Chapter 66

“Divine Fragment…?” The old, clumsy Lilith had died; what stood now was a less-clumsy Little White Dragon, calm as moonlight on snow. Suspicion rose first, cold as mist, then action followed. She pressed her small foot harder on the Reaper Fragment, forcing the pinned figure to spill more truth. “You don’t sound reliable. How would I be a Divine Fragment?”

“Strictly speaking, you aren’t. The White Holy Maiden is.” Eternal Life lay under Lilith’s heel like a moth pinned to velvet. Her voice came soft, cautious as dusk rain. “The Divine Fragment that governs Taint is unique, two-in-one—destruction and creation. The destructive half commands erosion and replacement, like rust eating iron and night replacing day. The creative half governs growth and purification, like spring vines climbing ruins and rain washing soot. That’s why humans send girls like you against the Taint. The continent has many races, but here it’s an internal affair of the Divine Fragment. Which race doesn’t matter much.”

A faint worry stirred, then her brow knit like a folded fan. “Then why didn’t I feel any special tie to a god back then?” Before defeating the Demon King, the Little White Dragon’s body was as plain as a candle in daylight. Because she was young and a girl, she was even frailer than the Lilith of that world, a reed in wind—nothing of a Divine Fragment at all. If not for occasionally seeing Icarus, she would’ve seen zero trace of the divine, not even a silhouette on water.

“Because the Divine Fragment isn’t the person who holds the post. It’s the vocation itself.” Eternal Life’s reply came muffled, like a drum under cloth. “Most Divine Fragments never take human shape. Few have a clear avatar. Most are a concept, a sentence, even a single word—like wind, like oath. We three sisters of the Reaper Fragment are unusual; we happened to be human-shaped.”

“White Holy Maiden and Demon King are the two roles of the Taint’s Divine Fragment.” Her tone turned dry as old parchment, then edged with a thorn. “Usually, even fragments from the same god are independent of each other—like me and my disappointing sister… cough, ‘Untimely Death.’”

Lilith’s temper flared first, hot as coal, then her heel came down. Eternal Life bit back the insult and changed wording, clean as a blade rinsed in rain.

“We all come from the Grim Reaper. We each hold portions of the Reaper’s authority. But we’re independent. Eternal Life won’t interfere with Untimely Death, just as Untimely Death won’t interfere with Eternal Life. We’re contradictions, iron and magnet, never coexisting.”

“Yet the Demon King and the White Holy Maiden are different. They rely on each other, contend with each other, and cannot be severed.” Her words spread like ink in water. “The White Holy Maiden is born to purify the Taint under the Demon King’s rule. That Taint slowly coexists with her, then after the maiden dies or defeats the Demon King, it resumes its work of destruction, a winter returning after fall.”

“So I’m actually both the Demon King and the White Holy Maiden right now?” The Little White Dragon pointed at herself, calm as a lake, though a ripple moved beneath. After she beat the Demon King, all Taint in the world flowed into her body, a river into a basin. Lilith now was a Demon King, fair and square.

“Yes. Right now you hold both roles. Two Divine Fragments have converged in you.” Her gaze lifted like dawn through smoke. “They’re like two colors poured into one vessel, blending, then yielding a new hue.”

“Not the Demon King’s dark crimson, not the White Holy Maiden’s pure white, but yours—the color of the true Divine Fragment, only Lilith’s—cerulean.”

“Cerulean?” Lilith’s big blue eyes blinked, twin sapphires misted with water. Even in the unlit gloom, they shone like the brightest stars, a Star Canvas strewn in air.

“Yes. Cerulean, a color only yours.” Eternal Life’s certainty rang like a bell under ice. “You’re the Divine Fragment that represents the Taint. To other fragments, you appear in your own color.”

“Do I have a name then? Something like Eternal Life or Untimely Death—names that hold authority.” Curiosity sprouted first, then she tapped her chest, eyes bright as dew.

“No. As a newborn fragment, no god wise enough has named you yet. Maybe you can choose for yourself.” Eternal Life shook her head, movement small as a leaf. Lilith slid her foot from Eternal Life’s chest to her stomach, a playful cruelty like a cat’s paw; she let the Reaper Fragment sit halfway up to meet her eyes.

“Is that so? Then I should think it through.” The thought passed light as a breeze; she’d rather have Nidhogg name her. Lilith wasn’t exactly scholarly—better let him weave the word like a craftsman carving jade.

“You… aren’t surprised?” Eternal Life stared, startled as a sparrow. She had expected thunder, wide eyes, a shattered calm. Instead, Lilith accepted it like rain tapping a window, then pondered coolly about giving herself a flashy nickname.

“Why should I be?” Her brow lifted, a paper fan flicked open. She was a little surprised, true, like tasting a bit of salt in tea. But she wasn’t the silly girl who panicked at every rumor. Divine Fragment level? Please. If someone told her there was no Fanyu at all, that she’d always been a native of this land, she could accept it—like changing masks mid-play and walking on.

“It’s not that big a deal. If I’ve got time to stew on this, I’d rather think about how to deal with you.” She withdrew her foot, calm first, then a playful edge. The Little White Dragon toyed with her pink longsword. Ghost-blue flame climbed her pale hand like frost-fire, then ran up the blade of the Ancient Ark. The pink-white steel took on a ghostly azure, like a Star Canvas scattered with cold lights.

“For example… I could test my new weapon on you.” She swung the blade, a crescent of color. After absorbing so much Moonswallow Mist, the Ancient Ark had changed, subtle as a new pulse. The Little White Dragon chose the Reaper Fragment before her as the first trial stone.

“Damn.” Eternal Life cursed low, a coal popping in the brazier. A Reaper Fragment wouldn’t just let Lilith step on her for half a day; she had no bizarre kink for being stomped by a loli “mom.” While answering, she’d been quietly gathering power, like a tide swelling under moon. Now was the moment to let it break.