Chapter 451: Not Found

The evil god has descended.

Within just a few breaths, the sky miles beyond the Holy City of Light was shrouded in thick, dark red mist.

A colossal monster hid its body within the dense fog, appearing and vanishing intermittently.

Vast clouds, like surging ink waves, churned and rolled, completely obscuring the once-clear sky.

Stabbing bolts of blood-red lightning flickered within the clouds and mist, like monstrous serpents, periodically tearing through the oppressive darkness and revealing the immense shadow concealed within.

Corrupted spiritual energy spread across the heavens, and faint, countless lamentations could barely be heard.

In an instant, heaven and earth changed.

Although the Holy City of Light stood like a torch within the mist, untouched by any tangible harm, this transformation still sent shockwaves through the hearts and bodies of the city’s faithful.

They had never so clearly felt the terror of the divine.

Before the might of the divine, only the fanatical remained unmoved; even those who believed themselves most devout would feel their faith tremble.

God and mortal.

Between them lay too much, too much.

Powerless to resist.

Ashamed of their own insignificance.

Even within the Holy City, they still felt their own tiny, fleeting existence.

Almost unconsciously, the faithful began to pray to the divine, begging for salvation.

“Our Lord, save us!”

"Save your poor lamb!"

But after praying, the faithful fell silent.

The divine did not answer.

It… remained cold.

Without divine response, the faithful sank deeper into despair.

They felt abandoned.

They felt the divine had forsaken them.

Hope?

Under this suffocating terror, not a single spark of hope remained in their hearts.

But was the truth… really this?

No!

Zzzt—

A blinding white light pierced the oppressive darkness.

Before the rising tide of despair could consume their souls, radiant hope arrived first.

As if in response to the birth of the evil god’s avatar, the angel descended as well.

He flew out from the Holy City, instantly reaching the evil god’s front, standing opposite it!

That pure white figure became the dawn that tore through darkness and despair.

Beneath the thick mist, the pure white angel stood tall, clad in a gleaming battle armor.

The armor seemed forged from countless starlights, each inch radiating holy, icy brilliance, its flowing light tracing mysterious runes.

The angel’s face was hidden in the shadow of its helmet, indiscernible, yet a resolute gaze could be felt emanating from within the darkness.

That gaze burned like twin flames, piercing through layers of gloom, locking directly onto the terrifying presence above.

In the angel’s hand gripped a holy spear, several times his own height, its shaft blazing with pure, dazzling light like a newly risen sun, dispelling the thick darkness around it.

The spear’s tip shimmered with icy cold radiance, its shaft entwined with threads of divine power, as if capable of effortlessly rending all evil in the world.

As the angel moved the holy spear, it emitted a melodious sacred tone, as if awakening the faithful’s deepest faith in the blazing sun.

“The angel…”

“It is our Lord’s angel!”

Above, the evil god’s avatar hid among the clouds, yet its shadow, revealed in flashes of lightning and thunder, loomed as vast as a mountain.

Those shadows shifted intermittently—sometimes becoming a giant serpent, sometimes sprouting countless tentacles across its body, sometimes reverting to winged serpents.

Fierce, terrifying… grotesque!

Yet, facing this mighty and terrifying evil god’s avatar, the pure white angel showed not the slightest sign of retreat.

He stood high in the sky, standing between mortals and the divine.

Amid the storm raised by the divine, only the angel remained unshaken.

He was an anchor.

Without speaking, merely by standing there, he calmed the faithful’s chaotic hearts.

“How could our Lord ever abandon us!”

“That’s right! Our Lord would never do such a thing!”

“What am I doing? I just doubted our Lord? I…”

Yes.

They had no reason to fear.

This was Solanthis, the Holy City of the Sun God!

How could it possibly be breached by some mere evil god!?

And now they realized the source of their inner turmoil… it was the evil god’s domain!

It was not their faith that faltered—it was the evil god’s interference!

From the moment the avatar of Lust and Desire was born, its [Lust and Desire] domain had silently influenced all mortal beings.

Those within the Holy City merely felt their faith shaken; those in the satellite cities outside were plunged into collective illusions, with only a handful like Fa’ao able to break free.

They gazed gratefully at the angel’s figure.

Without him, they would have remained trapped in the illusion, unknowingly weakening their devotion to the Lord even further.

Yet what they did not know was that, even as the crowd felt gratitude toward the angel…

The pure white angel, with his back turned to all, was… utterly bewildered.

“...Huh?”

What the hell!

Who am I? Where am I? What’s for dinner?

This suddenly appearing angel was, of course, Herbert.

But now there was a problem—he had not arrived by choice.

Herbert had not responded to Fa’ao’s prayer; he was not yet a god, incapable of hearing others’ supplications.

The only reason he appeared here was one thing:

The angelic battle armor he wore had moved on its own.

The angelic battle armor’s autonomous drive had carried Herbert, still uncomprehending, straight to the face of the God of Lust and Desire.

Question: Mortal, why did you choose to face the divine?

Answer: I didn’t choose this, boss.

Herbert: ???

What the hell, my armor moved!?

I’m done!

I want to go home—

Damn it, is this smart driving broken?

Why did you bring me to a place like this!?

Half an hour ago, when Herbert had just returned to his mansion and complained to Valentina and the others about being blinded by a bald woman’s blindingly bright headlights, he had patted his armor and assured them:

Herbert said this armor would protect his safety, and no matter what happened, they must not panic—everything was part of his and the Sun God Pope’s plan.

But now it seemed…

Where was the plan?

Old man, where’s the plan we agreed on!?

Didn’t we agree that when the evil god descended, I’d join everyone in attacking Him?

Why am I alone now?

Where are the others?

Where’s my reinforcement?

Damn it, answer me!

Feeling the eerie sensation of being utterly alone behind him, yet carrying the weight of countless expectations, Herbert clicked his tongue.

“Tch.”

He silently cursed inwardly, demanding an explanation from the Sun God Pope.

“I know you can hear me—answer me!”

“Where are the others!”

Herbert could not hear others’ inner complaints, but the Sun God Pope, as a Saint, nearly equivalent to a god, could sense them vaguely.

Yet whether the Sun God Pope could not hear his inner roar—or chose to ignore it—he gave no response whatsoever.

“...Never mind.”

After several failed attempts at communication, Herbert temporarily abandoned his criticism of the Sun Emperor.

Never mind, never mind.

Too lazy to argue now—I’ll settle accounts with him later.

As for now... I need to think about what to do next.

Herbert maintained his “resolute” facade, slowly lifting his gaze toward the Winged Serpent avatar of the God of Lust, the corner of his mouth beneath the helmet twitching slightly.

“Oh well...”

Upon closer observation, Herbert gained a deeper sense of the God of Lust’s avatar.

If the avatar previously manifested in the Shadowlands had been human-bodied with a serpent’s tail, the one before him now was a pure demon, devoid of any human trait whatsoever.

From a mortal’s perspective and aesthetic, the Winged Serpent was deeply unsettling—a sheer monster of terror.

But could one call its current form ugly?

Probably not.

Every detail exuded ferocity and horror, yet the whole radiated an astonishing, unnatural allure.

Its corrupted spiritual energy lured mortals deeper into desire.

Even as the angel’s presence awakened some to clarity, countless mortals remained lost in the illusion of craving.

“...”

Herbert silently gazed at the God of Lust, and the demon god returned his stare with cold indifference.

Neither spoke first.

The God of Lust, holding to its divine dignity, believed it must wait for the tiny angel to finish speaking before responding.

Herbert’s silence, however, stemmed from momentary confusion.

Not fear.

When he agreed to the Sun Emperor’s plan, he had already prepared himself to face the God of Lust directly.

Now, he felt only a faint perplexity.

“Wait, aren’t there way too many people under this carriage?”

At that moment, Herbert felt countless gazes upon him!

Some came from mortals behind him; others from higher planes.

When that pure white figure entered Faao’s eyes, he was no longer merely observed by mortals.

The gods had already turned their attention here.

Since the friction between the two churches began, the deities had noticed this place.

Perhaps because the gods had been publicly at peace too long, or perhaps because it involved the champion of the Justice Camp, nearly every god had taken notice of this “war.”

They wondered: how would this farce ultimately end?

The Forest of Nature, Sacred Grove.

In this tranquil space, the four goddesses of the Natural Pantheon—representing the four seasons—had uncommonly gathered together.

They sat around a massive round table laden with fruits and vegetables, watching a crystal ball that projected the scene of the God of Lust facing off against the angel.

This was a rare sight indeed.

Though the four goddesses were fellow deities of the Natural Pantheon and allies, their relations were far from harmonious.

Due to conflicting temperaments and divine duties, they rarely came together.

The reason they were assembled now was because of the fifth goddess present—the Moon Goddess.

A gentle, noble lady sat among them, her silver, flowing hair streaked with a single strand of unusual crimson.

Though they did not get along with one another, each had a strong bond with the Moon Goddess.

Only out of respect for her did they reluctantly sit together.

“I don’t think he can stop that madman, Lust,” said the Goddess of Spring Sprout first, shaking her head.

She appeared to be eighteen or nineteen, draped in a long gown woven from vines, radiating youthful energy; her green hair hung like willow branches to her ankles, adorned with glowing flower buds that bloomed into tiny sparks of light with every sway.

“Hah, isn’t that just obvious?”

The Goddess of Scorching Summer snorted in mockery: “Does anyone really believe this angel, armed only with courage, can accomplish anything? Surely not!”

This summer goddess appeared to be in her mid-twenties, her body robust; she wore a simple hide garment exposing her abdominal muscles, her crimson curls cascading like a lava waterfall, entwined with charred golden chains.

“Why not?”

The Goddess of Autumn Ears smiled slowly: “If he carries the divine decree of Aibosta, do you think Lust would ignore it? That cunning creature isn’t as mad as he appears.”

Among the goddesses, she appeared the oldest—a mature woman in her thirties, exuding a rich, ripened allure, every part of her seeming heavy with depth.

Her flaxen hair was braided into sheaf-like plaits, crowned with a diadem of gilded skull bones and wheat stalks.

The Goddess of Eternal Winter, however, said nothing. She merely lowered her head, gently stroking the white cat in her arms, as if listening to their words.

“...”

This goddess, who showed excessive maternal affection toward mortals, behaved quite normally toward other deities.

As for the “white cat” cradled in her arms, the Ice Goddess longed to resist—but with the other goddesses present, she swallowed her anger and chose to feign death with closed eyes.

“...”

Fine. For the sake of others, if you want to pet it, pet it. I’ll pretend I see nothing!

Finally, the Moon Goddess took up the thread, preventing the conversation from dying.

“I think this little one has his own confidence,” she said, glancing at the angel in the vision, her eyes lowering slightly.

Then, as if recalling something amusing, she shook her head and smiled, her tone laden with implication: “After all, the angels under His command have always had their own ideas. Heh.”

“Let’s just hear what he has to say next.”

“Perhaps he’ll surprise us. Heh.”

The goddesses of Spring, Summer, and Autumn all nodded in agreement.

Even the Goddess of Autumn Ears, who disagreed, held no expectation of Herbert’s personal power.

This was not an exception—it was the general view among the gods.

While mortals blindly believed angels could save them from demons, the gods looked upon the angel’s appearance with disdain.

Though the God of Lust had only manifested an Epic-level avatar, what threat could it pose unless an entire angelic battle group was deployed?

And sending only one angel? That was a gesture of goodwill—an invitation to talk.

Just as everyone expected the angel to speak...

...the pure-white angel above, after a moment of silence, finally moved.

Without a word, he raised his holy spear toward the demon god.

Click.

Without uttering a single phrase, the angel flared his wings and charged straight at the overwhelming, inviolable deity, spear in hand!

Like an old knight making his final charge against a giant windmill.

Charge!

Charge!!

Charge!!!

(End of Chapter)