Chapter 248: True Creator

Mr. A before the altar had already closed his eyes again, his arms half raised in a gesture of opening his embrace to hug forward, while chanting aloud in ancient Hermes:

"Lord who created all;

Ruler behind the veil of shadows;

The fallen nature of all living beings.

Your devout believer prays for Your descent;

I offer my body, to serve as a vessel, to bear Your great will!"

Amid the prayers, surging light descended from the unknown, completely enveloping Mr. A.

The unwilling resentments and long-accumulated negative emotions that had turned into human figures around them swirled inward like a tide, surging into Mr. A's body together with the light.

Seeing the ritual of the True Creator's descent enter its final stage, Rekton handed the universal key to Klein and said:

"Leave here first. What comes next is not something you can watch."

Klein nodded gravely, then turned and ran toward the outside of the hall.

The royal family should be dealing with Tris's escape, the Aurora Society was summoning the True Creator—what was the Witch Cult doing? A strong unease surged in Klein's heart, as though something momentous was happening.

He used Flame Leap from time to time to accelerate his steps away from there, and the universal key had already been sealed by him inside an iron cigarette case he carried with him.

He didn't even know why he had still used it just now, when the universal key had already screwed him over so many times.

Inside the hall, Mr. A's body had absorbed all the light, and the aura on him had become extremely terrifying.

Behind him appeared an illusory, flowing shadow full of implications of corruption, filth, and mutation, and behind this curtain-like shadow, something was about to break through.

The illusory shadow gradually solidified, covering Mr. A's body, turning into a pitch-black, viscous, corruption-laden black 'ocean.'

The shadows in the hall rapidly activated, and under the corruption of authorities such as corruption, filth, and mutation, the unwilling resentments and long-accumulated negative emotions gradually gained substance.

At this moment, Mr. A had become the incarnation of the True Creator's descent.

Taking advantage of the fact that He was still adapting to the body, Rekton began chanting the honorific name of the Hidden Sage in a low voice:

"Sage who perceives the world, eye that peers into truth, incarnation of endless knowledge and spiritual numerology!"

"I pray to You;"

"Praying for hidden power."

A magnificent aura descended, and dazzling starlight was reflected in Rekton's eyes.

The continuous, twinkling starlight isolated the surrounding reality and the spirit world simultaneously, forming an independent world.

It had a bit of the flavor of that mystical reappearance of the Idealized Realm I had once used—a coincidence? Or was this simply a higher-level usage of that mystical reappearance?

While Rekton was still pondering, Bernadette had already taken out the Sage's Forehead Ornament.

The vertical eye inlaid with diamonds flickered with pure light, giving an exceptionally sacred and wisdom-filled impression.

Bernadette lightly pressed it to her forehead, and the next moment, her body blurred, decomposing into stream after stream of vast and complex knowledge, becoming a creature of pure information flow.

With the Hidden Sage's blessing, she could fully draw upon the power of the Sage's Forehead Ornament for a short time, exerting Sequence 2 strength.

The information flow that Bernadette had blurred into did not reassemble into her body, but instead reflected star after star in midair, densely packed and dazzlingly brilliant.

These stars shed ray after ray of radiance, converging into a magnificent Light Giant Pillar that enveloped the entire hall.

Those substantiated resentments and negative emotions were rapidly dissolved by the starlight, collapsing and dissipating.

The activated shadows in the hall instantly disintegrated into a field of gloom, which in turn began to encroach upon the radiance scattered from midair.

For a time, the gloom and the scattered brilliance reflected each other in the hall; the cold, warmthless light and the heavy, nearly solid pitch-black eroded each other.

Rekton's closed eyes suddenly opened, and a dazzling river of stars appeared in his gaze.

The next moment, his body blurred for an instant, turning into a statue formed from the convergence of countless starlight, with only the Bone Staff in his hand remaining as it was.

The surrounding gloom and brilliant starlight both turned a blind eye to him, as if he were something that did not exist.

Rekton stepped forward easily, stopping only after approaching the center of the hall; his body, like a statue cast from dazzling starlight, leaned back slightly, arms half-spread, as if embracing the sun.

The next moment, directly above him, an enormous pure orb of light wreathed in countless sacred flames materialized out of thin air, and its magnificent, pure, blazing radiance enveloped the entire hall.

The blazing radiance was like a sun, instantly obscuring the brilliance of the starlight and melting away the pitch-black that was spreading upward.

The power of the Sun Domain inflicted tremendous damage on the pitch-black that was full of filth, corruption, and heavy negative emotions; they were being continuously dissolved.

But the all-enveloping gloom seemed unaffected, as if it could devour even light.

At the very center of this gloom, at the spot where Mr. A had previously stood, a giant cocoon wrapped in pitch-black liquid revealed the massive humanoid figure inside after the blazing light evaporated its outer layer.

He had three heads; aside from the handsome face on the neck that somewhat resembled Mr. A, two shadow-shrouded heads grew from the shoulders on either side—one young, one aged.

The head in the very middle had its eyes and lips tightly shut, its expression as serene as if awaiting the arrival of death.

The heads on the left and right shoulders, however, were each ferocious and crazed, wanting to unleash their own power and madness.

A phantom of a woman, unbelievably beautiful, quietly appeared, her eyes tightly closed, as if she had fallen into a sleep from which she could never awaken.

This figure gradually merged with the True Creator's incarnation, and an irresistible drowsiness appeared on Him, as if about to fall into the exhaustion of eternal slumber.

This was the angel-level mystical reappearance 'Sleeping Beauty'; even as the True Creator's incarnation, He was briefly unable to resist this drowsiness.

Immediately after, layer upon layer of starlight rippled outward like waves, washing flakes of pitch-black debris off the True Creator's body.

The entire hall began to silently disintegrate under the washing of the starlight, turning into scattered flakes, and even the surrounding colors were evaporating and vanishing at tremendous speed.

The Bone Staff in Rekton's grasp automatically extended from its tip a blade of flesh and spirit the length of an arm, and dots of brass-colored glimmer wandered along the top of the staff, as if searching for the most suitable point of entry.

That was a Prophet characteristic being utilized in the form of grazing.

As a clone separated from the True Creator, Sasilier was highly skilled at utilizing the characteristics of adjacent pathways.

The next instant, the Bone Staff in Rekton's hand slipped from his grip and plunged into the front of the massive humanoid's neck, right at the junction of the three enormous heads.

The previously drowsy massive humanoid suddenly jolted awake, the heads on His left and right shoulders struggling violently, and the surrounding gloom surged in an instant.

He wanted to twist reality with words to produce a Word of Spirit effect, but could not produce any sound no matter what.

Before the surging gloom could reach him, Rekton's figure blurred, decomposing into streams of information torrents that surged into the dazzling sun above.

The next instant, rays of pure and clear light burst forth from the dazzling sun, illuminating every corner of the surroundings, leaving not the slightest trace of darkness; the surrounding area became a kingdom of no darkness in this moment.

Streams of information converged in midair into Beiernadai's silhouette, she holding a pale mask that flashed with metallic luster in her hand.

The mask had hollows only at the eyes, with no seams anywhere else.

Beiernadai immediately put it on her face; her body began to die bit by bit, a rotting, decaying aura spreading from within outward.

She slightly raised her right hand, manifesting before the True Creator an extremely complex and mysterious three‑dimensional sigil; within its range, all things and concepts would inevitably head toward an end, even death itself would vanish.

The aura of the True Creator's incarnation also waned bit by bit, as if sprinting full‑speed toward the endpoint of death.

The two heads on His shoulders quickly rotted, becoming mottled; His massive shadow‑built frame continually shed fragments, cracking open fissures from which fine pale hairs sprouted.

Then a black, viscous liquid welled up, layer upon layer, opposing the corrosion of rot and decay.

Leiketon, incarnated as an information being, continually wandered within the dazzling sun he had created; he began adjusting this sun toward its mystical and literal meanings, and light and heat suddenly surged.

The True Creator's incarnation slightly lifted its head, raised both arms, as if awaiting the descent of death.

Sensing a lethal danger, the two heads on His shoulders desperately struggled, yet under the seal of pallid death they could never take shape.

This was the tacit cooperation they had rehearsed countless times before!

The pure, blazing white, scorching, dazzling sun hurtled straight toward the True Creator's incarnation.

The space between them seemed distorted, and this sun instantly appeared before Him.

Blazing white engulfed everything—radiance, gloom, and the faint glimmers of bronze hue that flickered into view.

Under a mysterious guidance, every weak point on the True Creator's body was revealed, and all forces launched an attack in the most rational, swift, and effortless manner.

He was continually destroyed, fading away bit by bit.

The area concealed by the Hidden Sage was completely shrouded in blinding, scorching white.

Suddenly, a torrent of information surged forth, bursting out of the concealed area.

In midair, Beiernadai's body was reconstituted from vast, pure knowledge; her complexion was extremely pale, and she still held a pale mask flashing with metallic luster in her hand.

She gazed ahead at an area that seemed perfectly normal; a violet light flashed in her eyes, and in her vision that formerly normal region was engulfed by blazing white light, everything there rapidly disintegrating.

(End of chapter)