[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction-Chapter 219: Eternity is still an offer

"Me?" Ruo asked in mock shock, one hand theatrically on her chest. "I’ve done nothing to matchmake you with the... devil."

"You disappeared without a word; your apartment was empty and only a clone phone had been left behind, more likely by dissidents and Matteo. I’ve met him," he pointed his finger at Victor, who was very amused, "because I wanted to talk with Samael about where you are."

"Oh, yeah... the vessel thingy."

Ruo’s tone was far too casual for someone whose disappearance had nearly set three continents on fire. She waved her hand as if "the vessel thingy" were a minor scheduling inconvenience, not an international manhunt wrapped in divine politics.

Ego’s gaze cut to her like a knife through glass. "The vessel thingy," he repeated, voice soft enough to chill the air, "was an attempted forced ascension orchestrated by a dissident faction that wanted to turn you into their weapon of worship."

Ruo’s smile faltered. "Yes, that," she said, as if acknowledging a stain on her sleeve. "They wanted a god. I wanted a vacation. We had a difference in management styles."

Connor snorted into his drink. "And Theobald got the promotion instead. Tragic."

"Tragic for whom?" Samael asked, dry as sand. "He’s technically glowing but also technically... very dead."

"Occupational hazard," Ruo said breezily, then reached for the bottle to refill her glass. "Honestly, I thought letting them pick Theobald would buy me time to disappear quietly. Apparently, quiet is not a luxury in this family."

Victor’s fingers tapped against the table once, sharp and deliberate. "You were gone for six months," he said, no amusement left in his voice now. "You didn’t just disappear quietly, Ruo. You erased yourself. Every trace, every digital signature. The entire Archives division thought you were dead."

"I was almost dead," Ruo admitted, glancing down for a moment before her grin snapped back into place. "But being worshipped to death didn’t sound appealing, so I improvised. The clone phone was Matteo’s idea. I didn’t expect him to sell the location data to the highest bidder. He was supposed to be a distraction, not an accomplice."

Elias blinked, processing. "You... staged your own death to avoid becoming a god."

"Wouldn’t you?" she asked sweetly.

Elias opened his mouth, then closed it. In the end, he sighed heavily, "We are talking about my wedding with one." He shot Victor a look and turned back to Ruo. "One that wants me as his soulmate and to merge souls with."

Ruo leaned forward, her grin sharp and knowing, her elbow resting lazily on the table. "Oh, so you finally noticed," she said, voice honeyed and unrepentant. "Took you long enough, Professor."

Victor didn’t deny it, he didn’t even blink. He only took a slow sip of his wine, eyes glinting over the rim of the glass with the kind of satisfaction that made Elias immediately regret speaking. "I never hid it. I’ve offered it since our second encounter."

Elias’s brows shot up. "Offered it?" he repeated, incredulous. "Like a job position?"

Victor’s lips curved, faint amusement flickering behind the gold in his eyes. "It was an excellent offer," he said smoothly. "Eternal bond. Shared consciousness. The merging of our cores... complete transparency." He paused, letting the word "eternal" settle between them like a quiet threat. "I assumed you’d appreciate the efficiency."

"I appreciate boundaries," Elias replied flatly. "And you’re describing metaphysical identity theft."

Ruo let out a strangled laugh, choking on her wine. "Oh, this is priceless. You just called him a thief."

Victor didn’t rise to the bait; he simply turned his glass between his fingers, unbothered. "If I wanted to steal you," he said softly, "you wouldn’t remember resisting."

That earned him a sharp glare from Elias and a low whistle from Connor. "See, this is exactly why mortals write cautionary myths," Connor said, shaking his head. "Divine beings and their casual threats."

"I’m not divine," Ruo said quickly, raising both hands in mock surrender. "Let’s not group me with him. I just have... residual radiance."

Samael snorted. "Residual radiance? You fried a reactor last time you sneezed."

Ruo glared. "Exactly. Residual. Unstable. The divine equivalent of static electricity. He..." she pointed a well-manicured finger at Victor. "is the real problem. The God of Destruction and the Creator’s Executioner. The being that erased two pantheons before breakfast one century ago. Do not confuse our power levels."

Victor’s expression didn’t change, though something ancient and quiet flickered behind his gaze. "You make it sound so dramatic."

"It is dramatic," Ruo shot back. "You unmade an entire continent because it offended your aesthetic sensibilities."

Elias’s eyes widened. "He did what?"

Victor tilted his head, entirely serene. "It wasn’t the continent. It was the temple. The rest was... collateral."

"Collateral," Elias repeated, voice rising half an octave. "You destroyed an entire civilization because you didn’t like the temple?"

Victor’s tone was calm and logical. "It was built in my name. Without permission. It was an insult and now nobody remembers them."

Ruo muttered into her drink, "And people say I’m the unstable one."

Connor leaned toward Samael. "Remind me never to redecorate near him."

Samael nodded solemnly. "Agreed."

Elias rubbed his temple, muttering something about divine overreach and poor spatial ethics. "You’re a walking apocalypse," he said finally.

Victor smiled faintly. "And yet you’re still sitting beside me."

"That’s because leaving might trigger mass extinction," Elias snapped.

"Not necessarily," Victor murmured. "Only regional collapse."

Ruo burst out laughing. "He’s not joking, by the way."

Victor ignored her. "You mistake me, Elias. I’m not offering you destruction. I’m offering you eternity."

Elias exhaled sharply. "That sounds suspiciously like annihilation wearing a romantic suit."

Victor leaned closer, his voice dipping low, velvet-dark, and too steady to be human. "To me, it’s mercy."

The table went very still. Even Ruo’s grin faltered.

Ego’s eyes, half-shadowed, shifted toward Victor. "You would merge with him?" he asked quietly. "The Executioner with a mortal?"

Victor didn’t hesitate. "He’s not mortal."

Elias blinked. "Excuse me?"

Victor met his gaze, unflinching. "You’ve touched the divine before... through me, through your research, through the ether that answers you and now through our child too. The merge would not destroy you." He paused. "It would... refine you."

Ruo groaned. "And that’s the sales pitch. ’Marry me, I’ll refine your soul.’ You really haven’t changed."

Connor raised his glass. "Honestly? Ten out of ten delivery."

Elias glared at both of them. "You’re all insane."

"Accurate," Samael said dryly. "But she’s right... you’d be the first mortal in history to survive a bond with the Executioner. That’s... monumental."

"I was hoping for manageable, not monumental," Elias muttered.

Victor’s voice softened, almost tender. "Manageable is beneath you."

Ruo rolled her eyes so hard it was audible. "Here we go again. This is how entire worlds get conquered... he flatters someone until they say yes out of exhaustion."

Elias folded his arms. "Good news, then. I’m immune to flattery."

Victor’s smile widened, the faintest flicker of danger behind the warmth. "Then I’ll just have to convince you another way."

Ruo groaned. "Someone sedate me before the divine courtship ritual starts."

Connor laughed into his glass. "You realize this dinner’s going to end up in scripture one day, right?"

Samael added, deadpan, "If the world survives it."

Elias muttered, "That’s not reassuring."

Victor turned to him, utterly serene. "It’s not meant to be. It’s meant to be true."

And for a moment, just a moment, Elias could swear the air around Victor pulsed, reality itself holding its breath, as if the universe were listening in quiet, patient awe.