“But do I have any other choice?”

Moen let out a carefree laugh.

“There’s a maid outside with a curvy figure, long legs, big chest, and clad in black stockings, crying and waiting for me to save her, you know.”

“The last woman who cried and begged me for something was my mom in my previous life, forcing me to go out and find a girlfriend.”

“So, come on, King of Wither.”

Moen spread his arms open.

“At a time like this, I won’t cower before some mere dark god.”

【Hah.】

The King of Wither sneered with disdain, as if mocking the ant’s foolish courage.

Yet, even just ants... if they can put on an interesting show, isn’t it worth stopping for a moment to watch?

And so—

As you wish.

The endless crimson soil began to tremble.

A massive, emaciated hand slowly emerged in front of Moen.

The hand was charred black, as though burned by flames.

And beneath that charcoal-like black surface, Moen felt a scorching heat capable of consuming the entire world!

The hand reached for him, its five fingers slowly curling into a grip.

Sizzle.

Moen felt the imprint of burning fingerprints sear into his flesh where the two made contact, branding him with a strange and eerie pattern.

Intense pain and deranged whispers filled his mind, unleashing a terrifying urge to simply obliterate the world.

Pain.

Unbearable pain.

Pain beyond endurance.

Yet this time, even the Black Book couldn’t help Moen—he could only rely on himself.

...

“What is this thing?”

Ann stared at Aluka’s steadily approaching head, despair evident in her eyes.

She had never felt so powerless. The blessings of her god had allowed her to ascend into a realm of natural strength from the moment her ability awoke.

But now, in the face of the indescribable being before her, the ability she’d always relied on had, for the first time, failed her completely.

She couldn’t move, frozen in place, watching helplessly as she... approached death.

The beatific wings unfurled, ethereal sacred chants surrounded her.

But the dark eyes that gazed back carried a trace of greed.

Aluka’s head opened its mouth again.

This time, a dreadful suction force emerged, gradually pulling something away from Ann’s body.

Including her soul.

“So, this is the end for me?”

“What a shame... There was still something I wanted to say to Young Master.”

“As expected, I’m an incompetent maid.”

She struggled futilely with everything she had, but Ann knew there was nothing left she could do. All she could do was close her eyes.

Waiting for death to descend.

“Hey, Ann.”

At that moment, a familiar voice rang out.

Like an illusion, faint and obscure—

But hearing that voice, no matter the time or places, even if there were a horrifying dark god blocking the way—Ann would unhesitatingly open her eyes and gaze toward its source.

Because it was her Young Master’s voice.

“Didn’t I tell you to stand straight with pride?”

Somehow, Moen had broken free from the invisible restraints, appearing behind the Aluka head manipulated by the dark god.

Gazing at Ann, he said sternly:

“My personal maid wouldn’t give up over something this trivial, right?”

Ann stared dumbfounded at Moen.

Suddenly, her nose stung, but this time she held back her tears.

She wouldn’t cry again.

Because Master doesn’t like seeing her this messy.

Which meant she must always be elegant and strong—no matter the circumstance!

Even in the face of death!

“That’s my girl.”

Seeing Ann find her strength again, Moen smiled.

Then, suddenly spinning around like a playful lover, he tilted his head and gazed lovingly at her.

He gazed into Aluka—or more precisely, to the terrifying essence nested within Aluka’s dark eyes.

His expression twisted into rage.

“Hey, you bastard dark god. It seems you’re planning something evil for my maid, aren’t you?”

Moen leaned close to Aluka’s ear and whispered:

“You want to play games? Why not let me join you? It just so happens I have a little something to gift you.”

He reached for the angelic wings, his skin riddled with bizarre sweltering marks—fingerprints, overwhelmingly hot to the touch.

The next moment, Moen gripped the feathers tightly and yanked.

The wings—indestructible to steel or any mortal force—were forcibly torn away!

As easily as tearing apart two sheets of paper.

“ROAR—”

Aluka bellowed in fury, her dark eyes freezing on Moen with unfathomable hostility—malice surging toward him like crashing waves.

A mere human dared to desecrate a god!

“Oh? You seem rather displeased about this.”

After tearing away the wings, Moen suddenly reached out, clasping Aluka’s face in an iron grip.

And stared directly into her eyes.

For a fleeting moment, the dark essence behind her gaze seemed startled—then sneered.

A mere human dared to meet her gaze?

Dared to gaze back at her...

Wait.

Something was wrong.

In Moen’s eyes, flames burned. And through the crimson fire, an equally terrifying existence stared down from the boundless crimson heavens above, delivering a commanding gaze.

Sight against sight.

In a hallucinatory daze, Moen heard a dismissive, mocking laugh.

【Pretentious False God of Impurity】

Aluka’s dark eyes began to light up with flickers of fire—as if a spark had been ignited amidst the deep night sky.

And that glimmer of flame was just enough to burn away all the darkness.

“ROAR—”

Aluka roared, unrecognizable syllables pouring out endlessly—as though a beast trudging toward its final desperation.

She struggled fiercely, desperate to escape Moen’s relentless stare.

Yet his hands were fixed tightly onto her skull like twin steel clamps.

“What, didn’t you claim to love so much?”

Moen shouted furiously:

“Then experience my love—this gift I’ve prepared for you—this is my love, you damn dark god!”

“Accept my love!”

Crimson flames continued to burst from Moen’s burning skin, cascading like molten lava into Aluka’s nostrils and mouth, flooding the abyss of darkness within.

The consuming fire scorched the shadowy depths, shrinking them as though forced to confront their ultimate nemesis.

Finally, the presence lurking within the darkness revealed its long-hidden fear.

And hesitated.

A dark god...was afraid?

Don’t back out now, you bastard.

You might as well face me head-on!

Moen grinned savagely.

Whoever yields first is the loser!

At that moment, Moen felt the dark eyes quiver slightly.

The essence bathing in darkness abruptly severed its gaze from the King of Wither, shifting its focus entirely onto Moen.

Aluka’s lips moved, uttering words in human tongue.

“It... just happens to... counteract me... with Wither...”

“But He can't keep... his attention forever... on a mere human.”

The god's fragmented speech stabilized, each word increasingly fluent—as though a celestial being mastering human language in mere seconds.

“And so.”

Before the fading darkness vanished completely, the presence fixated on Moen, speaking in an icy tone:

“I'll remember you.”

“Moen Campbell.”

“What?”

Moen froze.

Then, panic washed over him.

“Wait a second, God Almighty, what did you say?”

“Remember me? I’m just a lowly human, unworthy of your memory!”

“I was just kidding. Please think of me as a fart, okay? ”

“That wasn’t me—just kidding—that wasn’t even my real name! I’m actually Ariel, pretending to be Moen! You got the wrong person... seriously!”

“I give in, please let me go!!”

“Plzzzz! Don’t look at me anymore!”

Moen’s desperate cries echoed, but alas—no one... no god is listening.