Inside a villa in Luojia City, Piaget sat in his wheelchair, facing the crackling fireplace.
The firelight flickered across his face, casting alternating patches of light and shadow.
Paintings depicting loving memories of his past life floated up from beside his feet one after another, drifting into the fireplace to catch fire.
He watched them intently, as if appreciating the way the paintings unfolded against a different backdrop.
Returning from outside, Mr. Bede pushed open the entryway door. Seeing the scene before him, he gasped in astonishment.
"Piaget, what are you doing?"
Piaget paid no attention to Mr. Bede's shout, continuing to burn the paintings.
"Tell me, what's wrong?" Mr. Bede stepped closer. "Did you sense something new again?"
Piaget remained silent, quietly glancing toward the paint box resting on the end table beside him. It was a gift his wife had made from her own ashes, once the thing he cherished most in the world.
Yet now, that very box of ashes began drifting toward the fireplace as well.
Mr. Bede lunged forward and grabbed the paint box. "Have you lost your mind?! This is the keepsake your wife left you!"
This time, Bede's voice was laced with unease and panic, for Linda was the sole tether binding Piaget to the Church of the Mural God.
Once that tether snapped, Piaget would sever all ties with the church forever. Having accompanied him for so long, Bede knew all too well that Piaget had always rejected and resisted the doctrines of the Church of the Mural God... In truth, he didn't even genuinely enjoy painting!
His rhythm interrupted, Piaget finally looked at Mr. Bede. "Mr. Bede, honestly, most of the time I knew you were lying to me, yet I was more than willing to let you deceive me.
"But now, I can't keep lying to myself any longer.
"The truth is...
"From the very beginning, it was nothing more than a conceited dream of my own making—a sweet dream, and a nightmare."
To Bede's horror, as Piaget spoke, a grey mist began billowing from the man's body, making his entire presence turn darker and more sinister.
"That day at the crematorium, when Karen personally placed Linda's ashes into my hands, I should have faced reality: she abandoned me and fled into the god's embrace.
"Between me and the god, she chose the god without a second thought.
"You saw it with your own eyes, because you were there that day too. Heh... without you, she wouldn't have been able to fly up there either, unable to receive the Mural God's guidance."
"She will return, Piaget! As long as you keep walking down this path of faith, she will return, truly!"
"See? You're still lying to me."
Piaget fixed his gaze on the paint box in Mr. Bede's hands.
Bang!
Mr. Bede was violently flung backward, crashing heavily against the wall.
The paint box hovered in midair, then, under Piaget's watchful gaze, glided into the fireplace. Under the searing heat of the flames, it twisted and deformed, bursting with halos of various colors.
"She was ashes to begin with, so I should treat them as ashes. It deserves to die, she deserves to die, she deserves to die!"
Mr. Bede struggled up from the floor, but before he could steady his footing, he heard Piaget's sneer:
"Mad believers, a mad church, a mad Mural God Rielsa, and a mad Linda."
Piaget's gaze landed on Mr. Bede, and an invisible force hoisted Bede into midair.
At that moment, Bede saw a golden shimmer swirling within Piaget's eyes.
The fall of an old god marked the birth of a new god.
To a certain extent, Piaget was just like Karen right now—no, he had been waiting even earlier than Karen for the Mural God's true end so he could begin his own "new life."
He would not be Rielsa, nor would he be Piaget. The divine corruption would forge an entirely new monstrosity.
"Mr. Bede, I really do loathe you. Tell me, how long has it been since you went home?"
"I..."
"Don't you feel any remorse? On the night your family was doomed to perish, you never thought of stopping it. Instead, you excitedly looked forward to painting a canvas of the tragedy. Deep down, you must often feel guilty and self-reproachful about that, right? At least occasionally?
"Actually, you can never understand me. You will never understand my longing and yearning for my wife, because in your eyes, family is nothing more than a standard accessory of status—like the tie you wear with a suit, or the goblet paired with red wine. As long as they exist, it's enough. Heh, even having once possessed them is enough."
"Piaget, you are right now... Aaaargh!"
A severe melting sensation surged through Mr. Bede's body. He felt like a block of congealed paint being dissolved away.
"I despise you all. I despise this paintbrush, the paper, the easel, the Church of the Mural God, and you. And now, I've even begun to despise her. Every single one of you should..."
Just then, Diss's figure materialized in the room.
He stood between Piaget and Mr. Bede.
Thud!
Mr. Bede dropped to the floor, gasping frantically for air. He had been a single step away from death.
Diss walked toward Piaget. Piaget raised his hand and pointed at him, but ripples of light formed before Diss, allowing him to step effortlessly in front of the wheelchair.
Raising a single finger, Diss pressed it down onto Piaget's brow.
Piaget was forced back into his seat.
Diss said, "It seems you are not prepared to receive the inheritance. You are already losing yourself."
The indifference in Piaget's eyes gradually softened. Looking at Diss in utter bewilderment, he asked, "This... what happened to me?"
Diss did not answer. Reaching out toward the crown of Piaget's head, he made a gentle grasping motion, catching threads of flowing golden light in his palm.
This was an ongoing divine inheritance.
The master gods who fell not long ago had all passed down their inheritances at the church level. One figure from the Silent Ones had managed to receive an inheritance individually due to the destruction of the Church of Life, but that person... was at least a temple elder.
Piaget was just an ordinary mortal—well, a divine servant of the Church of the Mural God. How could he possibly withstand such an inheritance all at once?
In Diss's other hand, the Scythe of War appeared.
Mr. Bede immediately cried out, "Lord Diss, I beg of you, do not sever my Lord's inheritance ritual! This is the hope of our Church of the Mural God!"
Diss replied, "Bede, I didn't come to save you. I came to save a friend my grandson entrusted to my care."
Despair washed over Bede's face. He knew he was about to witness everything he had pursued his entire life perish right before his eyes.
Yet just then, a voice echoed from within the golden threads:
"My love... my love, my husband..."
Piaget raised his head. He heard it, instinctively searching for the sound.
After a moment's hesitation, Diss opened his hand. A golden thread pulled free on its own, condensing into Linda's figure before she threw herself toward Piaget.
Piaget opened his arms, embracing her tightly.
The two clung together like lovers reunited after years of separation.
The inheritance resumed once more.
Yet the sight brought no warmth to Diss's heart.
A similar sentiment was shared by Karen, who was observing the battle high above Samsara Valley.
He saw Lord Dal break free. Aided by a wisp of a soul's remnant consciousness, it tore away from the Mural God's collapsing, burning body and fled frantically outward.
However, it was currently trapped in the vortex of a terrifying battlefield. Breaking free was only the first step; at any moment, it could become a minor casualty of the conflict.
Little Kanna shouted excitedly, "Erwang! Erwang!"
"Kanna, go down."
"On it!"
The bone dragon's colossal frame began to descend. It was a perilous maneuver; even though the Church of Samsara held immense dread toward the future High Priest of the Church of Order, anything could happen on a battlefield.
Most importantly, the Moon Goddess was mounting her final, desperate struggle.
Fortunately, the descent went smoothly. Ukonga struck first, intercepting several stray spells before scooping Lord Dal onto the dragon's back.
With that accomplished, Kanna rapidly pulled up without waiting for orders, steering clear of the danger zone.
Reaching the dragon's back, Lord Dal ignored Ukonga, who had just saved it, and scrambled directly before Karen to kneel in an impeccably formal posture.
Beside it, a wisp of Linda's soul condensed.
"Mr. Karen, now I must return to his side."
Karen wanted to ask: Are you returning to your husband's side, or to your god's side?
In the end, Karen said nothing, merely waving his hand to signal that she could leave.
Everyone had the right to make their own choices in life. If what happened to Piaget had happened to Karen, Karen would never have tolerated it, let alone forgiven it. Yet Piaget yearned for Linda's return, even after being deeply hurt by her once, twice, thrice, or even more...
No matter how close friends were, matters of the heart were not something an outsider could meddle in.
After all, an even more baffling case was that dog back home, who was currently away on a distant expedition.
The golden page emanated a new glow. Without pausing to catch up with Lord Dal, Karen checked the latest message sent by Mr. Hoffen:
"The latest intelligence from the operations room shows that besides the God of Samsara, another goddess has appeared on the Moon Wheel. Boy, care to guess which goddess it is?"
Karen replied, "The Dark Moon, isn't it?"
"Not bad, kid! You actually know such an obscure goddess. I doubt even the people of Dark Moon Island know that the Dark Moon totem they revere is actually the worship of a goddess."
The Mural God Rielsa had used her brush to craft the illusion that the God of Samsara was returning here; therefore, the one bearing the same role on the Moon Wheel had to be the Goddess of the Dark Moon.
This goddess had very little written about her in divine history because her sole purpose in ascending to godhood had been to exact vengeance on the Moon Goddess Artemis.
To increase her own strength, Artemis had forcibly devoured all manner of lunar inheritances, and the Dark Moon Goddess's mother had been one of them.
For a minor deity to challenge a master god was undeniably arduous, and the outcome... could be said to have been predetermined.
Ultimately, her religious legacy was severed, and her body was shattered into countless fragments—completely obliterated.
Back on a mysterious sacrificial island on the open sea, Karen had acquired the Dark Moon God's bone. It was then that Karen had sworn to the mental imprint within the divine bone: he would help her achieve vengeance and destroy the Moon God Church.
"Dark Moon, is this your revenge?"
...
Above the Moon Wheel, a scene strikingly similar to the one in Samsara Valley was unfolding at that very moment.
The God of Samsara roared relentlessly. She could not accept that her return coordinates had shifted so absurdly, nor could she bear the fact that she was gradually being worn down under the desperate assault of these mere ants.
Had she fallen in true battle, she might have found peace; how could a mighty master god who had survived the era of the divine wars fear a life-and-death clash?
Yet right now, she was being whittled down to death at her weakest moment.
She had endured through an entire era, finally waiting until Order decayed and finally stepping one foot back into this world, only to face such an end.
"Dark Moon, release your hold on me! I will help you extinguish all of Artemis's legacy!"
In this moment, the God of Samsara had no choice but to plead with the Dark Moon. A minor deity whom she wouldn't have spared a second glance during the previous era now possessed the power to snuff out her final hope.
"Dark Moon, release me! I believe Artemis is currently in Samsara Valley! I will return immediately and avenge you against Artemis—I swear upon the Laws of Samsara!"
Yet the battered Goddess of the Dark Moon did not accept this seemingly reasonable condition.
She forcibly ignited her shattered form—a body broken beyond recognition, practically cobbled together as a temporary vessel—producing a minuscule spark.
Then, that spark set Samsara ablaze.
Below, the Moon God Church's legions, having suffered catastrophic casualties, were instantly galvanized and launched a fresh wave of offensive strikes.
"Dark Moon, why are you doing this?! Why?!"
At this moment, the core holy lands of two orthodox churches, two separate battlefields, entered the twilight of their climaxes simultaneously.
They were about to commit deicide, while their own gods were likewise about to be slain.
...
Church of Order, Divine Administrative Hall, the tea lounge.
After sending out the first official decree drafted on the High Priest's behalf, Alfred turned to the frozen "sculpture" seated opposite him and asked:
"After this, Samsara and the Moon God Church will completely lose the ability to resist, reduced to mere hollow shells. How do you intend to deal with them?"
"Once the thorns are pulled, they can be driven with ease. We must work to transform the church circle from actively welcoming the gods' return to collectively resisting the return of the pantheon.
"This is the course I have set.
"However, you shouldn't be asking me such a naive question. So, what is it you truly want to say?"
Alfred replied, "There is something you might not know. My young master once swore an oath to the mental imprint within the Dark Moon God's bone, promising to help her complete her revenge and destroy the Moon God Church."
With scarcely a moment's hesitation or weighing of options, as swift as pure instinct, the High Priest's voice sounded once more:
"Draft the decree."
Alfred immediately readied himself to write the second decree.
"Order Commander Daan, Commander Silma, and Commander Malogis to lead their respective knight orders and depart immediately for the Moon Wheel, to extinguish every trace of the Moon God Church's legacy."
Having dictated the decree, the High Priest's voice resonated once again:
"The Lord's promise tolerates not the slightest desecration."
Chapter 934