"That little girl truly has tremendous fortune," Old Hoffen remarked with emotion. "The Phantom Knight may have banished His own godhead, but my student holds a notebook and received the legacy of Tyrannus's quill. He can summon that inheritance whenever necessary. It was practically tailor-made for her; it couldn't be given to anyone else.
"Add to that the parting gift from the God of Assassins before His fall, and the girl essentially gained twin godheads in one stroke. Both belong to the same domain of Assassin rules, so there is no conflict between them. She can inherit them flawlessly."
Madame Tangli threw back her shoulders and declared proudly, "She is my student."
Delon felt his head spinning at the mention of "godheads" and "inheritances." He understood every word, yet their meaning remained a blur, as if he were studying the blueprint of some high-order array lost epochs ago.
Still, as soon as his wife made her proud claim, Delon chimed in on pure instinct:
"She is my grandson's wife."
Never mind whether it was officially settled yet; Delon had been certain of it from the very beginning.
Only after making his declaration did the old man seem to register what "twin godheads" truly meant. A wide grin broke across his face, and he chuckled, muttering repeatedly, "Heh, godhead... heh, a deity..."
Fortunately, Delon remembered to draw a quick breath, sparing himself the unsightly scene of drool escaping the corner of his mouth.
Madame Tangli tilted her head back and took a deep breath, silently reminding herself: *He has been your husband for half a lifetime. You cannot beat him to death.*
Old Hoffen deliberately threw cold water on their mood, adding, "Though the girl obtained the inheritance, doing so has snuffed out her own potential..."
Delon asked in bewilderment, "She's already become a god, and that still snuffs out her potential?"
Old Hoffen did not explain further, continuing instead, "In essence, she is merely taking up the torch—a sacrificial offering prepared to cast itself into the flames whenever the next cycle demands it."
At those words, Delon's excitement was snuffed out at once. He blinked, the rims of his eyes reddening slightly, yet he still muttered, "For Order, it is only right."
After mumbling this, Delon glanced cautiously toward Dis's back, feeling somewhat guilty.
Madame Tangli protested, "Why should she!"
Dis, who had remained silent all this while, spoke up:
"It is only right."
Madame Tangli clenched her fists, yet no one came forward to comfort her.
Nothing could be done about it. She, an outsider bearing a different surname, had married an Order priest and subsequently borne a whole house of Order priests.
In the past, it had never felt like an issue; a household of Order priests offered peace and stability. In recent years, however, a single current of thought had begun permeating every level of the Church of Order, which could be summarized simply: the time had come to honor their oaths and lay down their lives for Order.
Old Hoffen teased slyly, "I'd suggest having children early, though."
Delon nodded at once, pecking like a chick feeding on grain.
Hearing that, Madame Tangli's anger subsided somewhat. Clearly, she took no issue with the suggestion.
Meanwhile, one of the subjects of that suggestion was currently on the roof of the Whip of Order Disciplinary Department building, holding an incantation telescope and admiring the scene unfolding across the sky.
On the low tea table before him sat peanuts, candied fruits, and wine. It looked as though he were enjoying a panoramic, stereoscopic stage performance spanning the entire firmament.
"Little Jerry, put a bit more strength into it! I can't see clearly!"
Even with the high-order incantation telescope combined with Little Jerry's power, Richard's view was intermittent. A sudden exchange between the two deities released shockwaves of power potent enough to leave his eyes red and burning.
Yet no matter how much it stung, he could not resist continuing to watch.
"Why didn't you go watch from the teleportation array hall? More people are observing from there, so the interference is thinner."
Buken appeared behind Richard.
If Dalivenro was deliberately being held down due to his status as a member of the Bald Faction, then there was another person who had known from the start that he stood no chance—Buken.
Even though the strikes he organized against the Silent Ones had yielded remarkable results, he still could not wash away the original sin clinging to him.
Rubbing his eyes, Richard looked back at Buken and smiled. "Whatever they're doing, I won't go join the bustle."
"What do you mean?"
Richard said, "I'm different from you all, aren't I?"
"When did you realize that?"
"A long time ago."
Belonging to the inner circle yet lingering outside its true bounds—Richard had sensed it early on.
"It's not what you think," Buken explained. "This isn't alienation."
Buken knew that Karen keeping Richard out was actually a form of protection.
"You don't need to comfort me; I'm very happy." Richard waved a hand dismissively. He had always believed that reaching his current position was solely due to Karen's promotion. He would never brood over wild, pointless grievances.
Buken froze for a moment. As a former Whip-Wielder, he could not detect the slightest trace of resentment or discontent in Richard. This young man had always radiated a contented, positive aura.
After interacting with him, Buken felt that tiny bit of imbalance and disappointment in his own heart vanish without a trace.
He truly lived up to being the Lord's cousin.
"Do you want to watch?" Richard pointed at the telescope and asked.
"Let me guide your vision."
Buken stepped forward, resting a hand on Richard's shoulder. Together, they cut through the haze to observe the divine war above.
Richard said, "A layer still separates us after all. I know the scale is unfathomably grand, but the immersive feeling falls a bit short."
Buken replied, "If this civilization era—cultivated with such tremendous difficulty—were smashed to pieces, what purpose would Order's barrier have served?"
Richard asked, "When are you going up?"
Buken asked, "Just how much do you know?"
…
The silhouette of the God of the Fallen had emerged. In mythological accounts across numerous epochs, He was referred to as the "Corpse Carrier."
With every deity that fell, another brand appeared upon His arm. Yet He did not truly draw near to Vienn, even though the freshest scent of divine pollution lingered there.
Rumors held that the God of the Fallen had once been an epochal overlord who had lost His way.
He collected corpses epoch after epoch solely to find His former self.
In another time zone, the sun split into overlapping silhouettes, as if a second blazing sun were brewing. It had once approached Vienn, only to be turned back by Light. Yet It had not been frightened away; the time had simply not yet arrived.
It was waiting—waiting for the era to revive the sun.
In the depths of the ocean, powerful sea beasts roused from slumber. Encircling an ancient, enigmatic altar, they commenced sacrificial rites, chanting and praying in their own tongue, yearning for the return of the Ocean Era.
Deep within the altar lay the totem brands of numerous deities of the ocean lineage. This was a mural of the highest order, and the mural of the Sea God was among them.
Five-colored crystals began to fuse, and the embryonic form of an ancient idol took shape. Though devoid of worshippers, the wind wailed from afar as it swept past, as if reminiscing about that long-lost age when all things were weathered into sand.
Deep within a volcano that had triggered an apocalyptic crisis several epochs ago, long since extinguished and dead, a spark rekindled, illuminating the collapsed space. Uncounted deities of the fire lineage had once journeyed here in person to seek its mysteries and insights.
Within the Land of God Burials, the corpses of demon gods howled incessantly, as though cheering, yet also as though resisting.
An invisible force—no, countless invisible hands—seemed to be driving it forward, facilitating its return from Kevin's banishment.
Yet that entity had not truly descended, nor had He fallen. The figure that had once trampled the Land of God Burials flat remained etched in the depths of the fierce demons' souls within.
Still, they had no choice, just like the chief gods who continuously descended and fell.
Even in the realm of gods, there existed consumables meant solely to wear down Order's final barrier.
Deep within the palace of the extreme northern frost, the God of Eternity could no longer hold back.
Order had not yet descended or fallen; for now, those let in by Order were merely chief gods of the preceding epoch.
"Order, I cannot wait any longer."
The optimal moment awaited by the other epochal overlords held no meaning whatsoever for Eternity.
He had chosen self-exile out of loneliness. Now that He wished to return, should anyone dare bar His path, He would not hesitate to wage war against them.
His sole hesitation stemmed from the conversation the God of Order had once held with Him across the epochs within this very palace:
*Do you wish to challenge only me, or do you wish to gather the epochal overlords of the past and fight to your heart's content?*
Yet a variable remained a variable, never subject to control.
In the previous epoch, a significant reason the Light camp had ultimately triumphed over the Eternity camp was that He, the supreme leader of the Eternity camp, had been absent from the entire war from beginning to end.
"Order, here I come."
The land of extreme frost began to quake. White snow melted swiftly, and all life began to stir. When Eternity returned, the first thing to alter was that stillness which had seemed immutable since ancient times.
This anomaly immediately struck a chord across multiple clandestine factions.
They had tacitly driven the deities of the previous epoch to grind down the prison's remaining structure while nourishing the conditions for their own returns. None of them expected an entity of equal standing to willingly step forward as the vanguard.
Such self-sacrificing spirit filled these ancient entities, who had weathered uncounted eons, with utter astonishment.
This was Eternity.
Yet Eternity's power encountered no obstruction whatsoever; however much He channeled in, precisely that much crossed through.
Upon the throne, a humanoid phantom manifested directly.
The God of Eternity abruptly halted His transference. Then, He unleashed a furious roar:
"Order, what in the world do you mean by this!"
Certain truths could only be discovered through personal trial—namely, that Order's barrier offered no defense against Him at all!
Reason told this former epochal overlord that Order was extending goodwill toward Him;
yet emotionally, He could not accept it, viewing it as contempt on Order's part.
He could continue His return right now, descending with His full might, and then strike a reverse blow from within this decayed, battered enclosure, throwing this epoch wide open.
He rose and appeared outside the palace, towering above the melting snow and ice.
He extended His hand.
Within the containment space, the Spear of Eternity, held beneath layer upon layer of restraints, felt its master's summons.
Michios was horrified, and his mind fell into disarray. He had long since deciphered the rules of this world, and had witnessed with his own eyes the divine war of camps in the previous epoch as well as the ultimate barrier established by Order;
thus, he had never imagined that his master would return at a moment like this.
Through painstaking calculation, he had turned himself into a "sage," only to suddenly realize in the end that every premise he held had been wrong from the very start.
Above Vienn, the divine war raged on. New knights continuously descended, and gods continuously fell.
This was a slaughter whose outcome was predestined yet had to be carried out—a process of mutual destruction that had to be undergone.
At that moment, Tyrannus sensed the dreadful aura emerging from that direction. Though faint, it thoroughly crushed all the rats that had hidden away for an entire epoch.
Old Hoffen's pages began fluttering frantically, trembling from sheer terror:
"Eternity... Eternity... the aura of Eternity? Damn it, damn it, it isn't time yet! It clearly isn't time yet!"
Dis gazed toward that direction. Not long ago, he had journeyed there to settle the past concerning his children. Now, he intended to head there once more.
"Dis, what are you doing? Are you insane? The epoch hasn't ended, and you haven't become a god! Even if you were a god, blindly confident in you as this old partner of yours is, I'm not optimistic enough to think you could rival an epochal overlord!"
Dis spoke, "No tombstone was arranged to guard that place. Someone must fill the vacancy left behind."
…
Upon the cross, Tyrannus's will was directly dispatched. It was the most direct decreed order from the High Priest, for in this state, He required no written decrees or teleportation arrays; His voice echoed straight into the hearts of His subordinates:
"Sisa, release all seals on the Spear of Eternity and set it free."
"Kreide, cancel the awakening preparations for the First Knight Order. It is not yet time to mobilize them."
"Daan, no knight order may be deployed. Continue resting."
"Oracle, do not reassign tombstones from other sectors. Let them continue suppressing their respective rats."
"Karen."
Standing behind the wheelchair, Karen heard the High Priest's voice resonate in his heart.
"What is it?"
"Eternity has returned."
…
The heavy shackles were suddenly unlocked all at once. Michios stood up in utter daze. Then, he attempted to merge into the Spear of Eternity. With a sharp hum, it pierced cleanly through layers of natural chasms that he had previously believed insurmountable.
Before the God of Eternity, a rune emerged. The Spear of Eternity appeared in front of Him and was caught in His grip.
The god's expression stiffened slightly.
Not only had the elder party dropped all defenses and allowed Him to descend freely;
even the younger party had dropped all defenses, returning His divine artifact to Him.
The god closed His eyes.
…
"Can we win?"
Faced with his wife's question, Aisen held her hand, nodded firmly, and smiled gently. "The seniors will do their utmost. Even if they can't win, don't they still have us?"
Suddenly, the space around them froze in place.
A moment later, everything returned to normal, leaving Aisen and Kaixi completely unaware of what had transpired.
…
"What happened?" Seeing Old Hoffen flipping his pages with frantic rustling, Madame Tangli asked curiously.
She knew she could only watch from the sidelines; she was entirely ignorant of the true secrets at play.
Old Hoffen suddenly halted his movement. The pages lay splayed open, motionless—frozen by fear.
Dis's gaze hardened, and he appeared behind Madame Tangli.
The rules of stasis manifested. Dis's movements slowed to an extreme crawl, yet while others remained oblivious, he continued pressing against the flow.
Eternity: "Impudent."
Dis: "You are merely a strand of divine consciousness!"
Eternity: "Yet you have not become a god."
The Scythe of War manifested in Dis's hands, but before he could swing it down to sever the divine thought, everything returned to normal. The divine thought had departed.
Madame Tangli turned around, looking at Dis, who had appeared behind her at some unknown moment, and asked, "Dis, what's wrong?"
Dis frowned slightly.
Old Hoffen began flipping his pages once more. "He is choosing a vessel... choosing someone of the Alter bloodline. He wants to take the field."
…
Karen sensed a terrifying consciousness arrive beside him. Turning at once, he met its gaze.
That single glance felt as though it crossed infinite distance. The gaze seemed tangible, forcibly dragged from the sockets, yet Karen stood face to face with it, refusing to yield an inch.
"The most flawless vessel."
The divine consciousness offered its assessment.
Pity he was the inheritor of Order.
"Order will strip away everything from you and be reborn upon your flesh."
Karen: "That is what I desire."
The divine consciousness: "..."
"I will fling open this rotting cage and make this world lively once more."
"I can understand that."
"I can cause every arrangement made by Order to collapse entirely!"
Karen let out a long breath. For some reason, facing such a threat, he felt neither fear nor dread; instead, he felt like laughing.
"Can I finally play the tragic hero...?"
"Heh. A believer of Order... rather interesting."
"I simply feel that standing with the majority—no, standing with the side that has the most gods—is dreadfully dull."
"Why do you naively believe I would help you?"
"My history teacher once told me that Eternity dispelled ignorance and kindled the spark of civilization upon Mount Anraminde.
"The God of Light ignited that spark into a torch, and the God of Order held the torch high to illuminate this world.
"Eternity laid the foundation, Light consolidated it, and Order broke new ground.
"A share of the new epoch belongs to You.
"I imagine
"You must also want to see what kind of world this new realm we seek to reform will truly be."
…
"Huh, what happened to you?"
Buken suddenly found himself unable to sense Richard. Instinctively, he reached out to nudge him, but when Richard turned his head and their eyes met, Buken felt a chilling, terrifying pressure bear down upon him.
Buken staggered backward, yet he forced himself to stand firm, refusing to kneel before this overwhelming aura.
Inside Richard, Little Jerry was already curled into a corner, trembling violently.
Richard ignored Buken. Tilting his head back, his bare eyes pierced the obstruction, looking into the sky.
Upon the cross, Tyrannus lowered His head.
Alfred's soul consciousness was pushed out, returning to his easel. The hand holding the paintbrush trembled slightly. He knew what Tyrannus intended to do, and what followed would determine which side an epochal overlord would choose at this critical juncture.
*Boom!*
Tyrannus, who had remained stationary the entire time, tore Himself free from the cross, leaving behind a horrifying mass of flesh and blood.
His movement drew the attention of numerous deities locked in slaughter across the battlefield.
Yet Tyrannus paid no further heed to the shifts on the battlefield. Instead, He tethered Richard's soul consciousness, just as the seniors had done for the next generation of inheritors.
Only, while the seniors had been guiding newcomers, Tyrannus did the exact opposite.
He extended an invitation to Richard:
"I am not skilled in battle. Please guide me."
Chapter 939