Enemy of God

Crack! The sound of shattering rang out. Just as he caught the small red orb, before a smile could even form on his lips, a pitch-black spear burst through his chest! Right behind Ji Jue, Wen Wen's exhausted figure suddenly dissolved into shimmering phantasmal light. A fake! The true killing strike had already been launched the very instant the Shadow of the Holy God manifested—back when Ji Jue took the initiative to pull Wen Wen behind him, an illusion had already enveloped her along with the circulation of his spiritus. Since he had treated the Holy God as his hypothetical enemy, having a contingency plan was inevitable. Prepared artificers were like this: a countermeasure might go unused, but one could never be without it, and one always had to have backups for the backups. And after relentless pressure and gaslighting, the overwhelmed old codger of Strange Tales had finally been squeezed for real goods by Ji Jue—a deceptive camouflage crafted by combining the urban legends of the "Imaginary Friend" and the "Doppelgänger." Its function was simple: leave all presence and spiritus fluctuations behind in place while temporarily shifting between virtual and real, turning oneself into a friend that existed only in the imagination, undetectable by anyone else. As long as one did not initiate an attack, and as long as the self left behind remained, the Doppelgänger state could be sustained. And while the Shadow of the Holy God's attention was entirely diverted by the small red orb, and all observations of the colossal eye fell upon Ji Jue, Wen Wen had already slipped behind him, taking her time to find the optimal angle to strike. Then, without hesitation— A backstab! *Now it's your turn, you bastard!* The spear tip, stripped of its golden lacquer, was completely pitch-black. The spiritus poison Ji Jue crafted specifically to target the convergence of faith and self-nature violently flared, completely freezing the movements of the Shadow of the Holy God. Likewise, it caused a ghastly crack to split across the colossal eye blocking the way before Limbo's third layer. Meanwhile, Ji Jue had already arrived before him. "Like I said, you dropped something." Bending down, Ji Jue reshaped the small red orb once more from the flying ashes on the ground, picked it up, and placed it upon his face, admiring it with praise: "Look, isn't that much more complete?" The Shadow of the Holy God remained silent. Shattering sounds rang out as the division began, fissure after fissure spreading across his face. His expression twitched, finally revealing a sliver of fury. A dying counterattack made without hesitation. Using himself as a fuse to trigger the lockdown and completely detonate Limbo! Unfortunately, suppressed by Ji Jue's anticipation, even a self-destructive blow couldn't take effect. What was more, before that could happen, that very face was completely smashed to pieces by a fist charged with immense power! Whether it was death-throes, a self-destructive reprisal, mutual destruction, or any other tactic, before that palm seemingly carved from crystal, it was ground utterly into dust. Only countless fragments drifted upward... A clash head-on between Desolate Ruins and Ascension, ending in yet another shattering of Ascension. Wen Wen. No, was that really Wen Wen, or something else? In that fleeting daze, Ji Jue caught sight of the faint phantom emerging behind her—the reflection of the soul's essence cast within the dreamscape. It was as though infinite ash rose into the air. Flames raged, the earth split, mountains shook, and all things converged toward destruction—a cruel silhouette faintly outlined from the overlapping wreckage of a disintegrating world. When Wen Wen opened her eyes once more, the last lingering trace of drunkenness had vanished from her gaze. Innumerable cruel, razor-sharp crystal glints converged, piercing through her pupils to reflect all illusory dreams and bubbles. Amid the phantasmal lights of despair, resentment, hatred, and madness, those eyes held neither warmth nor color, dispassionately mirroring every facet of falsehood. It was as if she were gazing upon everything doomed to end in ruin. No familiar spark or warmth remained. Following that fleeting glimpse back at Mercy Hospital, Ji Jue saw that look in her eyes once again. Yet very quickly, all the illusions vanished, as though they had never existed. "What is it?" Noticing Ji Jue's gaze, the corner of her lips quirked slightly into a familiar teasing smile. "You little brat, you're not into little girls, are you? If you are, I'll have to beat that out of you." Ji Jue pinched his chin, pondering for a moment, and suddenly asked, "If I were into little girls, are you sure that wouldn't just be rewarding me?" Wen Wen's eyelid twitched. For a moment, she really wanted to smash this bastard's dog head in, but worried she might actually end up rewarding him. A glare. An elbow strike! And so, dodging and coughing in mock pain, Ji Jue laughed. He pretended not to notice the crystallized hand she kept half-hidden behind her back, out of sight. At the very least, this light irritation felt so alive. *Sister Wen, are you hiding anything from me?* If he asked that, she would probably say: *No, what weird thoughts are in that head of yours now?* Right after, there was roughly a one-third chance she would tease him with *Do you want my measurements too?*; a one-third chance she would roll her eyes and lament how a perfectly fine person had been ruined by becoming an artificer; and a one-third chance she would change the subject or turn the tables, demanding to know what shady schemes he was hiding from her. The chance of her telling the truth was less than one percent. Or one in ten thousand. So he didn't ask. In any case, asking or not wouldn't change his plans or intentions. "Then let's get ready to begin." Stepping forward, he rolled up his sleeves. Even though a single thought was enough to reshape them at will, he still unfastened the cufflinks as always, carefully rolling up the loose cuffs. Each fold was two knuckles wide, turned upward three times in total, resting just beneath his elbows. Neither too tight nor too loose, that subtle pressure had long been etched into his bones, intimately familiar. During that brief process, all stray thoughts were completely discarded. Rapt, wholly focused. Looking down at the endless sea of chaos and brilliant phantasmal light below, Ji Jue reached out his hand— In that instant, Limbo roared! The third layer burst open. The second layer crashed into ruin. The first layer shook to its foundations. Amid magnificent rumbles and rolling, tsunami-like echoes, gravity seemed to vanish from the entire world for a split second. Flames no longer burned, and frost lost its biting chill. Rocks grew soft as sludge, and the earth squirmed like a living creature. Sinners, heretics, weeping believers kneeling on the ground, and even the surviving angels floated into the air, watching everything crumble and collapse. Dumbfounded. Utterly unable to comprehend what was happening. All they saw was an ocean of phantasmal light rising from Limbo's deepest depths, breaking through the final restraint, and erupting outward. Like an inexhaustible torrent, it surged toward the divine kingdom of the Pure Land. Wherever those beams of phantasmal light traveled, they traced splendid, brilliant trajectories like countless streamers. Since its creation, never had such a magnificent celestial phenomenon occurred in the entire dreamscape. When the final lock was unfastened, the chaos intrinsic to dreams surged like an ocean toward every realm enveloped in bubbles. Unleashing boundless anomalies and transformations. Under the scouring of this wild tide, the once-stable world shook again and again, as unprecedented earthquakes, torrential downpours, and violent winds raged across the lands. And this was merely the beginning— Yet within Limbo, that cataclysmic upheaval came to an abrupt halt. Immediately following, an invisible hand seized control of everything once more. Encompassing all phenomena, remaking everything! Volcanoes, barren wastes, cages, fortresses, shackles, scaffolds—all those dark and hideous things vanished entirely. Taking their place was the gleam of steel, colder and sterner by far! Countless massive machines rose and fell like mountain ranges, assembling together. Vast quantities of spiritus surged like rivers, and spiritus circuits sprouted and spread like vegetation. The shapes and transformations of all phenomena seemed governed by a single thought. At his whim— At the Gate of Limbo, the old codger who had been slacking off the entire time opened his eyes. Looking at the myriad changes sweeping across Limbo and gauging their scale, he couldn't help but click his tongue. This volume of manipulation and precision... isn't it just absurd?! Abruptly, a city of steel rose from the ground within Limbo. Even if many details remained unfinished, the sheer terrifying scale of alteration and level of control alone would leave countless artificers stunned and ashamed. Utterly out of reach... And amid the magnificent din of heaven and earth remade, a familiar voice rang in everyone's ears, reaching every corner. So calm, it effortlessly dispelled all hesitation and unease, snuffing out the budding fear. "Everyone—" At the pinnacle of Limbo, a brilliant radiance akin to a falling morning star blazed to life. A peaceful voice echoed from the deepest darkness, telling them: "Perhaps God truly needs Hell. "Without Hell, there is nothing to set off the beauty of Heaven. Without suffering, no one would revere the majesty of the Order. "And for this very reason, God is afraid. "Yet what God fears is not the fall of Heaven, but having Hell snatched from his grasp! "When Heaven falls, it can still be rebuilt. When the mortal realm goes astray, it can still be destroyed. But having lost Hell, where else could one find such vast negative karma? "How could he continue to stand so high and mighty?" Those resolute words rang across all of Limbo, and following the surging sea of chaos, they even echoed through the so-called Pure Land of God's kingdom. They echoed before every bewildered or stunned face, undispellable and unyielding, no matter how deafening or dense the thunder from Tiancheng became. A question posed to everyone: "Even so, does Hell deserve to exist?" In the dead silence, none answered. Amid the roar of collapsing mountains and rolling thunder, only derisive laughter reverberated through the world. Limbo rumbled with a deafening boom. The last vestige of its former outline shattered completely, replaced by a brand-new form. That colossal silhouette cast its projection across the Pure Land, slowly rising into the firmament like a scarlet star. Once again, it illuminated everything in turmoil! "If humanity does not need Hell, then we shall break the shackles here and attain true liberation! "If humanity *does* need Hell, then we ought to be the true gods!" Ji Jue spread his hands wide, proclaiming to all the heretics and sinners looking up, to all of existence: "So, my friends, what else do we have to lose except Hell itself? "Hell has fallen from God's hands, and we shall crown ourselves kings! "Worry no longer about the future—the deeds of tomorrow are far too distant. Dwell no longer on the past—the sins of yesterday have long since been redeemed. "Feel only the hatred and anger of this present moment! "This flame burns right in your hearts, right in your hands!" Laughter like a living nightmare rose from the deepest abyss of Hell, sweeping past the mortal world, ascending into the skies, casting even Tiancheng in shadow, falling upon every dazed, bewildered face. "—One day, we shall cross the long road of nine days and nine nights to once again make God our enemy, to wage war against it all, and bring Hell's flame—*your* flame—all the way to Heaven!" The wild laughter and proclamation echoed endlessly, refusing to fade, piercing through every interval between claps of thunder, never to be extinguished. And within Limbo, after a brief silence, countless crimson eyes lit up with radiant fervor. Fanatical shouts, ecstatic roars, reverent praises. In the end, those voices gradually converged and overlapped, indelible and inexhaustible, turning into an eternal echo inscribed within the steel of Limbo: "Enemy of God! Enemy of God!! ENEMY OF GOD!!!"