Funeral Knell

"This power... it truly was frightening."

Atop the Grand Cathedral's spire, Maine hugged her shoulders and could not stop herself from shivering. Though goosebumps had risen all over her body, she still licked her parched red lips.

"This was the might of The Deity—or rather... the power of Chaos," said the mouth of the figure in the mirror, opening and closing.

Maine staggered to the window and leaned half her body outside. After that single strike, the High Tower had been completely exposed to view. It no longer flickered in and out of sight as before, but stood solidly amid the woods. The surrounding land had been blasted into an enormous crater, and as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but scorched earth.

Yet this was not the end. That strike had merely made the sphere slightly more transparent. Judging from its gesture, a second round of attacks was already brewing.

"Will we one day possess such powerful strength as well?" Maine's eyes brimmed with longing.

"Hard to say..." The mirror's voice came in broken fragments, as though it too had been affected by the celestial phenomenon. "But you should understand that such power is dangerous and uncontrollable. It can be used... but it should not be coveted."

That was right. The Mage Tower had its own way of exploring the world, rather than placing its hopes in The Deity.

Nurturing an ever more powerful aggregate of Chaos was an act of courting death.

"Only a little over a century, and it had already become such a monster." Maine tilted her head toward the divine shadow that blotted out the sky, unable to keep herself from sighing.

"But only such a monster can help us fulfill our wish..." The figure in the mirror curled its lips into