"Emil... who is that?"

In the pitch-black underground space, only the faint glimmer from the Light Spell Moen had conjured cast a thread of light. There was no wind; the air’s lack of circulation even made it feel somewhat stifling.

But at this moment, Moen inexplicably felt a chill rise from the soles of his feet, run up along his spine and nape straight to his forehead, hissing atop his head like a venomous snake.

"What do you... mean?"

Moen stared fixedly at the rabbit and asked, enunciating each word:

"Isn't Emil the revered name of the Goddess of Life?"

"I only know that we worship the Goddess."

The rabbit shook her head:

"But we truly don't know of the Goddess having the revered name Emil."

"You don't know?"

Moen couldn't help but frown.

How could they not know?

Generally speaking, gods indeed wouldn't have a revered name that sounds so “human” as Emil.

But as the deity with the most followers across the continent, it is said that before the Church was founded, the Goddess of Life descended to the mortal realm as the incarnation “Emil,” walked the world in the guise of a maiden and spread the gospel, which led to the birth and rise of the Church as it is today.

Therefore, the name Emil, to the faithful of the world—and even to nonbelievers—is a name absolutely bound to that Goddess of Life.

Just as when people hear the word “sun” they instinctively look up at the blazing orb, the two are already an inseparable whole.

Emil is the Goddess of Life.

But now, the Goddess of Life the rabbit speaks of... doesn't seem to be Emil?

"Could it be that... the timing is off?"

The Lost Land is a banished nation; if they were forced into isolation from the world before the Goddess descended to the mortal realm under the name Emil and spread the gospel, it would be normal not to know this revered name...

No, that's not right.

That situation is absolutely impossible.

Because Freya said before that the one who banished this nation... was the first saintess of the Life Church!

Before Canterwell was banished, the Goddess had already descended to the mortal realm as Emil; therefore, by then, the name Emil had already spread!

As the anchor to which faith is offered, as long as one is a believer in the Goddess, it would be impossible not to know this august name!

Yet the rabbit says she doesn't know.

Moreover, she used “we” rather than “I.”

"Come to think of it, why the first saintess would banish this nation is itself a mystery. I previously thought the people of this country abused the Goddess's power and provoked the Church's opposition, but now it seems that's not the case."

The mess of tangled threads resurfaced again in Moen's mind, as if mauled by several mischievous kittens—dense balls of yarn with no loose end to find.

No—perhaps earlier Moen had faintly sensed where the loose end lay, but because that idea was too fantastical, too inconceivable, every time he was about to pull it out, Moen chose to give up.

And now that loose end was right before his eyes, brought to the surface by the rabbit's airy question, like a lurking viper staring at him, its hissing ever clearer, cold to the bone.

"We always thought the people of this The Lost Land were believers of the Goddess, and that they were invaded by a dark god, and we were here to save them.

But that seems to be just our unilateral assumption, a façade pieced together from fragments. The statue of the goddess in this world has, from beginning to end, no face..."

They... the natives of this country... perhaps do not worship the Goddess, or rather... not the Goddess of Life.

But if what they worship is not the Goddess Emil, then what, after all, is the truth of what happened here?

"Similar... yet opposite."

For no reason, Moen suddenly remembered this sentence he had seen in the mirror, spoken by Freya.

He murmured under his breath, as if bewitched:

"Opposite, opposite, opposite... Right, everything falls into place if you just look at it in reverse."

"For example... the rot."

On the first night upon entering this nation, the most unforgettable, soul-chilling thing—aside from those twisted flesh monstrosities—was the rot that spread across the whole world, as if it meant to devour every living thing.

Anyone who saw that horrific scene would instinctively link it to the source of the world's chaos and disorder.

But thinking carefully now, that rot... is just rot.

And what we call rot... is also part of life, representing life's final withering and end.

That is far more normal than the bizarre flesh everywhere, the plants that grow beef and mutton, the rivers that flow with milk.

"So the one invading this nation is in fact the true Emil, and rot is part of that Goddess of Life's domain."

"That bright moon... no wonder it felt familiar. It should come from the remains of the Moon of Silence. That old loli said the remains of the Moon of Silence were divvied up by all sides, and there was no way the Church didn't get a piece of the action."

"In that journal, the 'dark god' invasion was in the past few decades, while 'that round thing' only appeared in the final entry. Judging by the dates, everything lines up."

"What the Church has been busy with these years was not cracking the so-called wall, but infiltrating the power of the Goddess into this The Lost Land. Yet the process was very slow, giving the natives here—or some thing here—time to respond."

Those twisted monsters flashed across Moen's eyes. At first the journal thought those monsters came from contamination by an Outer God, but in fact they did not; they only appeared alongside the 'Outer God's' contamination.

That looked more like some kind of defense mechanism of this nation.

"Until the Church obtained a medium—the remains of the Moon of Silence. Through the remains of the Moon of Silence, the Goddess's power seeped in at a breakneck pace."

"But perhaps because of the previous divine war, or for some other reason, the situation underwent some anticipated changes, so the Church could no longer wait—hence this extremely risky Sanctification Trial."

Moen's mind raced; once his thinking opened up and he found that hidden loose end, everything seemed so self-evident.

Of course, most of it was his conjecture; there was no substantive evidence.

Yet Moen still felt this conjecture was not far from the truth.

"Then, thinking this way, what exactly the 'goddess' truly worshiped by the natives here is would likewise become self-evident, wouldn't it?"

A being who could be banished by the first Goddess.

A being that could make the Church so wary.

A being that could prompt the Goddess Emil to personally send down power to invade.

That certainly cannot be because this nation truly hides countless golden treasures, nor can it possibly be that it is so wonderful here that even the Goddess Emil would come to admire and learn.

There is only one possibility.

"Such a simple thing, and I'm only thinking of it now. Just like back then with Arag, from the very start I was deceived by a certain mental set..."

Moen let out a self-mocking chuckle.

To think that a nation without want of food, content and happy, is the Goddess's blessing.

To think that the nauseating rot, the world's collapse, comes from the dark god's invasion.

But the truth is precisely the opposite.

"It is the Goddess Emil who is invading here, and the one who has all along bestowed power on this place, turning it into a Golden Land without hunger... unsurprisingly, would be a dark god."

Moen lifted his head, first letting his gaze sweep over the rabbit's sooty little face before turning, as if to pierce the thick layers of earth and encompass the whole nation within his sight.

It was only at this moment that he understood what those high walls represented.

"So this place, in truth, is no Golden Land at all."

In his memory, those fruits were so plump, that milk looked so sweet; the people here could grow freely, free of care.

But isn't that only natural?

If you want cattle and sheep to grow fat and sleek, of course you give them the finest feed.

"This is... a dark god's pasture."

...

...

"It's here."

In the Highest Sanctum, the Pontiff, who seemed to have been resting, lifted his eyes, braced for battle, and looked toward the end of the firmament.

The sun, moon, and stars that ran along their tracks suddenly came to an abrupt halt, as if they had encountered some malfunction, and together began to tremble faintly.

And at the end of the sky, an ink-black hue spread silently, like a wash of ink.

Flowers, blossoming.

One after another, flowers of every hue, enchanting to the extreme, took root and grew in the void, swaying in the wind.

Then came plump fruits, luxuriant trees, inexhaustible foodstuffs; in an instant, half the firmament was filled with teeming vitality. Yet beneath the skins of these plants there faintly pulsed vein-like patterns, like the blood vessels of living people.

White jade-like feet stepped out of the black; behind them came a long dress as deep as night, studded with countless dim stars. Up from the hem could be seen a matronly, bewitching figure, bosom full, brimming with maternity.

Then... a face void and without features.

In her arms the young woman cradled a swaddling bundle; within the swaddling it was pitch black, yet at this moment two chubby little hands reached out, clutching a small shard of the moon and gnawing at it happily.

But that was only a small piece—or rather, the last piece.

Thus, when that last piece vanished into the swaddling as well, a shrill wail resounded, almost shredding one's soul, yet conveying only a single message anyone could understand.

—Hungry.

The young woman inclined her head slightly, as if gazing benevolently at the baby in the swaddling, yet behind her a vast shadow kept writhing, as if to cover the entire heavens.

Dark God - Mother of Abundance.

"Can't steal it so you plan to snatch it by force? Heh. Want to take back what's yours? No—that isn't yours, and what you want is much more, isn't it."

The Pontiff showed a cold smile:

"Unfortunately, old things like me who have lived a long time tend to be very stingy, so... no!"

With a sweep of his wide sleeve, a vast, holy radiance blossomed behind the Pontiff.

Amid a solemn roar, the Gate of the Sacred Domain opened wide!

Beyond the gate, imposing knights stood in battle array, iron whales blared and had already risen into the sky, and the white-robed elders each looked so aged they seemed freshly dug from their graves—yet each one of them could make the world tremble!

Ahead of everyone stood the current Saintess clad in a white armored dress, and at her side... an utterly bewildered, shivering Pink Bear.

Paying no heed to the disgrace beside her, the saintess cradled a holy scroll in her hands and read aloud.

"This is an oracle from the Goddess. She says... Drive out all that is unclean!"

"For the Goddess!"

"Long live the Goddess!"

The fanatical shouts drowned out the wails of infants. The Pope, scepter in hand, amid the light and fire sweeping the world, murmured the latter half of the sentence:

"For... humanity."