Are we dying? Under that dreadful force, Augustine couldn’t imagine any miracle that might save them. Time had buckled; the Ouyang before them was an Ouyang from long ago.

He hadn’t thought the ancient Ouyang could be this terrifying. As “Ouyang” slowly raised his hand, space in the Divine Realm twisted like heated glass. That power scraped the realm’s limits like a blade on bone.

“Father…”

Power ballooned like a storm tide. Everyone choked in silence except Fia, whose voice broke the surface like a gasp for air.

Maybe that one word struck something. The Reaper’s scythe, steeped in killing chill, stopped midarc. The aura vanished without a ripple. They collapsed, gulping air like fish thrown back into a river.

“Father?”

The voice came cold and distant as winter rain. “Ouyang” didn’t lower the scythe. He held that dangerous crescent poised, waiting. If Fia’s answer displeased him, it would fall.

“Yes! My name is Clafias. You adopted me on the Other Shore, in the Eighth Epoch!” Fia stared at Ouyang, dazed. He only frowned, blank as stone. He hadn’t met little Fia yet; their meeting lay many years ahead.

Clank…

Chains coiled around the scythe rattled like iron snakes. Ouyang’s voice stayed pitiless. “That answer… doesn’t satisfy me.”

“Father, I’m from the future.” Fia pulled a bracelet from nowhere. “You took me to the Starry Citadel to buy it. You gave it to me for my tenth birthday.”

“Starry Citadel?!”

The Other Shore hadn’t been founded in that distant age, but the Starry Citadel—its oldest city—had stood since long before. Hearing the name, Ouyang’s killing edge dulled a fraction.

But it wasn’t enough.

“From the future… then who founded the Starry Citadel?”

If Fia hit the mark, Ouyang might believe most of it. Even if not, their lives would be spared for now. If she missed, he would kill them.

Fia bit her soft pink lip. She didn’t know who founded it at all.

“Father, you never told me. That future was too far away…”

Clearly, Ouyang didn’t like that answer. Killing intent rose again like a cold tide. They’d just clawed back a life, only to slide toward the cliff’s edge once more.

No matter how they tried to explain, nothing bridged his suspicion. This age was too ancient; they knew nothing of it.

Just then, a distant pressure rolled in like thunder over mountains.

“Lord of a pantheon?”

Ouyang’s brows knit. He dispelled the scythe with a thought and didn’t spare Augustine’s group another glance.

In the end, they lived. He’d felt a pantheon lord’s aura and left them behind like dust on his sleeve. Alive, yet bitter—being ignored stung more than a slap.

Wiping cold sweat, they finally noticed Fia’s full name.

“Clafias… why does that sound so familiar?” Pulis rubbed his chin. Besha frowned as well; she’d heard it somewhere.

Caro lowered her head, thinking. “Same here. I’ve heard it too.”

Their eyes gathered on Fia, the way moths gather to a lantern, questions fluttering.

Irina clapped, bright as a spark. “I remember! I heard it ages ago—Goddess of Light, Clafias!”

At her words, locked-away memories opened like old chests.

“Yes—the Goddess of Light!”

Pulis had been a prince of the Land of Light, seat of the Light Church. A prince couldn’t help but know the name. Fia lifted her gaze to the sky, unbothered by their doubt, like a cloud drifting above noise.

“Miss Clafias, may I ask… are you the Goddess of Light?” Caro asked carefully. Fia nodded.

The crowd burst like a shaken hive.

“That’s… a lot. They say the pantheon led by the Goddess of Light clashes with the Demon Kings. And now the Goddess of Light is daughter to the First Demon King… that’s a knot.”

Morris admitted his curiosity about the Source World ran hot. He hadn’t expected a background like Fia’s.

“Hmph, I’m not spying in the Divine Realm for that idiot father. He forgot me, so I rebelled.” Fia’s scoff was sharp as a silver bell. The legend turned tsundere knocked everyone’s world askew.

“Really?” Lain doubted, brows raised.

“Trash. Shut up.”

White light flicked from her slender finger, slipped into Lain’s mouth, and vanished. Lain’s jaw locked. He couldn’t open it at all.

“Anyone else?”

Fia’s gaze swept like a blade. Eyes dropped. No one dared meet hers.

Besha hunched, whispering, “What the Lady Goddess says, goes. She doesn’t worry about the father who forgot her!”

“Exactly.”

Arms folded, Fia let the mystique fall away like a veil. With this prickly goddess, no one risked a word, afraid of sharing Lain’s fate.

With her identity out, Fia stopped hiding. She told them about the Endless Plateau.

The “World of Heretic Gods” where it stood—she’d noticed it long ago. She’d investigated and found the Plateau was a vast vortex of time and space, a whirlpool in the sky. A powerful deity seemed to have stashed treasure in a bygone era. Through the Plateau, you could step back and claim it.

That was her best guess after countless trails followed. Not long ago—right when Augustine’s group reached the Plateau—the vortex stirred. It was the prime window to slip into the past and hunt that treasure. But Augustine’s White Elf blood, laced with the power of time, hurled them to the wrong time and the wrong place.

Rex had noticed the Plateau years earlier as well. When the Source World entered the Demon King era, he’d lingered in that World of Heretic Gods.

Piece by piece, they pulled a thread through the maze. Jiangxue’s arrival in the Source World tied back to a space gate Rex opened.

Sensing the vortex would shift, Rex opened a gate to the City of Radiance. He meant to take Besha treasure hunting. By chance, he paved a road for Jiangxue to step into the Source World.

If Jiangxue hadn’t come, Ouyang wouldn’t have looked that way. Augustine’s group wouldn’t have reached the Endless Plateau. Without Augustine’s blood, Fia wouldn’t have fallen into the wrong era.

“So the culprit’s that guy, huh?” Fia smiled at Rex, eyes narrowed. The root lay in Rex returning to the Source World to fetch Besha. “Uncle Rex, care to explain?”

Rex calmly produced a drawing board and painted the lake before them, elegant as a gentleman at tea.

Explain? What was there to explain? If this pot needed a back, he had the back.

“Hmph.”

Since her identity was out, Fia grew more childlike by the minute. The Goddess of Light’s majesty shed like petals.

After a long rest, Rex packed up the board. “Clafias, let’s move. That Divine Kingdom doesn’t look very strong. We should be able to borrow a transit gate.”

Once rested, they set off again.

“Inside a Divine Kingdom’s borders, it’s usually safe. Terrifying monsters rarely show.” After the three-headed bird, the collapse of a Divine Kingdom, and the Ouyang ordeal, their nerves fluttered like torn flags. Hearing Rex, they cheered. Pulis hefted the banner; through every hazard, he’d guarded it like a coal in rain.

Now, it was time to show the colors.

Just as Rex said, once they entered the Divine Kingdom’s lands, no monsters attacked travelers. The passersby weren’t strong either. Spotting masters like Rex and Fia, they watched with envy, eyes bright as lanterns. Pulis carried the banner and basked in the looks. Pride rose in him like a clean dawn.

“I thought the Divine Realm was a place where gods walked everywhere…” Augustine weighed the passersby and found no god-tier beings. Disappointment sifted through him like fine ash.

Rex chuckled. “It’s not gods on every street. Before the Divine Continent shattered, it was vast beyond any map. Most so-called gods cluster at a kingdom’s heart. In the central regions, you really can see gods everywhere.”