Chapter 607

Powerful.

Incomparably powerful.

Even the projection of the parent summoned by Abby was helpless at this moment.

Any attack, in front of this heavenly wall that severed dimensions, was as powerless as scooping the moon from a well.

"This... is this Avalon? Haruno is just an ordinary person."

Shizuka Hiratsuka's voice was trembling.

Even if she had been prepared, she couldn't imagine that Haruno, a mere mortal, could activate Avalon to the point where it was already like an eternal, unbreachable heavenly wall.

She even felt that perhaps even Excalibur at maximum output couldn't touch it.

"This... is this absolute defense? A supreme Noble Phantasm?"

Even the two brothers from the Pure Land of the other world were stuttering.

Even without mentioning that they are gods.

Just that size was enough to cover the sky and the sun; Tailed Beasts could play basketball on the other party's fingertip, damn it.

Nothing could be more intuitive than this.

And there was a whole group of them, but as a result...

It was meaningless; they hadn't even touched a fraction of that heavenly wall's limit.

Even a certain mastermind, Madara, broke his composure, his scalp tingling as he looked at the heavenly wall that couldn't even be touched; he was stunned.

Doesn't this mean they're invincible?

Even an ordinary person holding Avalon stands in an invincible position?

341. Heavens Moved: It is the unreachable ideal itself.

The Utopia isolated from the world—Avalon.

Since the Fifth War sky-curtain, it has been praised by many Servants, repeatedly emphasized, and ranked at the very pinnacle of Noble Phantasms.

The strongest defense known in this world!

But until this moment...

Countless people looked up at the supremely luxurious object on the sky-curtain, the dazzling radiance condensed from what seemed like infinite beauty reflected by the blue enamel on the golden base.

They finally understood.

No wonder even the radiance of the strongest Noble Phantasm of the oldest and strongest Hero King, Enuma Elish, couldn't touch it; no wonder it could ignore all physical interference, all interference from parallel worlds...

"Because it symbolizes..."

Countless people groaned, almost trembling: "The ideal that people can never reach, the ideal that can never be arrived at."

Humans are intellectual.

Humans are rational.

Humans are emotional, so they harbor desires that can never be satisfied, pursuing, obsessing over, and longing for things they cannot possess.

Children long for perhaps a pretty dress, a fun toy, or the peace of their parents.

Adults long for ideals; perhaps it's money, perhaps it's love, or perhaps they hope to gain applause and flowers, realizing the ambitions in their hearts.

The more they cannot possess, the more obsessed they become; once they have what's in front of them, they crave more.

This kind of craving has no good or evil, no right or wrong.

And that kind of longing that is unreachable, even like a fantasy, people call it—Ideal!

Ideals, after all, are things that one cannot touch oneself.

This distance transcends time and space, transcends causality, and transcends all tangible things in the world.

And that golden light in front of them, the light like a heavenly wall, is perhaps the embodiment of this distance.

Paris.

A middle-aged man with a scruffy beard savored the bitterness in his mouth, looking wistfully at the gorgeous light, as if seeing his own past.

Like a moth, he knew he couldn't reach it, yet he resolutely threw himself onto the burning path called ideal.

Until he exhausted everything, until he had nothing left.

But ideals, ah.

My ideal of becoming famous, of letting everyone on this planet know my name, know the ideal of me, the great painter Picasso the Eleventh.

I will never give up.

…….

New York.

A heavily made-up Latina prostitute finished her day's work, lit a cigarette, and scoffed.

"Hmph~ Ideals?"

In her eyes was deep emotion and nostalgia.

Once, every year, even every day, how many people, how many men, women, and children, harboring that "American Dream" that echoed repeatedly in their dreams, arduously trekked across the long US-Mexico border, carrying their longing for a glamorous ideal, and exhausted everything to come here.

Came to the capital of the strongest and most prosperous country on this planet... and then welcomed the sound of glass shattering.

That was the sound of something called an ideal breaking.

No.

Perhaps the so-called ideal never existed from the beginning.

The distance from them was not that 4,500 kilometers, but an illusion that transcended the concept of distance and only existed in their dreams.

……

Neon, Moscow, Sweden, Seoul...

Countless people looked up at the radiance illuminating half the world on the sky-curtain.

Children's sparkling eyes were full of longing, as if they saw the perfect family, delicious candies, and collector's edition toys.

Young people had complex expressions, obsessed and obsessed.

Obsessed with that infinite beauty, satisfying all cravings.

Hesitant about that desperate distance and the cold, hard reality.

The elderly's cloudy eyes were full of pain, yet they couldn't help but reach out to touch that bygone pursuit, that impossible future.

Even many worlds were silent at this moment.

…….

"Are ideals just dreams, unreachable dreams?"

The Land of Rain, which had already become much brighter.

Drizzle continued, draping this heavy industrial city in a haze.

A man in a black cloak with red clouds stood quietly in the rain, looking up blankly at the gorgeous light.

He knew.

He had always known.

His ideal, the ideal of bringing permanent peace to the Ninja World, with no more slaughter, no more separation, no more pain, was impossible.

Impractical.

But ideals, ah.

Precisely because they are distant, they are even more impossible to let go of; if one were to discard everything and bet everything to realize them.

"Time to wake up~"

For a long time.

The man lowered his head, sighing deeply.

When the radiance of a true god cannot touch this distance, this cruel reality is placed before him.

Even he, who was extreme to the point of madness, seemed to wake up from a great dream.

When he truly woke up and stepped out of the game, he saw the impracticality of his ideas.

Permanent peace, absolute peace, neither exists.

This is human nature.

But at least, an eye for an eye, blood for blood, making people wake up and feel wary through pain.

The path of using supreme force as a deterrent was not wrong either.

The key lies in what is supreme force.

The man's pupils, which were contracting in circles, slowly lowered, looking at his own pale hands.