder itself, shaking the very heavens.

Azrael exhaled, rolling his shoulders, forcing his body to keep moving. He had fought against monsters, against impossible odds before—but this? This was unlike anything he had ever faced.

He wasn’t just fighting an enemy.

He was standing against a god.

He took a deep breath, raising Quinn slightly. "Well, considering you just tried to turn me into dust—yeah, I’d say I’m defying you."

Zephiron’s presence darkened. "YOUR ARROGANCE WILL BE YOUR END."

The storm roared to life. The winds howled, and another bolt of divine lightning surged down from the heavens.

Azrael reacted instantly.

He swung Quinn, the blade pulsing with power as it met the lightning head-on. The moment they connected, the world exploded in a burst of energy. Sparks flew in every direction, scorching the earth around him. The force sent Azrael sliding back, his boots digging deep trenches into the dirt.

His arms felt like they were on fire. His heart pounded furiously in his chest.

Quinn groaned. "Okay, that really hurt."

Azrael coughed, shaking out the numbness from his fingers. "Yeah? Try being the guy holding you."

Above them, Zephiron was watching, his golden eyes narrowed in fury.

"I SEE NOW. IT IS NOT YOU WHO DEFIES ME—IT IS MY TRAITOROUS BLADE."

Quinn tensed in Azrael’s grip. "Uh... yeah. So, about that—"

Zephiron lifted a massive hand made of swirling clouds and reached toward them. Azrael barely had time to react before he felt something pulling at him—like gravity itself had shifted.

His feet left the ground.

"Shit!" Azrael cursed as he was yanked upward by an invisible force. He struggled, twisting in midair, but it was no use.

Zephiron was drawing him in.

Wind roared past his ears as he hurtled toward the god’s waiting grasp. The golden eyes of the storm bore into him, filled with divine judgment.

Quinn’s voice rang in his mind. "I really hope you trust me, Azrael!"

Azrael gritted his teeth. "I don’t like where this is going."

Before he could argue, Quinn glowed—a sudden, blinding flash of silver light. The sword vibrated violently in his hands, then—

A shockwave exploded outward.

The force blasted Azrael free from Zephiron’s grasp, sending him spiraling downward. He twisted his body, barely managing to control his fall before slamming into the ground. Dust and debris erupted around him.

He groaned, lifting himself onto one knee, coughing. "That was not fun."

Zephiron’s form pulsed with rage. "ENOUGH OF THESE GAMES!"

The air grew impossibly heavy. The clouds churned, spinning into a vortex, gathering at Zephiron’s core.

Quinn whispered urgently. "Azrael... he’s about to unleash everything."

Azrael gritted his teeth. His options were running out.

He could try to run. But there was no escape from a god.

He could try to fight. But how did you fight something that was beyond mortal limits?

His grip tightened on Quinn. His mind raced.

Then—an idea.

It was insane. It was reckless.

But it was all he had.

Azrael exhaled sharply. "Quinn... I need you to do something crazy."

Quinn hummed warily. **"I love crazy.