The severed arm rolls across the floor.
Yet, no blood flowed from the severed arm.
Likewise, there was no blood from the socket where the arm had been attached.
Because Ados, the owner of the arm, had no heart.
But the lack of blood and heartbeat did not mean that emotions had frozen over.
Ados was startled to find Aslan in the rift between a fractured past and present.
Aslan’s appearance here now was clearly against the plan.
According to the original plan, Tiyalmisof should have been either persuading Aslan or buying time.
But now, Tiyalmisof was being held by Aslan’s black-scaled hand and rolling on the ground.
Time wasn’t bought. Or rather, enough time wasn’t bought.
What awaited was clear.
For whatever reason, those who had slain the deity would not leave Tiyalmisof and Ados’ plans alone.
So Ados and Tiyalmisof had first sought to recruit them.
Clearly, the persuasion failed.
Likewise, stalling for time also failed.
The plan itself had failed.
Humans would not achieve transcendence and would remain weak.
Ados wouldn’t be able to establish a new order, and the world would still be overrun with evil and chaos.
It was clear. The conclusion fell like transparent river water, clean and inevitable.
But Ados could not accept this ending.
A being without a heart, without flowing blood, something more than human—this Ados did not give up.
Having risen as a specter to become the priest of a predator, she had abandoned humanity.
She had discarded even the tiniest trace of her humanness.
Tiyalmisof, who had forsaken her flesh, and Ados, who had forsaken her humanity—these two women had dreams.
Even against such a definitive future, Ados struggled.
Pzzzzzzz!
Despite the severed arm, she summoned mana.
Boiling lightning. Faster than any straight shot, Aslan anticipated it and grabbed Ados’ intact arm.
Pzzt!
And just like that, the current ceased.
Ados flinched as she felt the mana gathered within her dissipate.
It was an anti-magic spell.
Such a high-level technique, possible only for a handful of mages throughout history, including Tiyalmisof.
As Boren, his fallen disciple, had once remarked, Aslan’s anti-magic was especially combative.
Simultaneously disrupting the mana flow, Aslan moved.
He turned, threw her. Grabbing the captured arm, he swung her around. Ados, already light in weight, felt the world spin with that motion.
Kwang!
Thus, the sound that followed was smaller than expected. Few stones cracked as she hit the ground.
Thanks to the peak skill and superhuman strength, the force was amplified, but there was little damage to the thrown Ados.
Similarly, there was no sensation of pain. After all, her body lacked the ability to feel it.
But the form modeled after a human’s body instinctively stiffened at the non-existent pain.
It stopped. Just for a moment, but it stopped.
In that pause, Aslan pounced, mounting atop her.
Aslan’s massive frame loomed over Ados’ body.
With his forearm, Aslan pressed down on Ados’ neck.
With his knees, he pinned her legs and thighs.
And with his black-scaled hand, he grasped and pinned her wrist.
“Ugh…!”
Every attempt to summon mana scattered into pieces.
She tried to move her body to shake him off, but his perfect technique stifled even that.
Each time she wriggled, he adjusted his center of gravity to press down harder. There was no way for Ados to escape from beneath him.
It was humiliating. Being completely subdued like this was intensely degrading.
Still, she didn’t stop resisting.
Futile though it might seem.
She couldn’t give up.
She couldn’t give up now.
Doing nothing and accepting defeat was exhausting.
Recalling the meaningless death of Law and Order, remembering how order itself became buried in filth afterward.
Remembering the chaos that engulfed the world without remedy.
Instead of admitting defeat by saying there was nothing she could do, she wriggled several times.
Unlike ancient gods who helplessly accepted their defeat, she intended to struggle until the end.
Aslan looked down at Ados dispassionately.
“Aslan. Ados… requests survival…”
13th initially hesitated mid-sentence, intending to plead for sparing her life, then fell silent.
The traveling party, ready to intervene upon Aslan’s movement, quietly observed.
Thus, in the silence, the only sound echoing was Ados’ resistance.
“Guh…!”
Through her groaning, Aslan continued to pin her down.
“You’ve lost.”
Only then did he utter those words, and upon hearing them, Ados finally stopped and clenched her mouth shut.
Humiliation made her eyes tremble.
No miracle occurred.
Of course, it didn’t, but Ados found it disheartening.
“C-kill me.”
Aslan’s cold reply came as she closed her trembling eyes: “That’s for me to decide.”
At Aslan’s answer, Ados merely kept her lips sealed and closed her eyes.
It was humiliating and degrading.
But it was the truth.
Always, the victor decides the fate of the defeated; the reverse does not hold true.
Ados had no right to argue.
She had merely urged her own death out of fear of humiliation and shame that might come.
Biting her teeth, Ados asked while keeping her eyes closed.
“What do you want?”
“Everything you possess.”
When Ados opened her eyes and her pupils quivered, Aslan added,
“Space travel, the magic of the Anuritin Council, all research results, and everything investigated since your resurrection as a specter.”
At this bold declaration, Ados realized the full extent of her defeat.
From the start, victory was distant.
Their only chance lay in the plan they’d just failed.
“If you need our power… isn’t there a way to form an alliance?”
Thus, Ados spoke, but Aslan silently shook his head at her suggestion.
“That’s not my way.”
The following words sounded like something he’d already told someone else.
“Selecting lives, sifting through those who must die and those who are chosen, mechanically killing humans—that is not my path.”
Ados blinked in shock as her methods were rejected.
She was frustrated, expecting worse results.
Hadn’t she actively showcased the usefulness of the council to avoid this? Hadn’t her proposal for an alliance been for that very reason?
Trying to avoid conflict, yet things were different now.
Ados had long observed Aslan and knew there was no outcome where they could bypass a clash.
Hence, she gambled.
Thinking that perhaps his mechanical or compassionate beliefs about humanity might bend under greater benefits offered by Tiyalmisof.
But she was wrong.
Aslan neither bent nor turned away.
He chose his own path as he pleased.
If only 13th hadn’t intervened, it wouldn’t have come to this.
Realizing then, Ados understood that the arbitrary actions of 13th were influenced by Aslan.
It was a complete defeat.
Chewing on her loss, Ados opened and closed her mouth several times before shutting it again.
Embarrassed, she lowered her gaze and said,
“…The world needs order. This world is pure chaos. With gods changing, the world transforming… humans have repeated sins within this chaos.”
At this unexpected statement, Aslan quietly gazed at her, prompting Ados to continue,
“Countless humans have suffered and will continue to suffer. So… I beg you. Become the new order.”
Only after finishing her plea did Aslan respond,
“Do you ask me to become a god?”
Ados hesitated, opening her mouth again before carefully choosing her words,
“God, emperor, leader, focal point—anything will do. Though it’s disappointing that it’s not me, if someone could establish order in my place…”
“I refuse.”
Ados’ eyes widened.
“If you won’t cooperate―”
“Do so, then.”
His firm response left Ados confused and irritated as she tightly closed her mouth again.
“…I understand. I’m not in a position to propose anything. But humanity needs order… you too…”
“No.”
Interrupted mid-sentence, Ados fell silent, and Aslan looked at her.
Pressed down, light enough to be lifted by one hand, missing an arm, and clearly subordinate—yet Ados fidgeted and expressed irritation.
Looking at her for a moment, Aslan answered,
“The world does need order. However, it’s something humans must achieve themselves—not something granted by an absolute entity.”
Facing Ados whose eyes resembled Lumel’s but fundamentally differed in hue, Aslan continued,
“It must be created through mutual thought, discussion, and adjustment. A mere individual, a god who doesn’t understand humans—if they try to establish order, it will only result in another kind of chaos.”
Thus, your order is unnecessary. Upon hearing this addition, Ados bowed her head.
“Then what exactly do you intend to do?”
Her voice tinged with irritation. To which Aslan replied,
“I’ll kill the gods, change the world, and leave the rest to people.”
“Surely things won’t go according to plan―”
“Yes, perhaps there will be confusion. Perhaps there will be fights, and evil will persist.”
“Then…!”
Despite Ados’ desperate look, Aslan remained unwavering.
“But there will also be goodness. Valuable victories achieved through thought and action, acts of kindness.”
The crimson eyes of Ados met the teal eyes of Aslan.
“Without being swayed by fate, without receiving commands from an absolute being, without being shaken by imposed sins—only by adhering to standards and thoughts they’ve established themselves—there will be humanity’s goodness.”
His tone was resolute, making Ados forget her mockery of idealism.
“Goodness isn’t the result but the process. The world will gradually improve through people striving to be better and care more for others. That’s what I hope for.”
“Why?”
“Because Geladridion is wrong.”
Still pinned, Ados saw Aslan’s vision.
“People don’t dream of tomorrow because there’s no guarantee it will be better than today. Because there’s no future. Similarly, they can’t envision a better self. A world where virtue is trampled and surviving requires evil—that is Geladridion.”
There are certainly too many gods in this world.
Upon Aslan’s additional remark, Ados recalled a distant past.
Before the descent of the Evil Deity, the former state Geladridion once possessed.
“I will change Geladridion. I will restore it to what it should be. Through methods only Human Aslan can employ, I’ll handle matters within Human Aslan’s reach.”
“There’s no way that will happen. It will surely fail…”
“I trust in people.”
At these words, Ados firmly shut her mouth.
Ados didn’t trust people.
Tiyalmisof loved humanity but didn’t trust people.
Contrarily, Aslan trusted people.
The conversation ended there, destined to never align.
Within this divergence, Aslan’s black-scaled hand reached out and rested on Ados’ chest.
“What are you…?”
Ados, puzzled by the hand placed on her chest, furrowed her brow before slowly widening her eyes.
There was no sense of divine power emanating from Tiyalmisof’s shell.
That shell was truly empty.
This sight seemed connected to what Aslan was about to do.
Before Ados could interpret the distorted, incomprehensible mechanical sound that suddenly rang in her ear, Aslan spoke,
“You said you wouldn’t cooperate. I told you to do as you please. But… frankly, it didn’t matter.”
Because eventually, you’ll cooperate anyway.
Along with those words, an unfamiliar divine power began to seep from the Dragon King’s hand.
The grand priest, a masterpiece created by the predator, channeled divine power through the Dragon King’s arm.
It penetrated deep into Ados, severing her connection to the predator.
This divine power greedily devoured the predator’s divine essence.
Ravenously replacing every bit of the original inscribed divine essence until none remained.
The process brought no pain, no loss, no death.
Indifferently, Ados transformed.
Only after everything concluded did she realize the nature of this divine power.
It was Abyssal Divine Power.
And when she regained consciousness, she had become a priest of the Abyss.
