Karen had always harbored an anxiety. He worried that at some point in the future, the sky would fall, and even if he rose up in indignation and took his place at the forefront of the battle line, everything within sight around him would still be sheer chaos and bewilderment.
In the words of the High Priest, that was merely a hackneyed doomsday backdrop from theatrical stages.
For while the reality was indeed grim, it was not so brittle as to burst like a dam and collapse in a single instant.
From the Garden of Life to this ice plain today, those turbulent, unrecorded secrets from the end of the previous era were gradually unraveling, revealing their true faces.
The God of Order had led her followers to build a unique prison: inside the prison was a free world, while outside its walls lay the isolated, exiled gods.
Now, the prison walls were beginning to decay, breaches were appearing, and the prisoners outside had finally found the opportunity to storm their way back inside.
Yet after all, it was not an avalanche. These prison guards who bore the name of Order could still attempt to stall the tide—or at least drag the first batch of prisoners who breached the perimeter down with them into mutual destruction.
Tragic, yet not sorrowful; flurried, yet not disordered.
It did not fit the mold of a traditional heroic epic, yet one could still feel a profound, genuine stirring of emotion.
Karen had never cared for the apocalyptic deluge tropes that suddenly appeared in mythical epics; following a deity's merciful teachings to immediately set about building an ark felt more like a comical child's game.
Now, he too was facing the arrival of a deluge, yet he had no need to rush into building a boat.
For looking back, from the very first generation to the present, those who came before had already prepared everything for this day.
Not only had they forged the dawn of this era, they were personally drawing the curtain on it, doing everything in their power to pass a new era down to posterity.
Failing to become the tragic protagonist of a heroic epic might be a pity, but if one actually had to become one, that would be an even greater tragedy.
The prison was collapsing, death was drawing near, yet none of this hindered the guards from engaging in a primitive, meaningless clash of arms while flames soared outside.
Oh no—previously, there had been no such thing. They would originally have chosen the most direct, decisive way to bring about an end, just as Augurev had. Now, at least, Sigman had developed a desire to put on a performance.
She yearned to display herself before the new god.
It had nothing to do with profit, but everything to do with honor—an honor... belonging to a knight!
The Polar Spear thrust downward. The God of Thunder summoned a colossal shield to block the strike, and immediately after, the two deities plunged into battle.
Karen had originally wanted to grasp every stance and technique as much as possible, but he quickly realized a problem: even with his talent for learning, it was impossible to comprehend it while watching.
Even when facing Raniedal, Karen had never been reduced to this. One could only say that the tier and caliber of chief-god level beings truly surpassed ordinary deities far too much; the two simply did not exist in the same dimension.
Thus, Karen could only focus on recording and sensing everything. True understanding would have to wait until he could retrieve it from his memories afterward and mull over it slowly.
Within his field of vision, the blinding glares of divine power flickered and shifted at a terrifyingly high frequency.
In the span of a breath, endless freezing frost and world-ending thunder clashed and alternated thousands upon thousands of times.
In other words, had any living creature been caught in the zone of their confrontation, they would have already been purged by various natural cataclysms a thousand times over.
However, though the God of Thunder's divine body was exceedingly frail, the foundation belonging to a chief god remained intact. She blocked every one of Sigman's offensives and was not knocked down.
At the same time, a spark of hope gleamed in the God of Thunder's divine eyes.
For if Sigman had chosen the path of mutual immolation, she could only pray that the nourishment she had consumed earlier might grant her the slimmest sliver of a chance to survive. But if Sigman chose to fight, then as long as she defeated her opponent, she would have a chance to disrupt this pattern of walking hand-in-hand into incineration.
Beside them, Milogal and Loftina were both perplexed. They could not understand why Sigman was doing this at such a time.
After all, they had already bidden farewell to Tyrannus and had driven the three chief gods to devour the foundations of the three churches. They ought to have departed cleanly, without any redundant complications.
Milogal said, "Sigman, you can stop now."
Compared to the Undying Knight's reminder, Loftina's words cut even deeper to the core: "Sigman, are you feeling unreconciled?"
This questioning was tantamount to doubting Sigman's loyalty to the Lord.
Sigman let out a roar. Her voice was swept up by the wind and snow, erupting into a vast snowstorm howling across the plain:
"I am practicing my devotion to God!"
The Church of Order had no subsidiary gods. "God" referred solely to that singular, unique entity.
Having weathered the initial phase of passive defense, the God of Thunder launched her counterattack. Boundless lightning poured from her eyes, ears, and mouth, attempting to alter the environment of the ice plain.
This was a duel, yet also a struggle for escape. So long as she continued to carve out opportunities, she would have a chance to break free from the ice plain's constraints.
"Heh."
Sigman plunged the Polar Spear into the ground and barked in a deep voice, "Panrol, return!"
The blue armor on her body transformed once more into the ice phoenix. Flowing down the spear, the ice phoenix sank back into the ice plain, reinforcing the plain's seal.
Stripped of her armor, Sigman unhesitatingly withdrew the spear. Her long blue hair fluttered in the wind; set against the grand backdrop of ice and snow beneath the oppressive, heavy canopy of the sky, the scene was magnificent beyond words.
"This is truly a mural come to life," Alfred uttered in heartfelt admiration.
One might have seen countless murals in church halls, but how many people ever had the chance to witness a genuine, living "mural"? Or rather, among those who did, how many lived to recount it?
Diknuo asked, "Aren't you going to paint it now?"
"No, there isn't time. I need to observe. I must etch this feeling into memory before I can vividly render it in a mural: the strongest of the previous generation of the Twelve Knights of Order—Ice-Sealing Knight Sigman."
As a person of the previous era, Diknuo could not help but remind him, "It can't be calculated like that."
"It doesn't matter. Since she has shown the Young Master enough respect, history will naturally grant her the corresponding standing."
Diknuo nodded. "Hard to argue with that."
At that moment, Sigman's divine body was enduring the baptism of thunder, yet she advanced instead of retreating. The spear in her hand traced a sublime arc, freezing all the lightning along its path until the spearhead pierced the God of Thunder's chest.
Yet once it reached this point, it could penetrate no further.
The God of Thunder spread her arms, palms facing inward, conjuring a terrifying vortex of lightning centered upon herself.
"Ahhh!"
Sigman let out a howl. It was not of agony, but rather of exhilaration, even as her divine body began to crack and golden divine blood splattered through the air.
Milogal's bewilderment deepened. Reason dictated that this was the sort of combat style he preferred; Sigman had always prided herself on being an elegant knight atop the glacier, even scorning the way he fought like a savage god.
Yet now, any fool could see how thoroughly Sigman was reveling in it.
Karen felt the same pain, and Karen cried out as well.
This was, after all, a clash at the chief-god level. Power surpassing comprehension brought torment that also defied comprehension. Yet Karen still had his public image to maintain, so he kept any trace of agonizing misery out of his cries.
After a little time had passed, he actually grew somewhat accustomed to it—and even... found a hint of enjoyment in it.
This was not an illusion on Karen's part, nor had he been infected by Neo's peculiar tastes; it was purely because the lightning tearing through his body had begun to frost over, gradually shifting from a state of violent fury into stillness.
And this was precisely the opportunity Sigman had been waiting for.
"Roar!"
With a low rumble in her throat, the world fell into a relative deathly silence, broken only by the crisp cracking of ice.
Falling into silence alongside it was the God of Thunder; only her divine eyes could still maintain their movement.
Pfft!
Sigman's spear lost all resistance and punched completely through the God of Thunder's chest.
Her other hand clenched into a fist, condensing into solid ice, and smashed down toward the God of Thunder's head. As long as this blow landed true, it would signal the end of this battle of gods.
With her dedicated divine artifact in hand and holding the status of a "prison guard," the Lord Knights of Order enjoyed an absolute home-field advantage over those prisoners.
Loftina began to harbor suspicions. "Sigman, is that little friend not the child of Tyrannus's successor, but the illegitimate child of your Child of God?"
Sigman gave no answer; her fist drove forward without pause.
Yet at that exact moment, one of the God of Thunder's eyes burst open, and a thunder python flew out from within.
Diknuo said, "The thunder python—Sangqikal, the number one faith-guarding sacred beast of the Church of Thunder. To think the God of Thunder has been nurturing it in her eye all along. By the way, can you see what that sacred beast looks like clearly?"
After all, under the blinding glare of lightning, standing at such a great distance, it was truly difficult to capture the details.
"No matter. I am intimately familiar with this sacred beast; I could draw it with my eyes closed."
"Oh?"
Alfred took a cigarette case from his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, placed it between his lips, and showed Diknuo the front of the pack.
The Church of Thunder's most renowned specialty was Thunder cigarettes, and printed right on the pack was their church's foremost faith-guarding sacred beast, Sangqikal.
Diknuo had an epiphany. "So that's how it is."
"Haha." Alfred lit the cigarette. He had always maintained the habit of carrying cigarettes and a lighter for the Young Master's sake. "So guess why Sigman chose to initiate a duel against the God of Thunder? Because the Young Master really isn't familiar with the other two chief gods."
"I thought you were going to say it was because the Young Master thinks smoking is harmful to health."
Alfred praised, "Excellent. You've elevated the theme of this mural story to a whole new height."
The appearance of the thunder python formed a barrier, halting Sigman's fist.
Meanwhile, the God of Thunder was also attempting to dissolve the Polar Spear impaling her divine body.
The scales of victory in this duel were beginning to rebalance.
Karen said, "Sigman, bestow your power upon me."
"Great God, I failed to hear Your divine decree clearly."
She had heard it clearly, but was unwilling.
First of all, the God of Thunder had deployed a sacred beast to assist her; how could Sigman bring herself to use the next God of Order as an equivalent tool?
Second, Sigman worried that Karen might face danger. Tyrannus had only asked her to let the new god experience a divine battle in advance; if she grew reckless and caused the new god to fall here, Tyrannus would likely manifest his true self in a fury and suppress her once more before she faded away.
"This is your final battle. I do not want you to lose. Come."
Sigman hesitated for a moment before finally replying:
"I obey Your divine decree."
Immediately, within Sigman's right eye, Karen's figure emerged.
The High Priest, who had been sitting calmly enjoying the curtain-call performance of his comrades-in-arms, abruptly stood up, startling Mobiten and the surrounding guards.
The High Priest snapped, "Sigman, have you gone mad?!"
Sigman's right eye burst open, just as the God of Thunder's had done earlier.
The resulting ice-attribute power surged entirely into Karen's soul consciousness, meaning that Karen now possessed the qualification to guide and manipulate this power.
Karen opened his hand, and a Polar Spear materialized in his palm. Immediately following, a glacier surged across the air, carrying Karen aloft as he flew forward.
In truth, Karen still could not comprehend Sigman's method of combat. Yet not understanding did not prevent him from imitating the form—much like not understanding the meaning of a mathematical formula does not prevent one from plugging in the numbers when faced with a problem.
Perhaps even Diss, who had originally bestowed the family bloodline inheritance upon Karen, never dreamed that his grandson would one day apply their ancestral trait in an arena of chief gods.
Karen arrived before the thunder python, and the spear in his hand plunged into the head of the thunder python.
Boom!
This mimicked strike achieved its effect flawlessly.
The thunder python began to shatter, terrible arcs of lightning spilling outward. After enduring countless terrifying rounds of twisting and tearing, Karen's soul consciousness severed its link with Sigman.
Pfft!
Beside the wheelchair, Karen snapped his eyes open, bent over, and vomited a mouthful of blood. At the same time, blood tinged with gold seeped from his eyes, ears, and nose.
Thanks to the blessing of Hunger Addiction, Karen's consciousness ultimately returned to his body, yet the choice he had made and the scene just now had been fraught with extreme danger.
Had the God of Thunder paid even a fraction more attention to Karen, or taken the initiative to unleash a retaliatory strike, she could very well have strangled the next-generation God of Order in his crib with her own hands.
The High Priest clenched his fists, staring intently at Karen.
"Have you lost your mind?!"
Karen replied, "I merely wanted to experience it more genuinely."
"Do you have any idea that you cannot die right now? At least for now, it is not yet your turn to die!"
"High Priest, right now you sound an awful lot like my manservant."
"I am giving you a solemn warning! Do not rely on your—"
"He is my secretary, my dear friend, my companion, the person in this world who is closest to me, whom I trust the most, and who understands me best. He is the anchor on the path of my faith."
"...Tell me in advance next time so I can prepare to back you up and mitigate the risks."
Across two eras, there could be two Tyrannuses, and there could also be two Ah Fus. If you knew how to stroke the fur of one, you naturally knew how to soothe the other.
Karen had discovered this principle.
Of course, what Karen did not know was that his old superior, the Whip-Wielder, had not only discovered this principle long ago, but had already put it into practical application.
Deprived of the thunder python's protection, Sigman's fist struck the God of Thunder, directly shattering half of her head.
The God of Thunder collapsed, though she was still far from truly falling.
Yet at the very least, Sigman had won this duel.
Sigman gripped the Polar Spear with one hand. Flames ignited in her palm, spreading along the spear and engulfing the God of Thunder's body. She intended to fall together with Thunder.
What Loftina and Milogal found most incomprehensible was why, having known the ending all along, she had insisted on going through the superfluous motions of such a process.
Midst the blaze, Sigman slammed her other hand against her chest with a dull, resonant thud:
"I, Ice-Sealing Knight Sigman, swear allegiance to the great God of Order!"
This was the final salute of a knight before her demise, no different from the parting prayer of many believers before death.
Yet only those directly involved understood the true significance of this gesture.
This was Sigman acknowledging the "Lord's" choice, and at the same time, as the Lord's knight, swearing allegiance to the Lord's successor.
Still kneeling on the ground coughing up blood, Karen quietly reached out to clutch his chest. While it looked like he was writhing in persistent pain, he was, in fact, returning her salute.
The God of Thunder was still struggling, but her struggles had become meaningless by now. Without wavering in the slightest, Sigman dragged her into the divine fire toward their shared demise.
As for the God of Thunder's final choice, it was identical to that of the two Chief Gods of Life before her: she passed down her godhead. Yet unlike the Chief Gods of Life, whose church had already perished back then, the Church of Thunder was still extant and in relatively sound health. Thus, completely unaware and having done nothing at all, they were baffled to suddenly perceive the earth-shattering news that their own chief god had fallen.
In the wave of the returning gods, they had lost directly at the starting line.
Moreover, the primary reason the Church of Thunder was the first of the three to lose was actually a luxury cigarette brand they had concocted in this era to generate revenue.
In her final moments, Sigman lifted her own godhead and said, "Tyrannus, you were right. He truly is a fine young man. For your sake, I shall bestow my godhead upon him."
Hearing this, the corner of the High Priest's mouth twitched involuntarily.
Even the phantom of the crucifix across the heavens seemed to suddenly solidify a fraction, as though on the verge of being unable to resist striking at Sigman before her demise.
If you give him your godhead, then when my Lord descends, to whom will the Lord's godhead go?
The High Priest drew a deep breath and replied, "Exile it."
"Very well."
Sigman seemed not to have expected genuine agreement anyway. She chose to exile her godhead, and then, amidst the burning of divine fire, fell together with the God of Thunder.
Within the logistical supply base, all the Order priests began saluting in mourning.
Once the ceremony concluded, the High Priest urged:
"Alright, you two hurry up as well and bring this to an end."
Milogal suddenly raised a hand, his gaze fixed intently on Karen, who had just stood up beside the High Priest:
"Tyrannus, I'd like to guide the little friend, too."
Chapter 925