Chapter 736

Chapter 121 Epilogue

“At that time, if there were still guys like you, running up to me with a look of fear and unease or righteous indignation, accusing me, deceiving me, plotting against me, saying I am an utterly evil devil…”

The young girl slowly exhaled.

She looked at the young priest in front of her, who had closed his eyes, seemingly resigned to his fate. The calm and innocent tranquility on her delicate face had been replaced by an unwavering and almost merciless coldness. “Then I will use my actions to prove to you that what you say is true.”

“Because when the moment truly arrives, I will make sure you all feel firsthand what the most terrifying devil in this world is really like.”

Whoosh—

The young girl clad in black armor suddenly spread her bat wings behind her. Scarlet flames and pitch-black smoke swirled around her once more. The blood-red light in her eyes made her look truly demonic.

“But these words…”

In the swirling light mist, the young girl slowly raised her right hand, extending it flat as a blade, and then without hesitation, she struck down hard on the bishop’s head: “There’s no need for you to take them back to the West Continent.”

Buzz—!!

At this moment, the young man named Aresta suddenly opened his eyes. He was already aware that death was imminent. How could he not fight desperately? As the girl’s hand blade descended fiercely, he let out a desperate scream of despair, his expression twisted in agony. Holy golden light radiated from his body in the most dazzling stream.

He lunged at the devil!

“My brother will find you! You can’t escape anywhere! You can’t escape—”

Boom!!!

Golden light collided with black mist, creating an ear-splitting explosion on the barren land. Red flames and thick smoke rose up, forming a massive mushroom cloud. The bishop’s final cries were drowned out by the immense noise and vanished.

After a while.

As the tremors gradually subsided, the dust and smoke in the air dissipated. The figure emerging from the center of the explosion was none other than the petite, seemingly unharmed girl who stood immovable like a demon.

Her wings had retracted and transformed back into flowing dark mud, retreating into her body. Her horns and tail had also been retracted. Her silver hair was losing its color amidst the dust, turning into the familiar ink-black hue of winter.

Before her, the young bishop’s struggling form had turned to ashes in the explosion, disappearing forever from this world.

A short while later.

The girl lifted her head from the ashes.

She gazed at the western sky, her bloodthirsty gaze gradually fading as dark clouds silently dissipated. Brilliant sunlight poured through the gaps, illuminating the sorrowful earth once more.

She stared at the scene for a moment, then took a deep breath, her lips parting slightly.

“…I will tell him myself.”

Her voice, soft and ethereal like floating clouds, seemed to be speaking to the souls of the dead on this barren land, or perhaps to herself in a whisper.

And in the distant western sky, a fierce wind seemed to approach steadily.

Someone was coming.

A blue flash suddenly appeared.

The girl vanished into the sudden breeze, leaving no trace behind.

…

Gentle winds blew through the freely pouring sunlight, stirring up the dust over the land.

Everything that happened here, the fleeting or eternal desires and emotions of everyone, were ultimately swallowed by the seemingly endless black abyss. The simple town, the deceased, after the frenzied and brutal slaughter, left no significant mark.

But within the endless abyss, protected by towering ice walls, the Pope’s knight named Carlos Gonzales might be the only one still alive and truly witnessed the awakening of calamity.

But at this moment, due to excessive blood loss, he had yet to regain consciousness from his coma.

“Carlos!”

“Carlos—”

Burning embers flickered, leaping across the solidified charred black soil. The red-haired woman’s shadow moved like a fierce wind, crossing the nearly completely submerged ground, still finding a few places to step on, rushing towards the untouched land at the end. She ran toward the pure land enclosed by several standing ice walls.

She jumped onto one of the ice walls and saw the weakened and unconscious swordsman Carlos lying inside the giant ice.

“Ca…los…” The woman’s face suddenly lost its color. “Who did this… Who…”

Wrapped in her cloak, her graceful figure leaped down from the ice wall without hesitation. The woman carefully held the unconscious swordsman and looked at his pale, bloodless face with sorrow, tears welling up in her red eyes.

“Damn it… You deceived me… Carlos, you deceived me… Why?”

She regretted trusting the man’s words.

But after crying, the woman did not lose her composure. She did not choose to stay here and wait blindly. Suppressing her complex emotions, she soon left quietly with Carlos, heading rapidly toward the direction of the dunes to the east.

On this desolate land, carrying an injured swordsman close to death, how far could this woman go? Would she have a chance to save the man she cared for? If they faced the church again in the future, what choices would they make? The answers to these questions might only be left to time.

I hope he can survive…

I hope…

There will be a chance to meet again.

The figures of the two faded away, imprinted in the eyes of the young girl hidden deep in the abyss. She watched as they disappeared beyond the endless horizon.

On the scorched earth, the surging black clouds had completely dissipated.

When the last person returned here, everything seemed to have already settled.

Sword Saint Ryan.

This almost invincible old man, in his twilight years, finally encountered his strongest enemy— that heretical dancer, who used a cruel method of self-immolation to drag him nearly a hundred kilometers away from the battlefield. The commotion of their battle rolled over three or four desolate towns. Every sword strike from the elder was blocked by the heretic transformed into a beast, using a desperate, suicidal method.

Her power far exceeded that of the man once called “the Great Demon.” Until the flames of sin were completely extinguished, the massive beast turned to dust under some abnormal backlash. The elder never managed to truly defeat her with his renowned sword skills.

That invincible, legendary Sword Saint seemed truly aged.

And the demise of the fierce enemy was merely due to the complete extinction of its source of power, turning to ashes— at that moment, the elder felt this deeply.

It was the first time in his life that he couldn’t sweep away his enemies like autumn leaves.

Perhaps because of this, when the fierce beast suddenly perished silently in a counterattack, the elder stood there stunned for a long time and didn’t search for any remnants of the heretic’s indestructible body among the ashes.

He urged the wind to return here at the fastest speed.

But it was too late.

The elder held tightly onto his dark, sinister sword, hovering above the scorched ground. After the fierce battle, the weathered, wrinkled face of the elderly man showed signs of fatigue and weariness, but the white robe fluttering in the wind remained unscathed by the flames of sin.

The powerful beast, despite its utmost effort, could not truly harm the elder with the raging flames of sin.

And the Truth Gate, this bloodthirsty, hated heretical organization, burned and devoted everything they had in this battle, which would never be remembered. With the disappearance of the dancer, it all turned to ash, becoming a tragic part of history.

But…

They did change something.

Maybe.

At this moment, no one could see or explain it clearly.

The aged elder floated in the air for a while, revealing a look of dejection on his dark face. Soon, he flew down toward the towering ice wall, reaching out to touch the azure ice. His murky but sharp eyes seemed to have guessed something.

…………

Sunlight streaked across the sky, across the vast East Continent.

The lingering light of yesterday had faded, and in the thick fog, the new sun rose, its brilliant light shining upon the prosperous Norga Sea Port. Ships set sail along the coastline, waves rippling as if tracing back through time since the Age of Divine Presence. Heroes broke their weapons and bled on the road, generation after generation fighting, struggling, and dying. Under divine rule, cities flourished, and the muddy abyss corroded the earth. Yet, prosperity would eventually come.

This year was 1188 AD, a year of pilgrimage. The Truth Gate was destroyed, and humans held grand ceremonies to thank the great gods who granted them long-lasting blessings.

Not long after, this year would come to an end.