Chapter 80

As Avia murmured, the dark clouds above his head overlapped one another, as if countless mirrors were combined. Then, this powerful illusion, which had deceived the world itself, was broken, and the sky above began to fall as if a mirror had shattered.

When he came to his senses, Avia, who had been freed from the illusion that had started at some unknown time, felt as if he had just woken from a long dream. When he opened his eyes, he realized that he was actually still outside of Rome. He could now sense that both Typhon and Meli were trapped in this strange illusion and had not yet woken up.

And all around were people and Phantasmal Species, all frozen in place with blank expressions, and the real sky was—

It was impossible to tell whether it was day or night. Only a faint afterglow illuminated the shattered sky. More so, there was the scorching red and thick smoke rising from the earth. No rain fell from the gathering dark clouds. Only burning ashes and dust rose from the ground.

"... I thought I could be of help to you."

Avia was startled when she realized that it was Altrouge Brunestud's call that had awakened her, and she winked at her.

"I thought I could at least help you in some way. But now that this situation has happened, I'm helpless. I can't think of anything I should do... I'm sorry, the more I talk, the more it sounds like a pathetic and dejected statement."

"No... this is normal. Everyone has moments of helplessness. But I will Protection you, don't worry."

Avia stared intently into her bloodshot eyes, those slightly fragile and trembling eyes.

If he thinks it's nothing, then it's fine. But there's one thing I absolutely need to let him know about right now.

That was what she was thinking, and at that moment, she revealed her feelings slightly.

"... I love you. I want you to live forever. I want to see things we've never seen before with you, and I want to see the smile on your face as you look at them. I want to share my feelings with you, through thick and thin. If possible—I hope it can always be like this."

As she finished speaking, the Black-Haired Girl caressed his neck with both hands, then stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.

Avia did not refuse; instead, as if touching a fragile object, she wrapped her arms around Avia's shoulders and waist, gently embracing her.

The silver-haired youth thought the taste of tears came from the girl's tightly bitten lips, which tasted faintly of blood.

He thought, "It's the taste of tears shed only in front of me, and never in front of anyone else."

And so, as if wiping away tears, he kissed her again.

It is said that once the True Ancestor drinks blood, he becomes addicted, falls into an inescapable state of depravity, and ultimately dies.

But this kiss, a symbol of vows, did not evoke such thoughts in Altrouge Brunestud; she felt only overwhelming joy.

A certain concept was evoked in the desolate land by a kiss from a dark-skinned princess.

"You cannot die. I have drunk your blood, and you have drunk mine. It is an eternal pact. As long as you have a breath left, you must continue to live until your last breath—you must come back."

Until death do us part?

Altrouge Brunestud didn't actually want this kind of happiness with a time limit; she thought that even death couldn't separate them.

Therefore, I will definitely wait for you to come back and will never leave you.

Such a wish cannot be guaranteed to be fulfilled by either the Dead Apostle or humans unless a miracle occurs, after all, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the two sides are natural enemies in a physiological sense.

So you must come back to me.

Whatever difficulties await you afterward, you must escape death.

You must come back safely.

"I will."

Since both parties demanded and promised to fulfill the agreement, it became a vow.

And so he continued forward.

As we passed through the campsite, we saw a warm campfire.

"No wonder Zeus and his cronies took a liking to him."

A weathered voice rang in Avia's ears. Beside the young man, in the pitch-black world, the only campfire burned brightly, and there stood Odin, the Norse god whom Avia had met once before.

"By the way, how long have I been under this illusion?"

From a human perspective, only thirty minutes have passed in the world.

Odin said seemingly casually,

"I never imagined that the final crisis wouldn't be the Giant God and Typhon, but a human. That guy's power has now completely blocked any possibility of the Planet reaching its inner side. If this continues, the Planet may face its end... Although this is a matter between you humans, since I am the only manifest Deity right now, let me handle it. You just wait."

"Odin... you?" Avia looked at Odin, whose hand was empty, and said, "But you can't be your true form right now. If you have to say, you're just a spirit. Alright, you old folks should go back and rest. Don't force yourselves here. I'll go."

"Avia, you should understand," Odin sighed, "That's not a place for you... Everyone must eventually return to the mortal world. I do this only because I don't want you to die; I want you all to live."

"I'm not dead yet."

Do you think you can win?

Then, as Odin raised his face and looked into the Krishna with his remaining single eye, a deafening Deafening Crash erupted from the darkness.

The darkness flickered and thinned rapidly, but from the deepest darkness, a sneer rang out.

"Leave it to me, Odin, just as you left it to the Giant God and Typhon before."

Avia grabbed Odin by the shoulder as he tried to leave.

"You're quite confident. Do you think you're unique?"

"No, it's not that there's no one else who can solve this situation besides myself; it's just that I feel I have to do it."

"... To be honest, I'm quite curious about how you gained favor with the Greece; it's not easy for those guys to be so united."

Odin looked at him, his expression complex.

"Because—" Avia paused, her expression softening, as if she were remembering something, "Rome."

"However, you are now on the path to destroying Rome."

"There's nothing we can do about it."

"Aren't you afraid that I'm also an illusionist?"

Odin asked.

"Whether it's true or not doesn't matter, but I said such cool things, it wouldn't be good if it were fake."

The silver-haired youth shook his head and answered without hesitation:

"That's what I'm planning to do anyway."

As he spoke, he couldn't help but laugh, a laugh that was so delightful.

Looking at his smile, looking at the man whose whole being was filled with a fire of determination.

Odin paused for a moment, then laughed.

"Since that's the case, then I'll trust you. This is the final test. Overcome it, and you will be rewarded. But I'll give you that reward now."

Avia stood up, stretched her fingers, clenched them into a fist, and nodded.

"Thanks, Odin."

Looking into the young man's unchanging, clear blue eyes, Odin couldn't help but reach out and, finally, pat him on the shoulder.

Overflowing with praise and encouragement, he told him:

"Keep it up! I finally convinced the Crowd to let me get this, so please don't die... Will I be able to come to the Heroic Spirit Hall in the future?"

"I will."

Avia calmly raised her head and smiled freely.

Then, he walked toward the battlefield that was drawing ever closer in the distance, the Eternal City shrouded in endless smoke and flames.

Above Avia, a storm suddenly arose, and Gale swept in.

Streaks of Thunderbolt swept across the clouds, striking down with soul-shaking thunder, accompanied by deafening roars.

And so, the glory of the Norse totalitarian Authority manifested itself in the darkness, in smiles, in anticipation, in blessings, above that person who would never look back.

At that moment, endless Thunderbolt and dark clouds swirled around Avia, contracting inward to transform into a majestic crown.

At the same moment, along with this power, Typhon, who was originally under the illusion, also broke free and awoke once more.

Now, in the dim world, only Thunderbolt seemed to echo, as if the darkness itself had been swallowed up. A vast torrent of fire and ice swirled above the Thunderbolt, transforming into countless crowns through the branches of the World Tree Yggdrasil, which had already vanished, and shrouded his head, casting a cold and tyrannical light as his will moved.

And so, the crimson Sun and the cool moon reappeared.

From his eyes, from the power of fire and ice.

Germania Norse mythology, which shared Europe with the Greece - Rome pantheon, reached its End Times around Age of Gods AD. Its pantheon echoed into the sealed-off world, showcasing the glory of this mythology to the world trapped in illusion.

This is the tragedy and karma that cycle endlessly within the wild and primal forces, born from the harsh environment of the snow-covered Northern Lands, a grand myth, a manifestation of all Authority, End Times in the destruction of everything.

Even with Ragnarök, the End Times, this is not at all incongruous, for it is a natural change that belongs to the land of the Norse.

One generation passes away, another comes, but the Protection endures forever.

162: In the boundless radiance, the only dark road (6k)

The Eternal City, Rome, roars.

This is a literal description: a large number of people roared in Wrath in Rome, charging recklessly at the Huns had brought bloodshed to the Divinity land. They would have done the same even without this illusion that deceived the world.

Kill him!

"He's Demon!"

Countless hideous and vicious faces said this.

Therefore, all the chaotic voices were drowned out by the earth-shattering Thunderbolt, truly earth-shattering.

Ice and fire appeared in the dark sky, and with the arrival of lightning, Gale swept in.

As one corpse after another fell to the ground, countless eyes seemed to still hold lingering resentment and malice.

"We can stop now."

The silver-haired youth looked up, ignoring the Sea of Blood beneath his feet, and spoke softly to the countless twisted souls surrounding him.

"If we trace back to the sinners of the past, the list is endless. Sin is of many kinds: deceiving others, framing others, Jealousy others, taking lives. These are all evils that only humans can bear."

No one responded. As the young man took a step forward, a brilliant, fiery light rose from the Rome sky, so dazzling it was almost blinding.

Everyone has that animalistic instinct within them, whether they believe it or not; it's the same for everyone.

For their own benefit, they will not hesitate to trample on others, and will not hesitate to despise those they consider to be of lower status. They will not tarnish their own hands, but only hurt the hearts of those connected to them. What they gain from this is a little vanity and self-satisfaction.

It seems as if countless people exist solely for this insignificant reward.

Small amounts of hatred will naturally arise, but they will not lead to murder, because the consequences of this hatred are not worth killing. Therefore, they can continue to live Sloth.

There are very few truly evil people in the world; they are simply people who follow their instincts and take their lives for granted.

Moreover, from a global perspective, no matter what happens in the future, the Future of the world will not be changed by the life or death of a few insignificant people.

If such people live on, the people associated with them will continue to suffer some harm, but if they die, that will be the end of it.

Knowing full well what was going on but allowing it to worsen until it was too late, whose responsibility is that? Of course, no one is responsible.

But does that alone mean we should stand by and watch someone die?

"It's ready."

He said softly.

"Who can say they've never fallen? So, leave everything to me now; everything you have belongs only to yourselves."

The roaring people of the Holy City fell silent, but instinctively, tears streamed down their faces as they wept aloud.

"I've said it before, we are all the same," he said. "You should have returned to the human world in human form—"

Behind him, in the deepest part of the many Authority, the branches of the World Tree droop down, washing away those wandering, fallen spirits, dissolving them all in the compassionate darkness, leaving only pure light, washing away the pollution and returning them to their original state.

"So, let me kill you all."

The Demonic Sword: True World swept across the Rome, spreading inch by inch, bringing both endless bloodshed and the light of redemption.

In the now-dark Eternal City, the smiling marble Holy Statue gleamed with a faint silvery light under the illumination.

Avia gazed at the Papal Palace ahead, then walked towards it.

"So beautiful."

"Yes."

The man nodded and continued to Typhon:

"After all, this is a collection of human spirits, so there's a lot of beauty in it. You can go and see more of it in the future."