Chapter 662: Order?

That thing is still growing.

Its top has already reached the theater's ceiling, and the golden light mist seeps out through cracks in the ceiling, spreading into the dim sky outside like a gold flower in bloom.

Golden symbols fall from the air, landing on Ilya.

Ilya looks toward the table.

Robin still stands there, eyes closed, hands clasped to the chest.

The golden figure stands before her, like a shield that blocks the whole world.

Hymns swirl around her, and the golden symbols flutter about, encasing her in a golden protective shell.

Gudazi stands amid the pile of wood chips, eyes fixed on the golden figure on the table; the blank expression on his round face has vanished, replaced by one that takes something seriously.

She inhales deeply, raises her hand, and the black‑red mist reconvenes at her fingertips, denser than before.

But the golden figure gives her no further chance.

Golden ripples explode from it, spreading in all directions.

Gudazi is knocked flying again.

This time she flies farther; wood chips and dust erupt from the pit, shrouding the entire theater in a hazy mist.

Ilya crouches behind a broken column, watching it all, her crimson eyes filled with shock.

That orange little pervert is now utterly powerless against the golden figure.

Ilya's mouth twitches.

The praising voices surge out of the theater.

They wash over the ruins like a tide.

The Noble Phantasms halt, the rain‑like dense Noble Phantasms all freezing mid‑air in an instant.

The whole sky stops.

Those light blocks, the black‑red light blocks spewed from Giant Fox's mouth and blasted into the sky by Divine Lord, also stop.

They hang in the sky, like nails‑driven stars emitting dim red light, motionless.

Saber's hand twitches.

She lowers her head to look at her hand, at the hand gripping the sword hilt.

The five fingers move slightly on the hilt.

She can move.

The layer of power that surged from Gudazi, which made her feel like a marionette being controlled, is scattered the moment the praising voices flood in.

She pulls the sword back, not sheathing it but planting it on the ground.

The tip of the black greatsword embeds in the rubble; the scarlet pattern on its blade flashes once with the praising voices, then dims again.

She stands there, her silver hair drifting faintly among the hovering paper fragments—no, there is no wind; why is her hair floating?

Saber glances at the paper fragments still floating in the air.

It's not wind.

It's the sounds.

When the praising sounds flow through the air, they generate ripple‑like vibrations.

Weiba Daye's little head's Flame shoots up a notch.

The dark‑purple Mecha stands amid the ruins, its little head ablaze with Lapis Flame protruding from the Mecha's neck, eyes bulging.

"This this this—"

"Feels a bit familiar, this—"

The little head tilts left, the Flame‑lit eyes squinting into slits, like someone straining to discern something far away.

"Hmm—"

Saber turns her head, looking at Weiba Daye.

"Order?"

When those two words come from Weiba Daye's mouth, his voice drops a bit.

Saber's brows knit.

Order?

"What is that?"

When those three words leave her mouth, Weiba Daye's Flame shoots up another notch.

"This this this—"

Its voice becomes halting again, like someone being asked a problem they aren't good at, rummaging through their mind for an answer, but after a long search finding none.

"I could say a couple of lines about Patrol Hunt, a couple about Abundance, a couple about Pleasure, but this—"

It lifts its hand, gesturing once in the air.

"This 'Order' thing, I'm not too familiar with it either. I only know there's a Star God called something— that— that—"

Its hand waves a few times in the air, then lowers.

"Anyway, there's a Star God who oversees this, but that Star God long ago— how to say— it's not that they're gone, it's— it's—"

Its voice gets stuck again.

Saber looks at its twisted face, silent for two seconds.

"Do you know Pinokanni?"

When that name leaves her mouth, Weiba Daye's Flame flickers again.

"Pinokanni?"

Its head tilts to the other side.

"Grand Event Star?"

Saber's eyebrows twitched.

"That's the place of your universe."

The Flame on Weiba Daye's little head steadied a bit, and the expression on his face changed from concentration to something more complex.

"Our universe's?"

It repeated those four words, as if confirming something.

Saber gave no answer.

Her gaze shifted from Weiba Daye to the golden silhouette in the distance that was growing larger.

That thing was now so large that she had to tilt her head back to see its top.

Its body glowed amid the dim ruins, like a huge lamp that had been lit, and the golden light radiated outward, making the gray broken pillars and walls flicker between light and dark.

Weiba Daye followed her gaze, and the Flame on his little head flickered again.

That massive golden thing.

"Damn."

The chanting grew louder.

The Noble Phantasms trembled at that sound.

Swords, spears, and axes buzzed in the chanting, like individuals softly singing.

The light blocks that fell from the sky, like solidified clots of blood, faded in color amid the chanting, shifting from black‑red to dark red.

Saber relaxed her grip on the sword.

When that sound swept over her, she felt as if she had been washed by something.

The Flame on Weiba Daye's little head burned brighter in that sound.

Its eyes fixed on the golden silhouette in the distance.

"Order."

Perspective shift.

Weber stood beside the car, his phone still out of his pocket.

His gaze shifted from the golden crack in the sky, just as he was about to say something to Ailisi Feier, and then his whole body froze.

It was as if something was pressing down from the sky, his mind went blank.

He lifted his head.

There was an eye in the sky.

It wasn't a metaphor, not an exaggeration; there really was an eye.

The eye hovered above the clouds, so large it occupied half the sky, its pupil golden, like something ancient.

The pupil turned slowly, as if appraising something.

Below the eye was a person's upper body.

The silhouette was so huge that Weber had to tilt his head back as far as possible to see its outline.

Its body emerged from the clouds, like an iceberg rising from the sea; its lower half was hidden behind the clouds, only the portion above the chest exposed.

Its face showed no expression, or even could be said to have a face; the outline was too vague.

Its arms extended from both sides of its body, gently clasping the sides.

Weber's lips trembled.