The Undead had indeed done a very good thing.
The moment the Hags' prayers ceased, Black Eye's body, which had almost solidified into form, began to fade away bit by bit once more.
These Hags, born from the depths of the River Styx, naturally possessed powerful souls. Once they reached level twelve or above, they could even contend with Transcendent Mages in mental strength.
So although their numbers were not that great... on Toril, it was truly enough to support a god-ascension ritual, and the support they provided Black Eye had been extremely strong.
Thus, their failure had effectively determined Black Eye's fate.
Edna smiled happily. "Ah... it seems we won the battle outside!"
Midnight glanced at her. "Then can we turn her back into scrap?"
The corner of Edna's mouth twitched. "Considering that we might need her soul fragments to patch things up someday, please call her residue.
Calling her trash could easily hurt us by accident."
"Is that our greatest difference?" Midnight's long eyelashes trembled softly. "I... truly don't want this impure divine soul."
Black Eye, who had been suffering miserably under the attacks of these two incarnations of past and future as they chatted, suddenly sneered. "Fools!"
Then she completely gave up struggling and allowed herself to dissolve into specks of light, leaving behind only one icy sentence. "The future is still long! Don't let me catch another opportunity!"
Midnight watched the blue light filling the sky and broke into a brilliant smile. "Eh? Does she still expect anyone to pray to her in the future?
A hundred years from now, who will even know who she is?
Right, Edna?"
Edna hesitated for a while before slowly saying, "You still intend to make all of Mystra's past lives your achievements?"
"Achievements?" Midnight savored the word, a strange