Chapter 1226 - 530: Even the Smallest Prayer

The highland, which had become tattered in the war, was now completely engulfed in pitch-black flames.

The magic statue Phoenix composed of volcanic magma and ash was unknowingly brushed by the night, vanishing into the lightless backdrop.

Its outline merged into the darkness, like a colossal shadow devoured by the Abyss, with only the fierce white glow at its heart still dazzlingly bright—like an indestructible star, proudly hung over this ruined world without a heaven and earth.

The Hero who accepted his own "possibility of defeat" and transformed into a pure white Phoenix calmly lowered his eyelids.

The only brilliance in the world was so dazzling that even the Angel King below, with wings raised high, was robbed of its presence, submerged in the released white light.

Black was brushed by black, and pure white was covered by pure white.

Between black and white, no distinction remained, and the concept of color ceased to exist—the last remnant left was void.

All matter transformed into energy under the flames, and all energy was completely released, plunging the world into silence, where even light ceased to shine.

It was a deathly silence beyond sound and color, where "existence" itself no longer existed.

The Hero, slowly closing his eyes, emptied his mind in the neither-black-nor-white void, waiting with no thoughts or desires.

Then, a sound began.

Initially faint, then bright, finally becoming deafening.

It was applause, cheers.

In this emptiness where all things have disappeared, it was as if ten thousand people were shouting in unison, expanding, stacking, turning into a tide of fervor, shaking the maiden's core.

Each voice represented different souls and lives, but now it contained an almost unified emotion—

Admiration for her, support for her, love for her, dreams for her...

The Saintess who shines upon the world, saving the world.

Countless worlds like stars thus celebrate her name, singing her legend.

——This is inevitable destiny.

Only when the applause voices, strong enough to resonate with the souls, slowly calmed down did the Hero finally gently open his eyes.

Before him, lay a wasteland.

A realm composed of remnants of countless destroyed worlds that had fallen: the Wreckage Tomb.

Originally, there was no Vitality here, no Hope, only the survivors left from those shattered planes struggling inevitably before the end, clinging to life, yet in vain.

In some sense, those who had already died might have been happier, as they did not have to endure prolonged suffering.

They were like those who still have a breath left but had been placed in a coffin, buried underground, dying even if they struggled despairingly to the end.

But in this pilgrimage where futures could not be seen throughout endless years, a ray of Moonlight fell one day, illuminating their path.

The scene appearing before the Hero remained a broken landscape.

Buildings left only frameworks, scorched earth underfoot, debris piled high as mountains.

Yet, among the hills formed by the remnants of different worlds, tenacious weeds poked their heads out.

The serene moonlight shone through cracks into the building's interior, illuminating a fragile yet pure white small flower. Dew still clung to its petals, reflecting a faint silver glow under the moonlight, quietly blooming between the bricks.

In the space that could barely be recognized as cleaned, there stood a wooden statue, albeit roughly hewn, its general form still discernible.

Two maidens held hands, gazing downwards, seemingly casting an infinitely loving glance at the world.

The statue's lines were not smooth, and the facial contours were slightly blurred, but the sculptor's painstaking effort was evident.

The statue's existence declared the world's resurgence.

Pure Land of Moonlight, Holy Sanctuary of the Goddess.

The Saintess from the Otherworld brought a ray of dawn in the endless darkness for the survivors of the Wreckage Tomb.

Though realistically, this place is merely a narrow refuge, claiming she saved this world might be overstated, all residents of the Wreckage Tomb, as well as the audience watching the performance, could unanimously nod affirmatively on a simple fact—

This is Redemption.

Not self-deceiving comfort, not hospice care breeding, not extinction under the guise of evolution...

She gave those struggling in the hopeless world a chance to continue forward, paving the way for their future.

"...It was just a coincidence, doing something within my capabilities."

Looking at the offerings placed under the Goddess Statue that seemed unassuming but were undoubtedly precious to this world's people—a few carefully polished fruit seeds, a wreath mostly woven from weeds, a murky-colored malt candy—the maiden smiled gently.

"But the feeling of being remembered is not bad."

In the last moment before departure, the Hero told the people of this world his name.

And they surely remembered it well, even praying day and night before the statue, considering themselves Holy Servants, chanting the divine name.

As a result of this devout belief, although it was only for a short time of less than a few minutes, without the aid of large ritual sites like performance stages, purely relying on his own strength, the Hero's Will followed the current of destiny, transformed into a projection of faith, crossed Thousands of Stars and Worlds, and descended again into the Wreckage Tomb.

Though it was just a coincidence, the result of various factors overlapping, it was undoubtedly a feat worthy of wide-eyed awe from the Traveling Mages.

[Is anyone coming?]

D10=1

Yet, there was no one to witness this great achievement on site.

Despite gaining a piece of Pure Land, from the meager offerings viewed through the eyes of the Kingdom people, it is clear that the residents of the Wreckage Tomb still live harsh lives, and not many can afford to pray daily.

And the prayer site before the Hero was probably just a place independently established by a solitary resident—only a stack of several layers of ragged cloth formed into a cushion was placed below.

Thus, until the silhouette of the girl's projection gradually faded, no one stepped into this desolate world.

However, the girl did not feel pity, nor did she intend to leave anything behind. She simply smiled, gazing through the window of the ruined building at the smoke rising in the distance.

Though she had no chance to tell the people of this world, she wasn't a God, just an ordinary girl born in another world, she ultimately was nothing but a traveler.

No matter how much help she offered, the final path must be walked by themselves.

Saving the world, but neither guiding nor seeking.

Not because she was irresponsible, nor because she was without desire. It was simply because she had already gained enough in her own world that she was no longer reluctant to share, nor did she demand return.

Unknown to anyone was the return of the Goddess, and the girl's figure quietly vanished amid the ruins with no sound.

"...So, can you understand now?"

Then, the flower sea bloomed before her eyes.

The thunderous cheers and dazzling stage lights had disappeared, and the scene once again shifted.

Before her was an endless sea of Crystal Flowers, each petal crystal clear, reflecting the golden sunlight of dusk. Rendering the surroundings dreamy and fantastical, and even the air was tinted with an amber golden hue.

The Hero slightly bowed her head and spoke calmly.

"Whether it's saving the world or guiding Humankind. Neither need me..."

She gazed at the haggard figure kneeling on the opposite side, softly pronouncing judgment.

"—nor you."

The Angel King, unable to save anything and merely obsessing over guidance, knelt on one knee, his spine slightly hunched, his head drooped, and his four wings helplessly hung by his side.

The wings that once blocked out the sky were now filled with cracks and scorch marks, three of the White Wings were tarnished, and the sole Black Wing was torn asunder.

Anyone could see this was the result of a crushing defeat.

On the predetermined stage of destiny, outside the boundless worlds beyond countless stars, He continually reached out, ceaselessly calling, trying to insert His existence into any world with a Saintess's figure.

All attempts, however, failed.

This was not because he was too weak.

This was not because He was too weak. In fact, with divine magic endowed by the Limit Breaking Curse, if He wished to abandon this world and venture to otherworld, saving one or two dying realms would be trivial.

Yet this did not mean He could alter the Hero's destiny.

The Four-winged King was originally driven out of the world by the Divine Knowledge Saintess, so His influence on this world was exceedingly weak.

But He did not think to escape the Saintess's blockade and go to other worlds, instead obstinately took advantage of this opportunity to attempt intervention through the Hero's destiny line.

However, the Wreckage Tomb had already received hope from the Moonlight Goddess, and there was nothing in this redemption that He could criticize.

On the stage of Ten Thousand Worlds, the girl's name belonged solely to her, leaving no room for His intervention.

If it were another setting like the initial encounter with the Snow Woman, He might have had some chance, but on the supreme stage where the Hero becomes the Saintess, even the Great Demon wielding the Limit Breaking Curse could only temporarily retreat.

Yet, facing this destined and complete fate, self-proclaimed as wise, He not only refused to pause but intensified His efforts, invested divine magic, trying to exert His influence.

However, as He was like a rootless floating entity, no matter how desperately He acted, it was akin to operating within a black box without sound or motion, unable to stir even a little, producing no impact, only bringing backlash upon Himself.

And the final result was falling into the current state of complete overload and powerlessness, kneeling on the ground, nothing but self-inflicted.

The Hero looked down upon the Four-winged King before her, viewing the ancient adversary from time immemorial, reduced to such a condition, her feelings were complex.

But the Hero knew too well that engaging with Him was meaningless. After speaking, she awaited no response from Him, merely shook her head before extending her hand, firmly clenching it into a fist.

[Hero Skill Activation: Dream Realm Time Boundary]

She expanded her Soul Realm into a world of the mind, enveloping the opponent, and imposed Special Effect.

[D41. Admonishment—Does the Hero Reincarnate into Martial Monk? (3-Magician, =1 Angel Awakening)]

D10=9

[Bishop You (Four-winged King) Reflecting? (9+Yes, if not, impose Commandments effect)]

D10=2