〈Chapter 435〉 Deity and Priest
A desolate forest where trees grew sparsely.
Ash was fleeing, cutting across this forest.
From whom?
There was no need to glance back. Ash ran as if chased by the intense presence she could feel behind her, over and over again.
Her current state was markedly different from before.
She had once worn clothes that barely fulfilled their function, indirectly revealing her transcendence—a being so superior that garments were unnecessary.
Now, the tatters of rags draped around her body symbolized her downfall.
The days when she walked with the pristine bare feet of an elf, at ease, were long gone.
Ash’s feet were now caked in dirt, torn open by rocks she accidentally stepped on, yet she continued to run.
The crimson, cold blood she trailed pooled on the ground, freezing into a dark red hue.
The woman pursuing her noticed the streaks of blood as she passed and continued forward.
The drops of blood marked a trail leading out of the forest.
The pursuer tightened her grip on the axe in her hand and walked steadily.
She simply walked.
Though chasing someone who was running away would normally prompt one to run, she did not.
There was no attempt to conceal her presence or hide the fact that she was pursuing.
She merely pursued silently, buying time.
Due to the overwhelming difference in physical abilities, there was no resistance or ambush.
The pursuer, Ereta, followed Ash’s trail.
Meanwhile, Ash clutched her shoulder.
Her left arm was missing.
Regeneration was proceeding slowly. In the past, it would have been instantaneous, but not this time.
Because Ash now possessed a self.
This was all due to Aslan.
Gradually, Ash grew weaker, and eventually, she could no longer utilize all the divine power she possessed.
No longer did the Veil command her or even acknowledge her existence.
She had been abandoned.
Thus, Ash grew weaker.
Without the ability to wield divine power, Ash had no means of recovery.
Only the nature of her hybrid constitution remained, allowing for regeneration, though regrowing an entire arm was nearly impossible.
It would require a very long time.
In truth, using divine power would have easily resolved the issue, but she couldn’t.
Certainly, the divine power of the Veil’s herald still resided within her—it hadn’t vanished entirely.
It was just that she couldn’t draw it out.
She couldn’t bear the cost of doing so.
Divine power of such magnitude—capable of condensing within her body—was dangerous to wield without the Veil’s favor.
Using it without receiving blessings or aligning with its will was unwise.
Perhaps this was what the Veil intended.
Perhaps it sought to bring down its most powerful and ancient high priestess to summon just an arm or leg.
Ash clenched her lips tightly in sorrow and limped forward.
For other evil deities, this wouldn’t apply, but the Veil of Compassion was an exception.
Even a powerful deity lacked consciousness.
But the Veil transcended understanding—its thoughts were inscrutable.
Thus, there was no help from the Veil.
Not even when Ash briefly fought Ereta, lost her arm, and was kicked violently into the middle of the forest.
The Veil remained silent.
Worse still, the pursuer held an inherent advantage over Ash.
She was practically designed that way.
Perhaps because of this, Ash ran, burdened by various emotions.
She felt aggrieved and wronged.
And there was also a trace of unfamiliar emotion.
Whenever Ash thought of her pursuer, Ereta, she bit her lips in frustration.
Both were born as hybrids.
Naturally, they both ascended to become high priestesses and lived as such.
They shared commonalities in this regard.
Yet their outcomes were starkly different.
One became a new deity, neither an ancient god nor an evil deity.
She could carve her own path.
Even as a veteran, she had honed her skills.
While not considered the highest among existing veterans, her prowess proved otherwise in combat.
She was overwhelmingly defeated.
On the other hand, what about Ash?
She never honed her skills.
She relied solely on her innate strength and powers.
After losing everything, she had nothing left, unable to mount even a decent resistance.
All that remained was her physical form.
She was merely an abandoned priestess.
Ash felt humiliation and inferiority in this disparity.
An unfamiliar emotion she had never experienced before.
Clutching her racing heart, Ash ran.
Through the forest, following paths she would normally ignore.
Trusting the solid mass that seemed to protect her, she moved aimlessly.
Yet her direction remained steadfast.
Behind Ash’s escape route, Ereta pursued her.
With the axe resting casually on her back, she walked slowly.
Observing the frozen blood trails Ash left behind.
Maintaining a deliberate distance.
She avoided getting too close unnecessarily, not wanting to provoke Ash.
Ereta knew Ash wielded divine power and could sense the divine power Ash still harbored within.
She understood what might happen if Ash unleashed it.
Thus, she refrained from provoking her unnecessarily.
Both being wielders of divine power, they understood each other well.
Still, Ereta couldn’t comprehend Ash’s intent.
Was it a simple escape? It felt like Ash had a specific goal in mind.
It seemed as if she was desperately moving toward some destination.
She wasn’t giving up, nor was she ready to fight—not entirely, though there was a brief skirmish at first.
Once Ash realized the mismatch, she turned and headed somewhere else.
But where?
Why?
That was why Ereta kept pursuing her, despite knowing Ash posed no real threat.
Unsure of what Ash might do next, Ereta followed cautiously, avoiding provocation.
Hence, she summoned Aslan.
As Ereta pursued Ash, and Ash fled from Ereta,
The two women quietly traversed the forest. Only Ash’s labored breathing broke the silence.
They were in the Public Kingdom of Huedail.
Ahead of Ash lay only polluted land, devoid of any name.
Land ruined by the first descent of the Supreme Divinity.
The site where War and Knowledge perished under the Supreme Divinity, now an abandoned relic troubling the Duke Hudail’s Domain.
Truly, it was a barren land.
So contaminated that even priests rarely approached, ensuring that no ordinary person ventured near.
Ereta couldn’t figure out what Ash sought in such a place.
Meanwhile, Ash, gasping for breath, moved closer and then farther from an approaching presence.
She had a clear purpose.
Feeling the divine power of the Veil drawing nearer—specifically, the divine power of one who was once the heir of the Veil—she believed she was nearing her goal.
Few knew, but the Supreme Divinity was originally called the Heir of the Veil.
Simultaneously, the sole offspring of the Veil.
Back in the beginning, before earning the title of Supreme Divinity, this entity was stronger.
It diminished after consuming “nothingness” and becoming the Supreme Divinity.
War and Knowledge, the first entities the Supreme Divinity destroyed, undoubtedly perished meaninglessly, yet their power was undeniable.
Their caliber was worthy of being called the king of gods.
A stature built entirely by their own efforts.
Ash knew their stature and divine power lingered where they fell.
And through that divine power, she planned to attain a divinity akin to Ereta’s and survive.
That was her plan.
To acquire strength surpassing that of the Veil’s herald.
To exact revenge.
She resolved to do so.
With a clear objective, Ash suddenly stopped.
Pausing, the tattered remnants of her clothing fluttered in the breeze.
Her feet were dirty and bloodied, her face pale from blood loss.
Above that, her legs showed signs of strain.
Her right hand clutched her left shoulder, compensating for the missing arm, while her frail body was partially concealed by rags.
Amidst this, her eyes stood out clearly.
Unlike the Ash of before, these eyes vividly expressed emotion.
The twin orbs, containing the vastness of the universe, trembled slightly.
From the direction she gazed, a shadow stirred faintly.
Within the shadow, a mace aimed directly at her.
A mace completely blackened, as if forged from shadows themselves.
Ash recognized the weapon immediately.
It was crafted from the Abyss.
And the only person in the world capable of wielding such a weapon made from the Abyss was one individual.
“Ashlan…!”
A voice filled with shock, anger, despair, and frustration.
At the summons, a man stepped forward, parting the darkness.
Draped in a cloak of scales over his shoulders and clad in matching black scale armor, he aimed the Abyss-turned-mace at Ash.
Simultaneously, the deep divine presence and aura advancing from behind Ash halted.
At a distance close enough to hear footsteps, the sound of adjusting the axe handle echoed.
The soft crackling of white flames could also be heard.
Both parties stopped at a fixed distance, but for beings beyond human capability, it was a gap easily closed in an instant.
Seeing Aslan nearby, Ash scowled in shame.
She was so close.
Just a little more, and she could have returned to her former glory—or even surpassed it.
Lifting her gaze, Ash looked at Aslan, and Aslan met her eyes.
The apathetic green eyes versus the emotion-filled eyes holding the universe.
Beyond their locked gazes, the mace targeted her head.
Behind her, the weighty presence of the adjusted axe cut through the air.
Furthermore, the shadows around her position began to stir.
She was surrounded.
Ash, no longer a herald, had no way to break through against these three.
“Should I use divine power?”
But she had to think of something.
“But I won’t be able to move afterward. What should I do?”
Having existed thoughtlessly for thousands of years, Ash now strained her unfamiliar mind, biting her lips.
Her usual calm demeanor had long disappeared.
Though this sight might seem strange, Aslan paid no heed.
When he spoke, Ash’s expression stiffened at the words.
“What do you plan to do with the divine power of War and Knowledge?”
Her intentions were revealed. Ash’s heart, which had started racing again, pounded as if it would leap out of her mouth.
‘How?’
This was information known only to the Voracious Eater, who had survived since the dawn of the era of evil deities, and Ash herself.
It shouldn’t have come from Aslan’s mouth here and now.
As Ash glared rigidly, Aslan kept the mace aimed at her.
Only then did Ash recognize an unfamiliar human expression.
Aslan had maintained a composed demeanor all along.
Fittingly, Aslan thought:
If he had known this would happen, he would have arrived earlier.
He had foreseen waiting here with Ash.
This place was the grave of War and Knowledge.
The site where a deity perished and the age of ancient gods ended.
Additionally, this was the location of the final quest in Eternal Dominion, the game.
And the place where the final arrangement awaited.
Aslan understood what Ash desired, and Ash, realizing Aslan knew, wore an expression as if she might cry.
An expression unfitting for her mature feminine appearance.
Ash’s immature emotions churned restlessly.
