Chapter 436

Ash.

The woman known as the Herald of the Veil.

She was born a half-breed.

Born as a half-breed, she became a high priestess and, fittingly, obtained immense power.

Over the course of four thousand years, she killed and trampled upon countless humans.

The humanity crushed beneath her feet was innumerable, and the despair that welled up from beneath her was boundless.

Perhaps this was the inevitable conclusion.

Even recalling past events had become arduous for her now.

She felt wronged by what she currently endured.

It is natural for priests to gradually lose their memories as they come into contact with deities.

An explosion resounded.

Ash evaded an attack by throwing herself away, regretting the tattered rags wrapped around her as they tore.

Had something like this happened before? She thought it might have.

But she couldn’t remember.

After living four thousand years as a high priestess, losing even her sense of self, it was only natural.

There were few exceptions.

Like Tiyalmisof, who became a priest under favorable conditions, or Lewena, who served a special deity.

Or Ereta, who was born with unique abilities, like the one pursuing her now.

Even Tiyalmisof had lost parts of her memory, failing to recognize her own inventions; so it wasn’t surprising that Ash had lost most of hers.

This was why she hadn’t even considered retrieving her blueprints from the Traitor’s Fortress.

She didn’t remember, so there was no thought of retrieval.

Similarly, Ash could barely recall most of her life.

The only thing that surfaced was her most vivid memory.

Only after becoming a half-breed woman did she recall her most intense past.

The moment she became a high priestess.

As that memory surfaced, an attack surged toward her.

A precise shot aimed at her. An arrow dipped in abyssal poison.

When struck, it devoured her flesh. Her barely regenerating arm fell off.

From the shadow created by the severed arm, abyssal spikes pierced through Ash.

Her gut was skewered, her side split open, yet she kept running.

Ash lunged forward, and Ereta chased after her, swinging an axe.

An axe trailing white sparks. There was no avoiding it.

All Ash could do in response was unleash divine power to its limits.

Just below the threshold of death, she drew out the divine power of the Veil of Mercy, causing her intact leg to explode.

Creeeeek!

Condensed cold exploded, devouring everything around it, killing time and space alike, scattering splinters in all directions.

Ice and cold scattered in every direction, a storm of death.

As the assault paused, Ash ran forward.

Half her face was frozen and shattered, her ankles and shins frozen and broken, causing excruciating pain, but still, she pressed on.

Her goal was the Tomb of the Deity.

As the pursuit lessened while she ran, her thoughts were filled with reminiscence.

The treatment of half-breeds was undoubtedly poor.

Even in this era where the influence of evil deities was rampant, it was the same.

Being lucky enough to have martial talent and serve as royal guards was exceedingly rare.

Most half-breeds are killed along with their parents shortly after birth.

Some become priests, and others are devoured by their priest mothers.

Half-breeds are ominous beings, disasters that can be prevented beforehand.

Thus, humans kill them without hesitation, even if they look just like humans.

During the times when evil deities weren’t in power, it was even worse.

The very existence of half-breeds was not tolerated.

Ash was born in such a time.

The daughter of a mother violated by a priest of the Veil, and a mother who couldn’t harm the life in her womb.

That was Ash.

Days spent fleeing and hiding from ancient deity priests.

Memories of those difficult moments from nearly four thousand years ago still brought rising indignation.

In the end, there was nothing left but being cruelly captured and killed.

Ultimately, Ash and her mother were caught.

Every conceivable charge of blasphemy was pinned on them.

Condemnation followed.

Her mother fought to protect her child, who was clearly not human, and died in the process.

It seemed that even a strong mother couldn’t stand against dozens of enraged people.

Her greatest crime was not noticing the abnormality of the life in her womb and giving birth to it.

Her second crime was not strangling the life she bore.

Facing unreasonable accusations and murder, Ash shed tears.

She was undoubtedly not human.

Undoubtedly the child of a priest.

But she was certainly alive and wanted to coexist.

Just as she does now.

White flames erupted, and black arrows poured from behind her.

They embedded themselves in her spine, eliciting an involuntary gasp, and blood spurted out.

Swinging her barely regenerated arm, she unleashed divine power, which shattered into ice shards.

Her frozen eyes detached and fell from her face, and her frozen blood congealed, dirtying the floor.

Ash left these remnants behind and moved forward.

Toward the land steeped in the divine power of the heir of the Veil of Mercy.

Ash glanced back at those chasing her and smirked when she saw them invade that land without any difficulty.

Aslan resisted with purity, just as he resisted Ash’s radiance.

Ereta repelled the cold with white flames forged from her divine power.

Lewena avoided the cold within Aslan’s shadow.

They pursued Ash.

While being chased by them, Ash simply moved forward.

Hoping that there would be an answer ahead, that achieving her goal would allow her to dramatically transcend.

Desperately hoping.

As she dropped her shattered pieces onto the ground, she recalled the first time she became a high priestess.

It was the moment she screamed to live for the first time.

When her mother was killed, and those who killed her sought to kill Ash for countless charges.

Weapons wielded by devout believers of the ancient deity were aimed at her.

Ash resisted. Although her resistance was no different from that of a child.

She was torn and slashed.

Where she was cut, ice flowed instead of blood, and frozen tears rolled down her tiny face instead of real ones.

Still, she wanted to live.

So she prayed.

Desperately, to anyone who would listen.

To save her, to let her do anything.

The Veil of Mercy answered her prayer.

She responded to the call, and appropriately transcendent, the deity simply responded to the call and bestowed power.

Thus was born the first half-breed high priestess of Geladridion.

Crack!

An arrow flew. It pierced Ash’s leg, breaking through the cold, causing her to fall forward.

With her completely shattered leg, it was obvious she wouldn’t be able to stand again, but Ash crawled forward, covering her tattered rags in dirt.

Finally, her goal was right in front of her.

Ash saw a fallen entity similar to her own state.

The remains of a deity, reduced to the lower half of the body, with fragments of armor still attached.

The god, covered in white steel, whose original form was unrecognizable—the remains of the God of War and Knowledge.

Finally arriving, Ash smiled brightly.

Ecstasy, accomplishment, relief—these emotions swirled across her face.

Her hands crumbled as Ash reached toward the deity.

Struggling to survive, she sought to claim divine power.

Her rapidly disintegrating hand.

Ash stretched it desperately and touched the remains of the God of War and Knowledge before it completely shattered.

The will to live was a natural instinct of life.

Once a herald, though differing greatly from ordinary humans,

Ash was undoubtedly alive.

She sought to enjoy her rightful life.

Aslan sought to stop her.

To avoid the absurd situation of failing due to interference in the final main quest, he crafted abyssal longbows and bows, aiming them.

He pulled the string precisely, intending to sever her arm with one strike.

On the other hand, Ereta prepared to completely shatter her, pulling her heavy two-handed axe back, imbued with white flames.

Before Aslan released the string or Ereta showcased her skill with an axe throw, divine power erupted from the remains of the God of War and Knowledge.

BOOOOM!

It erupted alongside a loud noise.

Aslan, surprised by the sight, released the string, and the arrow that flew struck Ash’s side.

Sharp pain jolted through her brain, but despite it, Ash smiled with joy.

The divine power erupting—this would surely surpass the power of the Herald of the Veil.

She opened her chest and spread her arms to accept the divine power, but…

The divine power passed through her.

As if Ash wasn’t even there.

“A…?”

It passed through Ash and headed toward Aslan.

“No, no!”

She reached out her hand. Desperately reaching out, even though there was no way she could grasp the divine power.

But the moment she reached out, her arm collapsed.

It felt like fate itself was speaking to her.

You don’t deserve to live.

Ash realized her plan had failed.

Despair quickly washed over her face.

Sitting there, she knew her legs were broken beyond repair.

Watching the divine power flow into Aslan, she understood her plan was irrevocably ruined.

With a crackling sound, Ash’s body began to break apart.

And Ash, as she broke apart, realized death was imminent.

Frustration enveloped her.

It was an overwhelming despair.

There was no way to reverse this situation, no means.

So she revealed her feelings with the half-face she had left.

Her face contorted, and Ash suddenly looked up at the sky.

“Save… me.”

A faint murmur, as if letting go of something.

She continued to cry out.

Anyone, please save her.

She would do anything if someone saved her.

Anything, if only she could be saved.

Even if she had to live as a slave for thousands of years, she would follow.

She didn’t want to die so meaninglessly.

She cried out fervently, wishing deeply.

She hoped.

For an omnipotent being to take notice of her.

And perhaps grant her survival.

For a miracle.

Just like when she first became a high priestess.

Only this time, no deity responded to her.

Not even the Immovable One, who had the most remaining strength and showed little interest in Geladridion.

Not even the parasites clinging to her body.

Neither of the two absolute beings who despised the deity she once served.

Nor even the Veil of Mercy, which had already abandoned her.

None of them spared her a glance.

Instead, she could feel it.

All gazes and focus were centered on Aslan.

Ash saw Aslan standing under the gaze of all gods.

She saw Aslan, who had taken away the divine power she thought was her hope.

The man who awakened her sense of self and plunged her into the abyss of ruin.

He was radiant.

The pure white greatsword in his hand, its blade blazing white, with characters floating all over the sword body.

Characters whiter than pure white, almost transparent.

The balance of war and knowledge.

Ash gazed at Aslan, who was different from herself, who was dying alone, and then smiled.

“Haha…”

It was a bitter smile.

Her broken arm collapsed, and Ash, having lost both arms and legs, lifted her head.

“Save… me. Please…”

Murmuring words no one would hear, she wept.

Frozen tears streamed down her face.

She closed her eyes in frustration.

She knew there would be no miracles or salvation.

Clearly, miracles and salvation don’t come just because you wish for them.

Only humans who overcome the most desperate and precarious moments can hold miracles and enjoy salvation.

Therefore.

What always comes to those who fail isn’t a god but a devil.

Ash, with her eyes closed, the Herald of the Veil who laughed bitterly.

She stiffened while laughing and slowly raised her head as if hearing something.

Then she blankly stared at the night sky without stars or moon, greeted by empty darkness.

As she crumbled, she stopped, and Ash strained her ears.

She focused on the voice tickling her ear.

It was temptation.

Very sweet temptation.

Someone wanted something from her.

And she was ready to offer it willingly.

Ash smiled blissfully and said,

“I shall offer everything I have.”

At that moment, her sclera turned black.

[Ongoing Main Quest]

[! Defeat the High Priest of the Dark Ram Herd, ë²ë¦¼ ë°ì ìž ì· ì‰¬]

[! Head towards the Throne of the Gods, Kehil]