Amid the divine light gathered from countless believers, Lynn finally sat upon his supreme Throne once again. The instant he ascended it, the fuel within him, almost burned to nothing, was replenished once more by faith power from the entire Main Universe.
That surging flicker of blackfire burned within his chest like a beacon in the deep sea.
"Leave."
"Please wait until the next war begins to wake me. I will remain here, protecting you... for eternity..."
His voice grew quieter, and his consciousness gradually sank into oblivion once more.
At last, his figure was enveloped by the vast divine light, hiding the face above that lofty Throne. It was like some immense fate. Perhaps this, too, was the destiny of a king: once you ascended to that position, you had to shoulder the duty that you alone could bear.
The gates of the Sanctuary rumbled shut once again.
Sir Awen and the Self-Binding Angel stood before the gates of the Royal Court for a long time. Above their heads, faith power from the entire Main Universe streamed endlessly toward this place, like an enormous vortex spanning the sky.
They had won.
Yet, for some reason, she still felt wave after wave of suffocating heaviness. Suddenly, she crouched down and covered her face, crystalline drops falling through her fingers to the ground.
As though she were crying for Lynn.
And for this absurd apocalypse and fate.
Because how much longer would it last?
What price would they still have to pay before the heavy darkness hanging overhead finally receded?
"Matriarch, don't cry."
Sir Awen raised his head and gazed at the banners flying high over Dark Night City.
"We still have so much to do, and we will win. I, you, all of us-we will see that future. We have