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"Disappointing."
Edward knelt on one knee at the edge of the cliff for a long time before finally muttering unhappily, "I've read a lot of literature, but I still can't believe humans would sink so easily into a beautiful dream. Humans lose themselves in illusory worlds far too easily."
"That fits my understanding of humans, but not the impression the True Creator gave me. In that case, there's only one answer. It wasn't this dream that threw the True Creator into confusion. He had already been all but defeated before this, and that was why this dream came to be."
"That isn't an illusion woven by God Almighty... it's his own dream!"
If the Apocalypse was his ultimate goal, was he destined to lose his way once it ended? With his goal gone and his long-cherished wish fulfilled, would he begin to think of "struggling no longer, willingly" letting himself become God Almighty?
"That's just stupid." Edward sighed. "Like a story with a botched ending. The first ninety-nine percent earnestly celebrated love, sacrifice, and humanity, only for the last ten chapters to create a world where humans were raised like livestock. Then, at the very end, he suddenly abandoned all his preparations to go and die."
"What's worth appreciating about a world like that? We already have a lead on the Sefirah anyway. Let's just leave him alone."
The Lord of Withering, who was watching this farce with keen interest from the Starry Sky, asked curiously:
"Really leave him alone?"
"God Almighty said himself that he's the only one, and that he doesn't need other personalities to create new directions, so I don't want to bother anymore," the God of Decay said. "Besides, I'll definitely establish contact with the Sefirah on the Western Continent within eighteen years. I don't