"Truly worthy of being the greatest genius in the history of the Church."
With heartfelt admiration, Mela quickly withdrew her gaze.
"However, it seems like I must speed up my own progress as well. Even the Church is becoming anxious, which means the prophesied day will arrive sooner than we had imagined."
Mela closed her thoughts and lifted her head to stare into the void.
Through the translucent membrane-like barrier of the world, she peered beyond it, and her small face gradually grew solemn.
"Is it... about to end?"
…
…
Beyond the world.
A scene like the apocalypse itself, so majestic and overwhelming that even a mere glimpse by mortals could plunge them into madness, enshrouded everything within sight.
An endless crimson sea clashed with an endless black tide, both colliding with a force that seemed as though it would obliterate everything. Even the aftershocks caused the void itself to ripple and distort.
This was not some trivial scuffle constrained within the world barrier, appearing only as projections with shackled powers.
This was a true godly war—where complete divine forms and supreme divine thrones wielded unrestrained authority and unleashed apocalyptic powers in a boundary-free domain.
**dark god · King of Wither.**
**VS.**
**dark god · Moon of Silence!**
From an incomprehensible height, a massive and terrifying eye ascended like a blazing sun, radiating a dreadful aura of destruction. Countless withered hands surrounded this enormous eye, moving rhythmically to form a majestic corona.
Crimson flames spilled forth, and a vision of boundless crimson earth, imbued with annihilative might, came crashing down!
The moonlight was cold.
Silent and deep.
On the perfect and flawless lunar disk, countless streaks of crimson surged, casting an eerie, blood-like hue over the entire blue moon.
The black tide roared, rising like colossal waves of an ocean to confront the all-consuming crimson earth without hesitation!
**Boom—**
Authorities clashed.
The void quaked.
There was no sound, as the void itself was silent by nature. Yet, at that moment, many powerful beings within the world barrier simultaneously lifted their heads.
Though most have no ability to truly witness this event with their eyes, anyone who had attained a crowned state could distinctly sense the fierce collision that defied mortal comprehension.
And merely sensing it caused many self-proclaimed extraordinary beings to suffer trauma to their souls. They felt their vitality churn uncontrollably and hurriedly withdrew their senses, not daring to look further.
Thus, near the world's barrier, there remained only a crow, a dove, a rat, an old man, and a white-haired lolicon.
"It’s over," Hezekiah sighed softly.
His aged eyes, within which countless holy light brewed, shielded him from the dazzling brightness and scorching heat, allowing him to see the situation clearly.
At first, the black tide and crimson earth were evenly matched.
But Moon of Silence's strength clearly waned as time passed. Under King of Wither's full-force onslaught, it lasted only a few breaths before the azure lunar glow and boundless black tide rapidly disintegrated.
This revealed, on the surface of the blue moon, a gaping, jagged wound resembling a vast rift.
"So that’s it. King of Wither pursued Moon of Silence so fiercely because it had discovered the latter’s weakness?"
Hezekiah immediately put the pieces together and spoke with a hint of lament.
"Yet, to arrive at this point, Moon of Silence, in all its machinations to prevent King of Wither's attack, ultimately expended too much of its strength. Even without that weakness, it likely wouldn’t have been a match for King of Wither.
"In the end, the force that crushed this god... turned out to be fear?"
"A dark god falling to fear—what a textbook example of irony."
"And now... Ulrons."
"I'm here."
"Begin."
"Understood."
…
High above the void, King of Wither seemed surprised by how easily the blue moon was subdued. There was even a trace of human-like ecstasy flickering within its ferocious eye.
The majestic corona whipped into a frenzy, with countless withered hands piercing directly through the void, carrying incinerating crimson flames as they plunged viciously into the dreadful wound.
The blue moon howled in fury, yet was helpless.
Moon of Silence was of equal rank and divine stature to King of Wither, but such a life-or-death struggle between evenly matched forces was like a dam trying to stop a great river—only one small breach was needed for total collapse.
Let alone the fact that for Moon of Silence, its accumulated outflow of power was far too substantial to be described as a "small breach."
Multiple incarnations, countless blood sacrifices, and all tributes offered by its zealous worshippers had been drained to no avail in prior schemes, leaving it with nothing to show—aside from some critical losses.
Given these circumstances, how could it possibly contend against King of Wither, who had hoarded its strength for this very confrontation, deliberately ignoring even the prayers of its faithful?
As stated earlier, the outcome of this divine war had been predestined long before the clash ever occurred.
Thus, as the infinite shadows of crimson earth descended, banishing all lunar azure light, the world-ending flames surged like molten lava. They poured through the gaping wound of the lunar disk, recklessly devouring and consuming everything in their path.
**Boom—**
Moon of Silence visibly trembled.
And amid a cry that remained soundless yet evoked sorrow across the entire realm, the once-pristine blue moon cracked apart like a shattered mirror, spreading its despair-filled fissures outward.
The divine form fractured.
And from the countless moonstone shards, King of Wither finally saw the object it had been tirelessly pursuing at the core.
It was something, unfathomable in shape and incomprehensible in meaning—an endlessly radiant entity so sublime and exquisite that no words in existence could ever capture even a fraction of its splendor.
—**The Core of Authority.**
…
Just as King of Wither was intently focused on the Core of Authority, a humble corner of the void quietly birthed a golden doorway.
Hezekiah emerged from the doorway, his gaze fixed upon the scene above, a fervent intensity flashing through his eyes.
In such a moment, how could King of Wither hope to hog all the glory alone?
In the distance, a crow soared, dropping a few feathers.
A white dove flapped its wings, capturing a sliver of cold moonlight.
A mangy rat prowled stealthily along the periphery.
And Hezekiah gripped his staff tightly, giving it a swift flick.
Golden light descended, as if countless doors overlapped in an instant. And within the infinitely distant ruptured fragments of the divine form, a portion was suddenly transported directly to him.
The divine shard carried a chilling aura of death that was palpably unsettling. Such was its corruptive power that even a crowned being could instantly succumb and become a puppet of the moon.
And yet, the moon, by now, was already on the brink of death.
With a sweep of his sleeve, Hezekiah invoked sacred brilliance to seal away the deathly aura. Five fingers clenched, and the fragment began to heed his call, flying into his possession.
Just then, he hesitated—as if time itself stuttered, briefly rewound, and then reversed. The divine shard that had been heading his way suddenly, inexplicably, retreated back.
Hezekiah froze momentarily, before his realization dawned with a rage-filled roar.
"MelaDormir!"
"Oh my, oh my, why so loud? Haven’t you ever heard of respecting your elders?"
Unbeknownst to him, Mela had appeared not far off, her figure faintly backlit by a phantom of a giant clock. She extended one small hand, and the divine shard obediently shrank, landing into her palm.
"When dealing with elders, you need to show some courtesy, don’t you agree, young one?" Mela blinked innocently, her expression radiating mischievous charm.
