Chapter 884: The Future He Proclaimed |
As the Blasphemy Slate in front of Amon rose up, the white mist corroding Roselle and Genie suddenly reacted, trying to break free and retreat back to the endless cosmos. But Roselle forcibly "held" it down, only allowing it to withdraw bit by bit.
Similarly, the pale golden Genie struggled desperately, trying to dive back into the Magic Wishing Lamp through the spout, but Roselle gave Him no such opportunity, firmly binding Him in front using the white mist and azure light.
Roselle turned His head to look down at the Black Emperor mausoleum, Distorting the distinction between inside and outside, and gave His eldest daughter Bernadette a smile that was both pained and satisfied.
He called out loudly, "Enjoy this world for me for a while!"
"Dad!" Queen Mystic Bernadette cried out, her cheeks glistening with tears.
Roselle said no more, turning His gaze back and standing upright.
He continued to resist the retraction of the white mist, tightly gripping Genie, then raised His chin and said to Amon in an authoritative and firm voice, "Do it."
Amon's monocle on His right eye instantly lit up with a strange radiance. He pressed down with both hands, causing the floating Blasphemy Slate before Him to heavily smash towards the pale golden Genie and Roselle who was "embracing" Genie.
The chaotic seawater encompassing all colors and possibilities transformed into a torrent, surging over mightily.
At this moment, within the vortex's white mist, a previously unexpanded point of light rapidly enlarged, revealing a dim and dark scene that seemed to correspond to both Fourth Epoch Trier and some unknown place.
From this scene, a delicate, slender, and beautiful white hand suddenly reached out, grabbing the distorted arm of the Shadow of the Beauty Goddess, and swiftly dragged this Grade 0 Sealed Artifact into its own light point. Both disappeared into the deep, blackish gloom.
Affected by the completion of this transaction, the miniature crimson moon formed by the Great Mother's corruption instantly arrived before the light point where a blurred figure was suspended, about to permeate into it.
Amon was fully utilizing loopholes while also having to control that Blasphemy Slate and maintain its stability, so He could only barely spare a bit of attention to interfere.
He couldn't prevent the disappearance of the Shadow of the Beauty Goddess, only causing the miniature crimson moon to autonomously crumble and dissipate by nearly half.
The remaining miniature crimson moon drilled into the corresponding light point, entering the blurred human figure suspended in midair.
That figure wrapped in bandages, thorns, and roses suddenly had its belly swell up enormously, with obvious cracks appearing. From these crevices, arms covered in black tar-like liquid and protruding with scarlet eyeballs, skull heads, and mouths with teeth and tongues suddenly stretched out, tearing at the blurred figure's abdomen.
The next second, the white mist representing the vortex ritual covered the pale golden Genie, with all the light points within simultaneously extinguishing.
Genie cursed frantically and silently, but could only watch helplessly as the chaotic torrent encompassing all colors and possibilities surged towards Him along with the mottled, ancient, and gray stone tablet.
He was instantly submerged.
His body composed of pale golden viscous lamplight quickly disintegrated, reverting to tiny golden fragments.
These fine, pure gold light points were rapidly washed away and eliminated by the chaotic torrent, leaving not a trace behind.
In the blink of an eye, only an extremely dim blue-tinged white light remained of Genie.
This light, not completely decomposed by the chaotic torrent, pathetically shrank back into the golden Magic Wishing Lamp.
At this point, Roselle no longer needed to restrain Genie, nor did He need to arduously maintain the close connection between Himself and the Uncertain Mist.
He looked at the chaotic torrent surging before Him, raised His chin again, and opened His arms, as if an emperor embracing His own world.
In an instant, the chaotic torrent encompassing all colors and possibilities submerged Roselle's figure as well.
This resurrected Black Emperor's body quickly disintegrated, rapidly becoming ethereal.
"Dad…" Bernadette in the mausoleum below called out once more, but this time her voice was very low, like sleep-talking.
Almost simultaneously, outside the barrier, the white mist covering a certain planet suddenly contracted to its core, as if directly struck by the second Blasphemy Slate along with the chaotic torrent, revealing the weathered earth and dried-up seabed once again.
Immediately after, uncertain, dense white mist spread out again, with indescribable sounds echoing throughout the cosmos.
This caused even the extremely bright astral world to be covered by thin mist, making the entire world dim and dark.
The next second, the white mist, whose size and state were indescribable, detached from the previous planet.
That planet shattered silently, with various rocks and gasses ejecting outwards in waves.
Then, a chaotic sense encompassing all colors appeared on the surface of the dense, uncertain, and unviewable white mist.
It suddenly shrank, rapidly disappearing into the depths of the endless, dead, and dark cosmos.
…
On the streets of Trier, citizens saw the mist in the sky gradually dissipate, and the sun returned to normal—neither bright enough to blind human eyes nor dim as if at dusk.
The series of strange events that had just occurred were not forgotten by them, and the voice proclaiming "Emperor has returned" still lingered in their hearts.
"What exactly is happening to this world?" Many citizens had similar questions.
With these doubts and lingering fear, they turned their gaze to newsstands and nearby cathedrals.
On this day, mystical magazines like Psychic, Arcane, and Lotus sold out in Trier. Whether it was the Eternal Blazing Sun's cathedrals, God of Steam and Machinery's cathedrals, or The Fool's cathedral, all were packed with people.
Similarly, in cities large and small across the Northern and Southern Continents, like Backlund and Port Pylos, corresponding magazines were in short supply, and every cathedral was filled with believers.
…
Above the primitive island, Amon descended to a height level with the top of the Black Emperor mausoleum.
He looked at Queen Mystic Bernadette, who had just walked out of the mausoleum, and said in a deliberately indifferent tone, "For sixty years, the Uncertain Mist will not be able to come again. There will be one less danger to face at the time of the apocalypse.
"And as long as no new Black Emperor is born, as long as the order of human society has not completely collapsed, or this mausoleum has not been completely destroyed, Roselle will be able to resurrect from nothingness after a hundred years. At that time, with three types of corruption on Him, He will achieve a basic balance and be able to maintain basic humanity and clarity."
At this point, Amon laughed and changed His tone. "This is the future He claims, and also His promise to you."
Without waiting for Bernadette to respond, Amon grabbed at the air and tossed a crown inlaid with many dark gems that had just appeared, along with the Magic Wishing Lamp, to Queen Mystic.
"As a guarantee of the promise, the Black Emperor's Uniqueness shall be given to you.
"As long as you don't die, no new Black Emperor will appear."
Bernadette caught the dimly glowing crown and said in a low voice, "I hope the future He claims will inevitably unfold."
Amon pinched the monocle on His right eye and chuckled softly.
"This is not something I can answer on His behalf. Anyway, I've received my payment, and the ritual was completed just now."
As soon as He finished speaking, Amon, who no longer had the status of a true god, languidly took back the Blasphemy Slate and three other rays of light, disappearing into midair.
…
In front of the destroyed bloody altar.
After the world's darkness and mist at high altitudes retreated, Madam Magician cast her gaze towards the western sky.
As an Angel closely connected to the spirit world, she had already learned from the spirit world about what had just happened and the fate of her Minor Arcana cards.
"What's wrong?" Miss Justice asked.
Madam Magician's expression was very complex, and her tone carried a slight sigh.
"That evil god who preached in the name of Truth has suffered a heavy blow and must sleep for decades.
"This is good news. There's one less major danger for humanity to face during the apocalypse, and there won't be any Brokers running around making connections before the apocalypse.
"But Emperor Roselle has perished because of this. He may only have a chance to resurrect and return after a hundred years, and also…"
Madam Magician didn't continue.
Ma'am Hermit, who had lifted her hearing seal, and other Major Arcana card holders like Miss Justice and Madam Judgment also had rather complex expressions.
…
In a room five or six meters high in the New City of Silver.
Lumian had already brought Franca, Jenna, Anthony, and the subsequently recovered Ludwig, Lugano, and others to this place that could guarantee their safety.
Looking at Lumian with his black hair scattered and delicate features, Franca wanted to tease him a bit, but felt that his mood wasn't quite right.
She had always known that Lumian had considered switching to the Demoness pathway. For faster advancement, as long as he maintained his sense of self, he could completely switch back to the Hunter pathway later and become a man again. So Franca originally thought Lumian had made the decision to switch to Demoness this time to deal with the dangerous situation, but after careful observation, she felt it wasn't like that.
If it had been his own choice, Lumian wouldn't have hidden suppression and pain under his calmness!
Thinking of this, Franca glanced at the sky outside that had returned to azure, and deliberately said, "The vortex event seems to have ended. Very good, very good. The apocalypse didn't come, this world wasn't destroyed, and we're all still alive!"
As long as we're still alive, there's still hope!
Jenna also pondered for a moment before asking Lumian, "Do you want a change of clothes?"
Lumian looked at the two Demonesses and Anthony, then at Ludwig who was eating frantically without caring that his godfather had become a woman, and Lugano who occasionally stole glances at him. He said in a slightly low voice, "I'll explain the specifics later. I'm going somewhere now."
"By yourself?" Jenna asked.
Lumian nodded gently.
Franca didn't try to persuade him. She took out a black cloak she had bought when disguising as a Witch from the Traveler's Bag and threw it to Lumian.
Lumian put on the cloak and activated the black mark on his right shoulder.
He teleported to a deep valley where an ancient church stood, its surface water-black and carved with human skulls.
This was the first cathedral built by the Aurora Order for that True Creator.
Lumian entered this deep black church, walking step by step to the huge black cross inside. Along the way, there were no human presences, nor any unknown things blocking him.
After stopping, Lumian, wearing the black cloak, looked at the male deity statue hanging upside down on the cross. His gaze moved from the rusty iron nails piercing the deity's body and the fresh red blood rendered around them, all the way down to the face where all features were blurred except for the eyes, which were very clear, tightly closed, as if bearing all pain and guilt.
After staring for a few seconds, Lumian said in a low voice with a hint of magnetism, "One day, I will truly walk before you and tell you my answer."
After saying this, Lumian in his black cloak turned around and walked towards the outside of the cathedral.
At the same time, incandescent fireballs shot out from around him, flying towards different parts of this cathedral, flying towards the male deity statue hanging upside down on the black cross.
Rumble!
Pillars collapsed inside the cathedral, windows shattered, and corners were set ablaze.
Rumble!
The huge black cross was blasted to pieces, and the inverted statue crashed down, smashing into many fragments on the ground.
The statue's head separated from its neck, rolling a few times and becoming covered in dust.
Its face happened to face towards the silhouette of Lumian walking through the collapsing cathedral and raging flames, his black hair and cloak fluttering. The eyes remained tightly closed, as if bearing all pain and guilt.
God loves the world.
(End of Volume—Demoness)
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