Chapter 178

It was a well-charred staff, darkened and discolored.

It didn’t look like something that had been touched or shaped to form at all.

Instead, its curves and bends were left intact, as if nature itself had crafted it.

Heeba stood there, gripping it with one hand, her foot planted firmly on the ground.

When I interacted with her, the military deity’s attitude towards her was much more aggressive than when dealing with Bereratragena.

As if she had encountered a situation worse than insubordination.

She shouted, her eyes glaring intensely, making the surrounding air feel colder by several degrees, sending shivers down my spine.

This wasn’t the kind of intimidation a mere boy could muster.

“Hmph.”

But…

Heeba was smiling.

“I don’t fully understand, but really, this place is quite fair. If someone as frail as me can interfere so easily…”

With that, Heeba lifted her staff off the ground and charged fearlessly towards the military deity.

In the stance of the boy standing there to receive her attack, it was clear he felt no obligation or qualification to show minimal respect for her.

Still…

Heeba, wielding not just her staff but also a sword she’d pulled from her sleeve in an instant, moved with surprising skill.

Though the boy deflected, intercepted, and dodged each strike barehanded, showing incredible divine prowess…

…Heeba’s techniques weren’t lacking in any way.

The boy continued his counterattacks, but Heeba adeptly evaded and countered them, leading to an intense exchange beyond imagination.

However, when her wrist was struck and she lost her grip on the sword in her left hand, the boy swiftly seized it and slashed through part of her pitch-black cloak.

Only thanks to her quick dodge did the damage stop there.

“Do you think I’ve become easy prey just because I’ve lost my strength and authority?”

“Absolutely. Back then, you wouldn’t have even allowed such an approach, right?”

They exchanged words, accepting that mutual respect and reverence were now meaningless and unnecessary.

All that remained was one thing:

Battle.

Struggle.

A fight to the death.

If we don’t crush or kill our opponent, we’ll inevitably be branded as failures, burdened with that fate.

“How careless!”

Heeba blocked the boy’s sword with her staff.

He retaliated fiercely, thrusting his blade deeply toward her.

Heeba narrowly avoided it, kicking him hard in the inner knee with her heel.

Anticipating this, the boy redirected the sword in reverse grip and slammed it down.

It barely grazed her skin.

Their exchanges happened in the blink of an eye, and without hesitation, the boy pressed forward again.

Heeba responded coldly, dodging persistently while using her staff to probe for openings.

The military deity seemed calm and collected despite the chaos.

Even though Heeba appeared precarious, she fought with unwavering confidence, something I couldn’t fully comprehend.

And sensing this, the boy asked after creating some distance.

“I admit your agility is remarkable. But you… lack both the means and capability to face me. Why do you persist?”

“Does it matter?”

There was something unsettling about their exchange.

A flash of insight struck me within seconds.

“…”

I forced myself to stand upright.

“Are you done catching your breath?”

As I staggered toward them, the boy looked at me with skepticism, as if rejecting a favor.

“You should take advantage of every opportunity to win. Right now, your priority should be recovering stamina—not forcing yourself into battle with sheer willpower.”

Who doesn’t know that?

But who guarantees it’s the right answer?

“While moving around, if you rest too much because you’re tired… won’t your body just collapse? Let’s go with that analogy.”

“Huh.”

Regulating my breathing forcefully, I glanced at Heeba once before stepping forward.

Given how limited my options are now—with my body far from normal—the only thing I can do is make the most of the opportunities given to me.

“This will be different from before.”

The sword in his hand, though small and narrow, would still suffice to tear flesh and pierce internal organs.

Slashing across the throat would certainly be fatal.

He dashed forward in five rapid steps, closing the gap with astonishing speed.

His momentum and velocity exceeded simply throwing himself into the fray.

Because he pushed off the ground, predicting his movements and preparing defenses became incredibly difficult.

Pretending to charge, he paused mid-motion, then shifted slightly to strike my left flank.

By holding the sword in his right hand, he intentionally restricted my movement, forcing me into erratic actions.

If I fail to respond, he’ll penetrate my defenses like a bird diving into prey.

So, I reacted by shifting my left foot diagonally, leaving my upper body exposed.

Since the sword in his right hand extended forward, using it for propulsion was impossible.

But with subtle finger movements, countering effectively wouldn’t be too difficult.

Swinging wildly with excessive force doesn’t necessarily make an attack stronger.

In real combat, starting and ending with perfect posture is rare.

Situations where you can execute maximum-effort moves are uncommon due to fatigue, injuries, or other factors.

Clang!

In fact, reversing the grip often requires less effort than holding it normally.

When holding it correctly, precise control over the wrist and arm is necessary.

But with a reversed grip, focusing solely on elbow movement simplifies things.

This makes the sword function as both an excellent shield and a useful close-quarters weapon.

Though there’s a risk of being hurt if the sword gets pushed back toward my body, I prioritize preventing that.

Clang! Clang! Crack!

The boy’s sword lunged toward me like a gale, blocked multiple times, then shifted to target my arm and hand.

I deflected it outward and stepped back carefully.

Retreating recklessly would only give him more momentum to press forward.

The dynamics of power differ entirely between advancing and retreating.

Whoosh!

The staff whistled past my ear, striking at a diagonal angle.

I blocked it with my sword, which Heeba then swung downward to knock the boy’s sword away.

Had it aimed for his head, he skillfully raised his sword to block it.

Yet the force behind it was immense, pushing his sword backward significantly.

Despite the glancing blow, the impact seemed minimal.

“Arrogant brat!”

Seizing the staff with his empty left hand, the boy pulled Heeba toward him.

Without hesitation, she launched a kick aimed directly at his face during the pull.

“Graaah!”

Thud!

Her kick connected squarely with his face, the sound loud enough to suggest broken bones.

Due to the strength of his pull, Heeba flew several paces before crashing to the side.

Dust swirled like mist, obscuring the view of Heeba flying through the air and the boy rolling on the ground multiple times.

“Tremendously wicked!”

The boy rose quickly, muttering disdainfully.

His pristine white robes were now even more disheveled, having fallen involuntarily rather than voluntarily.

“Pointless resistance. Do you still fail to grasp the gap between us?”

“…So, you’d willingly admit defeat in terms of quality?”

“There’s no chance of that. Victory is my only path. Temporary setbacks are merely part of the process.”

“In that case, we understand why we’re doing this.”

“Our positions differ. Judging inequality as equality is inherently absurd. Can a small bird share the same domain as a mighty firebird?”

“…Ultimately, it’s all about glorifying and elevating yourselves, isn’t it?”

“Is there a problem with that? We walk the correct path, guiding and leading those who stray. What judgment is needed here?”

“So, you justify oppressing us?”

“It’s a matter of potential. The greater your sins and powers, the bigger the threat if your hearts turn corrupt. Preventing such disasters preemptively isn’t wrong, is it?”

“And yet, you offer no guarantee that we can live peacefully and quietly!”

“It’s about probability. Leaving obvious calamities unchecked is foolishness. While I may empathize with your plight, allowing and tolerating it is another issue entirely.”

“Clearly… we can’t reason with you.”

“We’re communicating fine. But there’s neither room nor willingness to accept it.”

“…”

Why bother arguing when communication clearly won’t work?

Perhaps venting frustration is necessary sometimes.

Ah, yeah. This boiling anger might subside if released somehow. I used to feel this way too, but forgot quickly.

Or maybe my body’s deteriorating state clouds my judgment?

It’s a different kind of exhaustion, making me certain that closing my eyes here would mean eternal sleep.

“Alright then. I get it. I won’t ask for anything more.”

Winning through fighting—that’s the answer.

But…

Looking at her desolate gaze, I sensed her thoughts and intentions differed greatly from mine.

“Don’t you still not know who I am, even after coming this far?”

“Hmm.”

Apparently not.

“Carriel.”

Heeba called out to me, requesting something.

“At this rate, you won’t be able to endure much longer in this space. Let it go.”

“Will you be alright? Without divine rank or authority, this is one of the few chances to harm me. Perhaps now… you could snatch victory from me. Yet, you’re asking me to abandon this decisive decision made at great cost?”

“You talk a lot too, don’t you?”

“What did you say?”

Khhrrrroooaaarrr!

Finally, the steel warrior collapsed.

The golden greatsword he wielded clattered onto the ground with a resounding thud.

—Working against each other when unity is needed is why you fail. Even I, the arbiter of doubt, worry about your constant quarrels… Haha. How amusing.

The dragon stirred, charging toward us without restraint.

“The situation has changed. Perhaps you should heed her request this time, honorable one. Though… what this implies remains…”

The sound of the dragon launching off the ground drowned out everything else.

A thunderous roar shook the earth, making it nearly impossible to stand.

‘So, it wasn’t meant to be yet.’

Dominatus Pecata. That’s why I came here—to properly utilize it.

I pushed myself too hard.

Still, honestly, I’m angry.

Annoyance bubbled up inside me.

At their lofty perspectives and superior gazes, rage boiled over.

‘Even so.’

Every action holds meaning.

Don’t belittle or dismiss your deeds as meaningless or useless.

Once begun…

Push through to the end.

Achieve it completely.

Beginnings and endings…

They lie within my hands.

The light surrounding my body dissipated.

Even the darkness shrank to shadow size.

Together with it…

“To me, crises are but gusts of sandstorms! Thus, I prove: I always triumph, and I will always triumph…”

Yeah.

May you forever win.

Never experience defeat.

Just keep winning.

“…?”

That faint voice.

Amidst the triumphant proclamation of the deity, Bereratragena…

And Ahriman, the serpent-like darkness emerging from the dragon’s form…

“Why is that?”

For some reason, Heeba displayed a sorrowful yet extremely chilling smile.

“Isn’t victory only meaningful when there’s a stage for it?”

“You…?”

“With the assistance of Muspellschynir, I humbly beseech thee. Father of all trees, fulfill thy duty as destroyer of worlds! Only thou canst!”

I shall purify this land!

“In the name of the Mistress of Great Destruction, Shinarama…”

“Barahraaan!”

The boy turned back into a deity, urging with a voice like thunder.

Instantly, his avatar descended around him.

But before that…

“Hevatein.”

At the mention of that name…

From the charred staff held by the deity-turned-boy…

Suddenly, flames erupted.

The red pillar of fire transformed abruptly into blue flames.

The deity’s body was engulfed in flames.

Yet the scale was absurd, dwarfing the boy’s small frame entirely.

Kiieeeek!

Somewhere, a firebird pierced through the blue flames—a scene I’d seen before.

But something was different this time.

Back then, wasn’t the firebird battling crimson flames?

“That time… I couldn’t unleash it properly.”

Heeba stumbled toward me.

“Now… it’s different…”

She seemed confused yet oddly relieved, visibly perplexed.

“Now, it’s beginning.”

With the bleating of sheep, the boy, scorched but still standing, screamed in agony.

“Aaaaaaargh!!”

Yet he didn’t flail.

Standing tall, he roared in pain, enduring it fully.

“So! I remember this! You! The branch that wounds! Were you the guardian of the unburnable branches of the Sacred Grand Tree?!”

“…You’re persistent.”

The sheep bleated repeatedly.

The firebird, the burning deity, and the avatars caught in the blaze all rose despite their fiery torment.

Burning alive equally.

“But do you know something?”

She wasn’t addressing anyone specific—likely speaking to me since she didn’t raise her voice.

Yet the deity, seemingly delirious, still prompted a response.

Heeba ignored him completely.

From the burning boy’s body and amidst the colossal avatars encircling him…

An unprecedented surge of killing intent radiated out, choking the air.

But…

The worst thing for me right now wasn’t their murderous aura.

“…”

The pain, the suffering, returned with vengeance.

My already weakened body suffered immensely from the excruciating agony.

“Isn’t it tough?”

“…”

Heeba consoled me softly, more like a murmured soliloquy than a question.

When did I collapse?

Half-relying on her now.

She gently lowered me, supporting me carefully.

“That’s an artifact that once destroyed the world.”

And that flame, once ignited, will never extinguish…

…until it burns everything in existence.

“Back then, I hesitated… Watching someone burn alive was too painful… I couldn’t bear it, so I faltered, and we perished.”

How deeply she regretted that.

“But now, it’s fine.”

She struggled to breathe as she spoke.

“…Just confirmed there’s no hope left in this world.”

She whispered faintly.

“Unlocking the seal. From the eldest… to the seventh.”

The moment those words ended…

The blue flames…

Turned black.

Black flames soared skyward, roaring.

The world, all creation, burned darkly and fiercely.

Right before our eyes, the black destruction that once consumed the world arrived anew.

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