"The 18,642nd ' Strife ' Core Flame fell into the fire..."
Khaslana's monologue echoed once more in the void, "But the shadow of the Black Tide still looms, and pain and despair pervade the distant lands..."
The flames are still lacking. We must... encourage them to grow stronger.
Even if... this body has to be burned to ashes...
The " Eternity " audience seats are 31,546,904 Eternal Recurrence away from the world's Destruction. The scene has reached the 2,003,432nd Eternal Recurrence.
Khaslana arrived at Styxia, the " Ancient City of Dragonbone." Inside the tower, Castorice stood there, as if waiting for his arrival.
Even the brightest sun has places it cannot reach.
"Besides, the blazing sun you bear on your shoulders is both cold and blinding..."
Castorice slowly said, "Such a sun... I'm afraid it cannot warm the Underworld of the next life."
Having gone through so many cycles, Khaslana almost numb to the point of losing his ability to speak:
"Golden blood... originates from ' Destruction '. We have long since lost... the right to crave warmth."
"Only by... fanning the flames can... melt away... that hopeless future."
Xing stood in front of the screen, watching helplessly as Khaslana went through one cycle after another, a deep sense of despair engulfing her.
The familiar subtitles appeared once again: Do you still remember her, Khaslana, who never saw the dawn?
Castorice, all sighs flow from her fingertips; all words of comfort are blocked by her hands; all death is embraced by her; all weeping is swallowed by her palms.
Tell me, if Kephale never forgets: how many wings have you shattered for her, how many flowers have you extinguished, how many butterflies have you chased into ashes?
The fragrant moonlight flowed into the River of Souls; how did you brew it into golden poison, to serve as a libation for your futile feast of World-Saving?
You, the " Savior " in sheep's clothing, are the one who should be sacrificed to the gods!
The ugly beast, its hypocritical face cannot conceal the raging fire of poison; its spear-like horns are born to kill even its own kind.
They'll treat the bones as a delicious meal, and the sweetness will convince you. "After all, I know nothing about the butcher's knife."
"Please allow me to ask: how many Core Flame of fire do you currently possess?" Castorice asked.
Khaslana answered haltingly, "Twenty-four million and forty thousand...—one thousand one hundred... eighty-three."
"... This is so heavy."
"It's alright... I will bear it." Khaslana shook his head and extended his hand to Castorice: "Just... hand over the Core Flame of 'death'."
Even knowing that battle is inevitable, Khaslana will still ask the other party a question first.
A sigh escaped from Castorice's lips, "Allow me to refuse. As a demigod of 'death'... I cannot bear to watch you walk down a path more cruel than 'death' itself."
"As long as this is done, the past, the present, and the future..."
"Then there will never be... any more unnecessary deaths."
"Unnecessary deaths..."
After a moment of Castorice, Xiaodie thought of Khaslana's statement about superfluous death... which meant that death in the present moment was justified.
In her eyes, the idealistic " Savior " was far removed from this concept.
As expected, you are not the Lord Phainon I know.
"Turn back now, lest you bring your absurd and unjust fate to fruition. That way, at least my Underworld... can still be your fragrant bed."
"Finally, it still happened..."
Khaslana his gaze turned fierce. "It seems that avoiding swords and spears is truly a pipe dream."
Castorice also looked troubled, "... It's truly heartbreaking."
"I know I am no match for you, and have fallen countless times by your sword—but please understand, even so, my resolve should not be underestimated."
Even Kephale, the god of nature, could not mold all things at will, much less decide the fate of all living beings. No one can single-handedly balance the scales of life and death, not even a god.
"And that is why I chose to overcome the trials at the end of my long and arduous journey, and to take up the power of 'death'..."
Castorice's tone immediately turned cold, "I am called the Hand of Ashen Gloom, Castorice, the demigod of 'Death.' Listen well, Savior from the past—"
"Please turn back—do not disturb them, those many flowers dying like mud."
Khaslana didn't say much; the " Dawn's Advance " longsword in his hand said it all.
Castorice's form transformed into a " Death Dragon," "Unfortunately, at this boundary between life and death, the giant dragon is nothing but a mangled corpse..."
"... But I will still fight, and do my best to defend what I hope for!"
I respectfully request that you... rest in peace here!
Khaslana calmly deflected her attack, "I must refuse: I must transform my soul into flames..."
The memory of the divine fire burning brightly renders the decay of "death" futile before Khaslana.
Khaslana was determined. "The idol of ' Destruction ' must be burned to ashes."
In each and every " Eternal Recurrence," Khaslana's unwavering resistance against " Destruction " is precisely a practice of both " Destruction " and " Eternity."
Xing felt a sharp pain in her chest. She finally understood why " Eternity " and " Destruction " were incompatible. Who could bear having both of these templates on the same person?!
But the combination of " Eternity " and " Destruction " is actually quite self-consistent.
Prime Mover by 'eternal hatred', both the ' Eternity ' factor and the ' Destruction ' factor will continue to rise, with each accounting for a perfect 50%.
"How is this scene any different from that bleak future...?"
As an observer, Xing became the most helpless party, locked in this godforsaken place by ' Lygus ', unable to do anything.
Unfortunately, both sides were trying to protect Amphoreus. If the Iron Tomb were to be created, the consequences would be unimaginable. Khaslana was simply doing his best.
However, if this cycle continues for a long time, even the strongest willpower will inevitably be weakened.
As Khaslan performs " Eternal Recurrence " time and again, the Chrysos Heirs will still have a chance to return.
But once the " Re-Creation " is complete and the " Lord Ravager " Iron Tomb breaks free, his companions will no longer have a chance.
In Xing's view, Khaslana's actions were not in vain; they were far more meaningful than he had imagined, and they also indirectly protected the world outside of Amphoreus.
"Is it beyond saving...? Even if I can't win, I must...!"
Seizing the opportunity, Castorice unleashed her final, all-out attack on Khaslana.
"So, let us remember you... and pay tribute to your million struggles."
The result will remain unchanged; Khaslana will still emerge victorious.
"Wake up... you lost soul... see clearly that light in the darkness... it is not..."
Even in the final moments of her life, Castorice, like Mydei, still tried to awaken this 'old friend'.
"The ' Core Flame of death' was taken from the dragon's belly. What a bright fire."
With the last Core Flame in hand, Khaslana stood frozen in place, muttering to himself.
"It should illuminate everyone, illuminate the path ahead, illuminate the dawn that Amphoreus will eventually see..."
"Two million three thousand four hundred and thirty-two reincarnations..."
"Two thousand four hundred and forty-one thousand one hundred and eighty-four Core Flame..."
"It seems capable of burning away even the unfathomable primordial chaos."