As the blade pressed against me, I did not stay to find out if I would be able to hold out. I was nowhere near the amount of power that the god had access to. I wrote Speed on my own chest, went up through the opening in the ribs with lightning behind me, and came out into the night with the corrosive blood still smoking off me.
I was greeted by the loud crack of the chains around the serpent shattering to pieces as the blade tore itself out of the serpent's side, spun once in the air, and flew back into its jaws.
I looked at the body of the god, at the mile of scale and blood and flesh, and the landscape devastated for miles and shrouded by a growing black cloud, and my mind was trying to pick apart the puzzle of how to kill it.
I could not slice through its heart, which was a problem, because that was its seat of power as far as I could tell. The power of a mage was in their soul, but a god seemed to centre its power inside its body.
