Volume 1 Chapter 679
by post_apiChapter 679: Bringing Everything to an End
Main plane, Holy Capital.
Lolth suddenly sensed peculiar "changes" occurring in the twisted, "maddened" avatar of the cunning Demon God.
It appeared to be rapidly "decaying," as though on the verge of dissipating.
Yet the next instant, a surge of fresh power seemed to flow into it, arresting the avatar’s dissolution.
Lolth opened her eyes.
Even she found herself momentarily perplexed… What could be happening?
"Has something happened to Nonolandti’s true form?"
After brief contemplation, Lolth shook her head.
Affairs of the underworld… lay beyond her current reach.
The Holy Capital’s crisis demanded priority.
Her gaze shifted toward the city’s heart.
Elemental magic and the Power of the Evil God continued thickening in the air. The rain had eased slightly, its pattering rhythm now accompanied by neon-like flashes shimmering through the downpour.
"It seems… the moment approaches…"
Lolth murmured, her eyelids fluttering.
As the last syllable left her lips…
All elemental magic in the Holy Capital abruptly stilled.
Within the dungeon, Kanor coughed up viscous black blood.
Never before had she endured such grievous wounds. Mercury-like alchemical constructs lay shattered around her, their vitality extinguished. Her body and soul hung like tattered burlap sacks.
The dense aura of "Death" enveloping her prevented true demise—yet "survival" offered no protection against annihilation.
Before the godlike Philtes, whose every movement unleashed cataclysmic surges of magic, whose tempests of wind and fire, tsunamis and earthquakes rivaled forbidden spells…
Even Kanor had nearly been unmade by this divine storm of elemental violence.
Yet against all odds…
She endured.
*Drip.*
Blood struck stone as Kanor exhaled shakily.
"That was… thoroughly unpleasant."
She drew ragged breath, eyes lifting to confront Philtes.
The sole consolation in this wretched state—
Though lacerated, though teetering on death’s brink, though her magic lay drained…
Victory remained hers.
Before her, Philtes hung impaled against damp stone by a silver-white blade fragment, head slumped. His form had reverted to its pre-ritual state—both flesh and magical aura restored to their condition before he activated the colossal array connecting to the "Elemental alternate plane."
Of course, compared to earlier, he now clung to existence by just a single breath remaining. Blood streamed steadily from his nostrils and mouth, his throat emitting a raspy, guttural noise akin to torn parchment. Yet for Philtes of "Never-ending Night," far worse than his physical devastation… was the unbearable reality of defeat itself. The "God’s Domain" he’d constructed through the Divine Throne from the alternate plane – had been utterly shattered by this slip of a girl before him!
For Philtes in this moment, his current half-dead state might paradoxically prove merciful. The agony wracking his flesh and the spiritual wounds carving through his soul left no room for coherent thought, mercifully blanketing his consciousness. At least temporarily, he needn’t confront the humiliation of being bested by this child.
During those initial frenzied minutes of combat, victory had seemed assured. Nearly all the life-threatening wounds covering Kanor’s small frame had been inflicted within his first three strikes. But then… the battle took an increasingly bizarre turn. The girl began anticipating his movements and magic flow patterns with uncanny precision, while summoning increasingly impossible forces – not just the essence of Death, but torrents of raw arcane energy, exalted Holy Light radiance, magic empowered by the main Plane Will, vibrant life magic, and Magic Potions whose very existence defied comprehension.
The inevitable conclusion… His God’s Domain lay in ruins. Not through cataclysmic explosion, but through relentless erosion – gradual weakening until the divine structure simply… crumbled. So anticlimactic was this dissolution that when both combatants abruptly stilled, the spectators stood frozen in confusion. Only after several heartbeats did realization strike.
Lalea broke the silence first, leaping from her guard post with three bounding steps to reach the blood-drenched Kanor. "What madness possessed you?" The warrior-woman’s voice trembled with conflicted emotions – frustration shading into guilt. "This is the Holy Capital! Countless champions stand ready here, your own master present! Why push yourself to this brink?"
Her words carried bitter self-reproach. Watching this eight-year-old wage mortal combat while she’d remained sidelined… The shame burned.
Kanor responded with a blood-flecked grin, breath rasping through broken ribs. "Had to test my limits… Can’t always… depend on Master…" A crimson droplet traced her chin as she added hoarsely, "Though we failed… to claim the pope’s divinity… The Wizard Association’s arrangement… stands fulfilled."
As she uttered those words, Lalea froze momentarily.
Then…
Belated realization struck her—the stagnant elemental magic permeating their surroundings.
Yet this stagnation didn’t stem from the magic circle’s halted operation after Philtes’ "domain" shattered, nor from its severed connection to the elemental alternate plane.
Contrary to such assumptions, events unfolded exactly as Kanor had anticipated before initiating her plan.
Neither Philtes’ demise, unconsciousness, nor magical depletion would cease the circle’s function…
For he wasn’t its core, merely its conductor.
Deprived of its conductor, the magic circle began channeling Philtes’ purified elemental essence—along with the lingering authority of his domain and coalesced divinity—back into the primordial magical currents.
Within this thickening soup of elemental forces…
A lofty yet unthinking entity took shape—a formidable magical construct, a masterless domain of immense power.
This marked…
The primordial emergence of a "natural deity," akin to ancient elemental totems.
The nascent divinity coalesced around what remained of Philtes’ former domain.
"This surpasses any enhanced ‘Great Sage’—let’s hope Master Lolth can harness it properly."
"Now we can truly… entrust this to Master."
Kanor’s speech slurred as she expended her final reserves of strength.
Her head lolled sideways, collapsing into Lalea’s waiting arms.
"Hey! Wake up!"
Lalea’s exasperated cries echoed through the chamber.
"You can’t sleep now!"
Surveying the dungeon’s chaotic ruins while sensing the turbulent magic environment, Lalea massaged her throbbing temples.
This was hardly suitable terrain for transportation…
Yet she understood the impossibility of demands—the girl had just exhausted herself battling divine-level forces.
"Fine… Let’s find shelter then."
Adjusting Kanor’s weight across her shoulders, she trudged toward the dungeon exit.
Below them, imprisoned Church of Light dignitaries silently observed the departing duo.
None dared intervene…
Having witnessed the god-touched battle firsthand…
Having survived the cataclysm through the unconscious girl’s unintended mercy…
Though many had exploited followers, neglected duties, and schemed for personal gain…
In this suspended moment, not one chose to betray their silent debt.
Of course, it remained unclear exactly how much stemmed from ‘character’ and how much from ‘fear’…
As Lalea ascended, she gradually perceived the elemental magic regaining vigor—yet this resurgence differed markedly from the earlier turbulent chaos.
This renewed activity flowed with disciplined order, bearing an unmistakable air of sophistication.
Yet, she faintly sensed…
These magical currents seemed to weave an ethereal bond with the young girl clinging to her back.
The shifting magic environment—both its connection to Kanor and broader transformations—was swiftly detected by most powerful entities within the Holy Capital.
Naturally, this included both Patricia and Dorothy.
Their brows furrowed in unison as they observed the grotesque avatar of the evil god freezing mid-motion once more.
The divine manifestation halted because the dungeon conflict appeared resolved.
Yet misfortune persisted… for the battle in the Devotion Zone seemed equally concluded!
Now only two divine-level entities emitted resonant pulses—the maddened Demon God in the Devotion Zone, and an embryonic Primeval God forming within the dungeon.
To this distorted avatar…
Both emanations proved equally tantalizing.
Thus Patricia and Dorothy reached simultaneous conclusions.
"Now’s our moment!"
Dorothy produced the Rod of Eden, merging it with the arcane cube fused to her very being.
"Unleash your divinity!"
As the words left her lips, a soft yet formidable radiance enveloped her form—Holy Light in its purest manifestation.
The sacred luminescence channeled through the Rod of Eden, directly tethered to the Holy Capital and Land of Light, dominated perception like the sizzling leek pancakes at a breakfast stall, the piercing wail of a suona in a folk ensemble, or the striking art student in full makeup and black stockings in a graduation photo…
Instantly eclipsing all else in the blink of an eye.
Dorothy transformed into the night’s blazing lodestar, a luminous beacon piercing the stormy darkness.
Half the populace immediately wondered—had an angel descended from the Land of Light?
The familiar, potent yet soothing aura calmed frantic hearts, dissolving terror like dawn dispels shadows.
Even seasoned clergy blinked in astonishment, soothed by inexplicable serenity.
"Has our Lord dispatched His messenger?"
"Could the champion finally intervene?"
"Does the Pope yet live?"
"Might this be Her Holiness?"
Though speculations varied, all agreed this presaged hope.
Meanwhile, for the twisted manifestation of the Day of Revival’s evil god…
This radiance became the rainy night’s most irresistible lure.
The aberration wheeled ponderously, drawn inexorably toward Dorothy’s glowing position.
This was now Patricia’s responsibility.
"Let’s go—!"
After releasing the divinity, Dorothy remained awake and conscious, but channeling the Rod of Eden still consumed much of her focus.
Thus, proceeding as planned…
Patricia crouched, hoisted Dorothy onto her shoulders, then enchanted herself with swiftness spells before charging toward the Devotion Zone!
Meanwhile, as Patricia raced ahead…
Along the same trajectory but on a separate route, Lalea emerged from the dungeon with Kanor slung across her back, advancing at nearly identical speed!
Close behind trailed the "Twisted Incarnation" spawned by the "Day of Revival"!
Simultaneously…
Lalea sensed the coalescing "Primal Elemental Deity" drifting toward them through some inexplicable bond with Kanor upon her back!
This convergence drew swarms of Paladins and ascetics already combating the evil god, dungeon escapees, and others investigating the Hell Demon God’s disturbances—all compelled to trail the paths of Kanor and Dorothy!
Every force…
Edged closer to the derelict, half-built chapel where Lolth waited within the Devotion Zone.
Beyond the Holy Capital’s internal chaos…
Outside the city walls, Janine Irene leapt from her carriage as icy rain drummed against her armor. Behind her, the Lady of Light descended gracefully, her gold-embroidered white robes sheltered beneath an umbrella woven from Holy Light.
"We’ve arrived…Your Holiness."
Janine Irene’s tone carried solemn weight. Though Lolth had forewarned them of potential upheavals within the Holy Capital, neither she nor the Lady of Light…
Could have envisioned the scale of this turmoil.
The storm’s bitter gusts carried whispers of magic, revealing how the eternally "tranquil" city from their childhood memories now teetered in chaos.
Now they understood—truly understood—
The succubus spoke truth.
The Church of Light had diverged utterly from their ideals.
Yet deeper than this revelation pulsed the storm’s symbolic resonance.
Their father figure, the Pope…
Had perished.
Without final farewells.
But mourning would wait.
"Forward…Irene."
"Let us end this night."