After retrieving the World Stone, Roland made no effort to suppress its radiating energy.
Meaning the Cultists would pinpoint its location instantly—and might come charging in with their entire families any second.
At that moment, the barren wasteland around him began sprouting vibrant green shoots. They grew visibly fast, transforming in a blink into a lush emerald field.
Exotic herbs and blossoms swelled to ten times their normal size, brimming with dense magical energy. Each was a priceless divine herb—enough to ignite fierce competition among continental powers.
The once-lifeless wasteland had become a secluded paradise teeming with rare medicinal flora, including century-old divine herbs.
Roland tucked the World Stone away, gathering herbs while setting up magical arrays.
...
Deep within Xige Forest.
A massive basin scarred by a Forbidden Spell lay here. No magical beast dared approach within a kilometer—only a pitch-black hillock stood silent.
A group of robed figures knelt on one knee before the cave entrance.
Two silhouettes emerged from the shadows.
One was a cyan-faced, fanged creature resembling a fish-man, its body sheathed in ruby-like gleaming scales, a crimson tail swaying behind.
The other was shrouded in black robes, face veiled in dark mist, only two crimson glows visible. The voluminous robe concealed all traces of form or gender.
"Crimson Tail," the robed figure asked calmly, voice magically altered to sound neither male nor female, "why was the World Stone taken?"
"This humble one… does not know…"
Cold sweat beaded on Crimson Tail’s fish-like head. As leader of the Church of Annihilation, he felt crushing pressure. Before him stood the avatar of the god they worshipped.
They had located the World Stone—only for someone to snatch it first.
Though the avatar seemed calm, Crimson Tail’s beastly intuition screamed: *He is furious.*
"Hm?"
After two seconds of silence, the avatar commanded:
"Spread the word. Gather Cultists worldwide. Attack Oliverlam. Seize the World Stone."
"Yes!"
Crimson Tail turned to leave—
"Wait."
The avatar stepped out, gaze fixed on the horizon—Oliverlam. A faint trace of the World Stone’s energy lingered there.
Then he turned toward another direction, over a thousand kilometers away.
There—the full, moving signature of the World Stone. Undeniably present.
But why did Oliverlam emit even a hint of its energy?
As he pondered, the distant signature flickered weakly… then vanished.
"Damn it!" the avatar snarled. He should have moved immediately. Letting the World Stone slip away meant facing the god’s wrath.
In a flash, he activated a colossal array. Light flared—and all Cultists vanished.
...
Texin Wasteland.
The Cultists reappeared after traversing a thousand kilometers.
"My lord’s divine power astounds me!" Crimson Tail flattered instantly. "Transporting thousands over such distance—unthinkable!"
Mastering spatial magic was grueling. Even continent-top mages could barely teleport others a few kilometers. Yet the avatar moved thousands across continents.
"This is the gospel bestowed by our god," the avatar declared proudly. "When you rise to my rank, Lord Malevolent God will grant you this blessing. Slaying a Grand Sage will be effortless."
The light faded—but instead of wasteland, a breathtaking sea of radiant flowers stretched before them.
"My lord… this…" Crimson Tail stammered, utterly bewildered.
So were all the Cultists—even the avatar.
This was supposed to be barren land!
"The World Stone’s effect!" the avatar snapped back, voice sharp. "Search everywhere! Dig to the bedrock if needed—find it!"
"No need. You won’t find me."
A cold voice echoed from above.
"Face your judgment."
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Massive arrays erupted across sky and earth—vast, overwhelming, sealing the entire area.
"Th-th-this…!" The avatar collapsed, teeth chattering as he stared upward.
Gibude Elemental Array. Sacride Light Array. Gerard’s Absolute Ice Array. Abcolus Demon-Sealing Array…
Dozens of legendary forbidden arrays—each terrifyingly potent. And they were only a fraction.
Wind and clouds churned as the arrays devoured mana from kilometers around. The floral sea withered instantly; even divine herbs were drained dry.
He tried to teleport—despair flooding him. Space was sealed. No escape.
BUZZ… BUZZ… BUZZ…
All 1,973 arrays Roland prepared reached full charge.
Then—annihilation.
A miniature sun exploded. Blinding light swallowed everything. Space shuddered. A colossal mushroom cloud tore the heavens. The wasteland seemed ready to melt.
...
Smoke curled from churned earth. A burnt stench hung thick.
The miles-wide floral paradise was now a scorched basin.
Every Cultist turned to ash. Crimson Tail—stronger than a Grand Sage—had no resistance. The Church of Annihilation was history.
After a long silence, space split. A blood-soaked figure tumbled out, energy utterly spent.
In the final second before the blast, the avatar had torn open a rift. Only the god’s gospel saved him from total erasure.
Gasping, body screaming in pain, dehydrated and broken—he was dying.
"Huh? One still alive? Are all you Cultists cockroaches? Is the Malevolent God just a giant roach?"
Roland’s voice cut through the haze. The avatar strained to turn his head.
*Arcane Order president? Racial Alliance councilor? One of the continent’s legends?*
As his head turned, life fled.
In his last flicker of consciousness: a receding figure adjusting a hat adorned with an egret feather—strikingly conspicuous.
*A… Bard…?*
He died never understanding how a mere Bard held such power.
The moment his breath ceased, a light-based array flared beneath him—purifying corpse and soul into drifting motes of light.
...
Thirty minutes later, a gray-haired woman—ordinary-looking, cultivation undetectable—appeared.
A flicker of irritation crossed her stoic face. Then she vanished.
Two hours later, Roland eliminated the Church of Annihilation’s last member within the Moshando Empire. A century-long shadow was gone.
Three hours later, Silva received the news, a mana storage device, and a short letter.
*My dearest Silva,*
*Your husband is on an impromptu journey. I apologize for eloping—it was unavoidable. Please don’t be angry.*
*I love you, deeply and truly. I ache to return and marry you now, but duty calls. Wait for me. After this ends, our wedding will happen.*
*I’ll send mana storage devices regularly—enough for three or four replenishments. I’m also searching for a way to break the mana contract.*
*First, show this to Onid. The rest is for him.*
*Reluctantly… Father-in-law. Protect little Xi and that scheming maid. The Malevolent God doesn’t know yet, but I do—their secrets must never fall into his hands. If needed, call that unreliable senior.*
*Now, give the letter back to Silva.*
*I’ll keep the ring. I’ll keep missing you. Please don’t forget me… or look elsewhere. That would shatter me.*
*As for a harem? After you? Never. Not in this life.*
*Believe me.*
*Wife, that’s all for now. I’ll write often.*
*Yours lovingly, Roland.*
Silva smiled sweetly, folded the letter into her Spatial Bracelet, and turned to Onid and Yenoa.
"Father… what did Roland mean? What secrets do little Ya and I carry?"
Onid sighed softly, raised a hand—and a barrier enveloped the three.
"It is… a covenant forged thousands of years ago between two youths and the Goddess of Creation."
*To be continued*
