Volume 1 Chapter 670
by post_apiChapter 670: Clash of Little Lolth and Kanor’s Onslaught
Following Xiletor’s guidance, Lolth had gained a general grasp of this "God’s Domain’s" mechanics.
It manifested as a hallucination born from her own memories—one that systematically overwrote her recollections. Awareness of its falsehood only surfaced during moments of unconsciousness within the illusion, like her current slumber.
This meant…
Whenever conscious and active within the mirage,
her "subjective initiative" remained severely constrained.
Yet Xiletor’s presence granted her precious intervals of clarity.
Through deliberate mental conditioning, she could nudge her dream-self toward actions favoring escape.
The environment itself held potential for manipulation.
As this realm stemmed from her memories, sufficiently strong psychological cues might reshape its fabric to her advantage.
For instance…
Implanting the conviction that her schoolbag contained homemade lunch—a perfectly plausible scenario given her past routine—could materialize the meal through sheer belief.
This revelation brought cautious optimism.
The target of her mental conditioning was, after all, herself.
No one understood her own desires and perceptions of plausibility better—a familiarity that streamlined the process.
Yet practical implementation promised headaches.
The core dilemma remained:
"Xiletor, what must I do to shatter this ‘God’s Domain’?"
Even armed with methodology, Lolth lacked strategic direction.
Xiletor’s reaction mirrored expectations.
A radiant smile bloomed across her features—that infuriatingly exquisite expression Lolth knew heralded mischief.
"Guess," the elder sister sing-songed,
leaving Lolth momentarily breathless with frustration.
Typical! Even trapped in a Demon God’s spiritual prison, seeking salvation from this sibling brought only vexation. Her sister’s idea of assistance? Cryptic taunts while she languished in existential limbo.
This guy responded with a cryptic "Guess."
If Xiletor’s true form stood before her now, Lolth would’ve already smashed her fist into that infuriating face!
Yet Lolth understood…
Xiletor had already bent the rules in her favor.
That evasive "Guess" could only mean the Devious Demon God Norlanthi’s secrets lay exposed before Xiletor, including the critical weaknesses in this God’s Domain and its unraveling methods.
By not divulging the method outright, Xiletor likely intended this as some twisted trial for her.
Though equally probable—perhaps even more so—the mischievous goddess simply wanted front-row seats to her struggles.
Regardless of motive…
Lolth steadied her breathing before nodding curtly.
"Fine. I’ll figure it out myself."
Though hopelessly outmatched in this arena of deception, trapped within a hostile God’s Domain crafted by trickery incarnate…
The fundamentals remained constant.
Flaw-seeking required pattern recognition through meticulous analysis—a universal truth across all disciplines.
"Just some two-bit Demon God playing games. Watch me tear your precious Domain to shreds!"
Muttering colorful curses, Lolth plunged into her consciousness to dissect this metaphysical prison.
As the spider goddess quarreled with her sister’s avatar while mentally wrestling an infernal trickster…
In the physical dungeon, Never-ending Night Philtes peeled himself off damp stone walls, bloodied fingers trembling against cold mortar.
The realization struck like winter’s bite:
Whatever this girl’s origins—age inconsequential, lineage irrelevant, purpose immaterial—her casual proclamation carried deadly weight.
That arrogant decree, dripping with condescension sharper than executioner’s steel…
Was no bluff.
The metallic shimmer coating her hands pulsed with primordial energy, transporting him back four decades to that fateful moment in the elemental alternate plane.
When his trembling hand had brushed the Divine Throne’s plinth…
And that being materialized from the void.
"This prize isn’t for your current self—"
"Return when you’ve grown worthy."
The words still burned, reducing his demi-god ascension to childish pretense. Now, facing this silver-eyed executioner…
Philtes finally understood how ants feel beneath descending boots.
So insignificant that the other being could squash him with a mere finger.
Then…
He was abruptly expelled from the elemental plane without even a moment’s awareness.
Yes—the sensation resembled being forcibly ejected.
When he regained consciousness, he found himself amidst a desolate expanse in the eastern mainland plane.
The entity had evidently discarded him into the main plane with casual indifference.
Though physically unharmed, those fleeting seconds…
Carved themselves into Philtes’ psyche as an eternal shadow, persisting even after his ascension to demi-godhood.
An indescribable dread lingered—
Where mere observation and interaction had suffocated him, crushing his spirit beneath invisible weight.
This primal terror fueled his obsessive pursuit to forge an artificial totem deity.
Not merely because the alternate plane’s "Divine Throne" hinted at feasibility,
But more crucially, because the guardian presence overseeing that Divine Throne instilled an urgent need for true divine-level power.
Without such celestial strength, his soul would forever tremble in vulnerable unrest.
His sole consolation…
Was that this terrifying entity remained confined beyond the alternate plane.
Likely unique in all existence.
As the Wizard Association’s Great Sage, he’d peripherally sensed divine-tier beings—through fellow demi-gods, cultist-summoned avatars, even ancient relics—
Yet none rivaled that horror.
For Philtes, attaining godlike power…
Meant survival, not supremacy.
Though never voiced to the Association, this truth burned within him.
But today, within Kanor…
Philtes of the "Never-ending Night" detected that same soul-chilling aura.
As if…
She shared origin with that unimaginable being!