“De…mon… Pillars??”

Kantesius no longer had the leisure to think about what Isatia was saying. His eye sockets felt like they were splitting, his eyes bulging wide.

Impossible. How could there ever be a day when he died??

No. Impossible. He had already attained a divine seat and long since cast off a frail mortal shell. Now he stood at the side of the gods, undying and immortal! How could he possibly suffer such an ignoble defeat in the hands of two foreign women?!

Kantesius was consumed by unwillingness. He desperately wanted to tell himself that no matter what kind of extraordinary flame was blooming in the hand of that pink-haired foreign woman, it still could not do anything to him.

He was the king who had fought his way out of an endless sea of blood. Ever since he contracted his Spirit Soul, it had been hundreds of years of life-and-death campaigns without ever sheathing his blade, conquering more foreign races and territories than one could count, building so many wonders and temples that even he had lost track, accomplishing immortal feats for the ages, going through fire and water, how many times pacing back and forth before the gates of hell??

Even the divinities had praised his devotion and achievements, granting him true eternity after death.

That gave Kantesius a certain conviction: he absolutely would not die. The restraints placed upon mortals did not apply to him.

His death was nothing more than foreshadowing for a timely resurrection to come.

He was the most meritorious and most powerful king in history. How could he possibly die??

He had been resurrected because of an oracle, and it was also the will of the gods that he obtain eternal continuance after that and keep serving as the king of Marsmo.

How could he possibly be completely defeated here??

A veteran of countless battlefields, Kantesius did not fear pain—pain only made him more excited—but the one thing he feared was death.

And precisely because he feared death too much, he had ordered the entire civilization of Marsmo to convert to the deities of [Eternity] and [Continuance], squeezing his slaves and commoners dry to build temples for himself in hopes of winning the gods’ favor.

In the end, when he realized that no matter how he worshiped or how many temples he raised, he still could not avoid death, he remained unwilling and pulled all the soldiers who had been loyal to him in life, along with countless slaves and commoners, down into his tomb to conduct a live burial ritual, burying the living alive, carving his own name into their bodies with burning knives, using that as a brand to forever enslave them and bind their souls to his tomb for all eternity.

Yes—what the ancient king of Marsmo, Kantesius, feared more than anything was death.

He could not accept that he would be unable to take away anything he had conquered, could not accept that the great achievements he had built with his own hands could only be handed off to others while he, alone, could only close his eyes and slumber forever in an endless night.

That feeling after death—he did not want to experience it a second time.

Watching all this, Isatia had, in turn, figured something out. A look of realization slid through her heart.

So that was it. During the previous invasion incident with the Alchemy Demon Erunios, the “Dawn Goddess” or “Saintess of the Dawn” that manifested in the world had, with overwhelming likelihood, actually been Vinny.

In truth, ever since that incident, Isatia had always harbored a great deal of personal doubt about that “goddess’ epiphany” business. She had felt that the Dawn Goddess or the Saintess of the Dawn appearing in person like that was far too preposterous, and also illogical.

If the Dawn Goddess and the Saintess of the Dawn could really manifest, then why had they not shown themselves and saved their own bloodline at the Figgs Family’s most desperate moments??

House Lanteville was also a sage-house. As fellow sage-houses, they understood this sort of thing better than most families. They were very clear: this was the kind of story you told outsiders, to intimidate potential enemies, to lend your own house more sanctity. If you brought it out to deceive yourself, that would just be self-delusion.

Unless the power of [Saint’s Favor] worked differently, once each generation of ancestral forebears died, they were simply dead. They would not manifest again. In times of crisis, the ancestors would not take action; they had all “personally tested” that several times already.

Everything could only be entrusted to the living, to themselves—just as in this very moment.

Thus Isatia had always carried a strong private hypothesis about that previous incident of the Dawn Goddess’ manifestation. Now, all of those doubts were solved at once.

However, there was still something strange.

Just how had Vinny managed to release such a /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ large-scale [All-Gods Consecration Flame] that last time??

Just a few wisps of [All-Gods Consecration Flame] that flew out from Vanessa’s palm had been enough to make Kantesius’ [Grandlord of Enslaved Souls] completely collapse, and now yet another wisp had emerged, about to land squarely on Kantesius’ chest.

“No, no!”

Kantesius, forcing his immobile body to twist toward the side with all his might, let his survival instinct drive him. The flame landed on his left shoulder instead, and in an instant, it crawled down from his shoulder, rapidly spreading and burning away the left arm that had been about to grow out.

“AAAAAAH!!”

At the last possible moment, the frenzied Kantesius used the right arm he had managed to regrow to yank out the waist-knife at his hip and, without the slightest hesitation, with absolute decisiveness, hacked off his own arm right where the fire was about to spread onto his shoulder joint, then hurriedly flung the blade away.

Relying on this lizard-tail-shedding method of escape, Kantesius tumbled to the ground and, still shaken, stared at the severed left arm and knife on the ground that had been so thoroughly purified by holy fire that not even slag remained. Terror flooded his gaze.

What in the world was this fire?!

“No, no!”

Once he realized that after his left arm had been burned away, it truly did not grow back, that he could no longer feel any existence of a left arm, Kantesius’ spirit was completely frightened out of him. There was not a trace left of his former majestic bearing.

He now knew only one thing: this time, he really was about to die.

This was not like last time. Last time, he’d at least had a tomb and so many people buried along with him. This time, once that terrifying spark of fire touched him, even his body would be purified without a trace left behind.

Where would he go then?!

Kantesius lay sprawled on the ground, staring up at the cherry-haired beauty towering over him, looking down from on high. Beneath the mask, his face had gone chalk-white.

“W-wait! Don’t move yet, we can still talk this out. Y-you… do you want eternal life? Do you want to obtain eternity? No matter how strong you are, you still can’t truly live forever, can you? Heh… heh heh, if that’s the case, then why can’t we choose to work together?? You don’t want to see all your power end up buried in a grave someday either, right?? I—”

In this moment, he had no concept of “dignity” left. All he knew was that anything he did had to be premised on him still being alive. In order to survive, there was nothing he would not do.

Before Kantesius could finish speaking, Vanessa swung her hammer and smashed him into a spray of flesh and blood, his entire body blown into several pieces that flew off in different directions.

Under normal circumstances, she would not have listened to a single word of Kantesius’ drivel. A tyrant this depraved would be completely purified by [All-Gods Consecration Flame] the instant he spat out the first syllable.

However—

Isatia had also sensed that something was wrong.

Vanessa clearly knew that ordinary attacks could not kill Kantesius. So why had she not decisively burned Kantesius to death just now with [All-Gods Consecration Flame], and instead chosen to knock him flying??

A very bad premonition settled into her heart.

Sure enough, that hammer-swing had been an act of helplessness on Vanessa’s part.

She could no longer release [All-Gods Consecration Flame].

Vanessa dropped to one knee, using her hammer to prop up half of her body. Her other hand clutched her forehead, sweat streaming down her crystalline skin without end.

Only now did Isatia realize that when Vanessa had released those earlier wisps of [All-Gods Consecration Flame], she had already looked very wrong—the expression extremely strained, sweat pouring down her face. Now it was as if she had been completely drained, to the point that she could not even lift her gaze, her eyes losing all focus.

‘[Virtue +50].’

‘[Current Virtue: 3334].’

“Vinny??” Isatia called.

But at this point, Vanessa could no longer hear Isatia’s voice calling to her.

She felt her vision go black, her five senses fail, her limbs go numb, even her lips trembling nonstop.

She had been perfectly fine when releasing spells before, but the moment it involved [Saint’s Favor], a severe anemia reaction hit her immediately. If she had not been biting the tip of her tongue, she might have fainted outright in the very next second.

Vanessa knew exactly what was happening to her: she was missing far too much of her refined blood and could no longer unleash her strongest [Saint’s Favor].

The stronger the Saint’s Favor, the greater the price it demanded.

[Immaculate Holy Feathers] was still manageable, but [All-Gods Consecration Flame] was not.

When it burned, what it consumed was not only an enormous amount of mana, but also the Blessing Angel’s Essence—angel’s blood.

Normally, when she was not short on blood, Vanessa would not feel it much. But now—

“Classmate Aesphyra, you really… screwed me over.” Vanessa murmured under her breath, her body tilting as she slumped down.

“Vinny??”

Seeing this, Isatia hurriedly stepped forward to catch Vanessa.

Now that even the one responsible for healing had collapsed, the situation had truly plunged into crisis.

“Angel’s blood.”

Isatia had not heard what Vanessa had just whispered, but based on what Vanessa had mentioned earlier, she could more or less figure out why the other girl had run out of strength and suddenly passed out.

“Heh… heh heh, hahahaha!”

And in the very next moment, a wild peal of laughter rang out from the direction where Kantesius had been blasted.

Kantesius strode out from the rubble with a smug look, his only remaining right hand gripping his spiked mace.

“I thought you were something impressive, but you were just pretending, bluffing.”

“You really thought you could kill me? Don’t be ridiculous. I am the chosen of the gods! The gods’ favor rests upon my fate; they will not allow me to die!”

“You made the great king of Marsmo lose an arm. Do you have any idea what that means?!”

Now that he was still alive, and his greatest threat had fainted, Kantesius immediately swelled up again.

Isatia stared silently at Kantesius as he walked toward them, quietly tightening her hold around Vanessa’s soft body. Looking down at the cherry-haired girl in her arms, whose breathing had grown heavy, whose whole body was drenched in cold sweat and looked utterly weak and fragile, Isatia’s expression hardened.

“W-where is this? It’s… it’s so dark…”

“Father… Mother… d-don’t, don’t leave… me alone…”

The cherry-haired girl’s consciousness seemed to have already slipped into chaos. Her lips moved, making sounds of soft, breathy murmurs that made one’s bones go numb, filled with pitiable helplessness and fragile dependence.

Thinking of Vinny’s childhood and everything he had gone through, those words seemed to strike right at Isatia’s heart.

‘[Virtue +100].’

‘[Current Virtue: 3404].’

At the very least… she had to protect her.

Several ornate golden spears shot forth, lancing toward Kantesius.

“Hahahaha, it’s useless!”

Kantesius allowed the spears to run him through, even using his own body as a shield to make it harder for the spears to be pulled back out.

“No magic, no Spirit Soul can do anything to me!” Kantesius snarled with a twisted grin.

Isatia held Vanessa tightly, her arms wrapped around her, silent for a brief moment.

She knew that she herself stood on the very brink of her Sea of Mind collapsing completely. If not for the holy light suspending that last breath, she might already have become a living dead who would never wake again.

Her [Saint’s Favor] had been pushed to its absolute limit. It had already caved in, and very soon, she would be done for.

But… how would she know if she did not try?

Since her Sea of Mind was already a complete mess, overdrawing it a little more would hardly make a difference.

Isatia closed her eyes, and with her at the center, a thunderous sphere of light that seemed capable of splitting heaven and earth began to spread out. Yet before it could even cover the area around her, it shattered.

“Trying that same move as before again? Heh, even putting aside whether you can still use it, what if you could? Do you really think you can kill me??”

Kantesius was not afraid at all.

She could not kill him. But what if… she sealed him inside a collapsing [Perennial Imperial Diadem] instead??

Even though that would mean she too would be trapped forever inside an out-of-control [Perennial Imperial Diadem], and the odds of success were almost nonexistent, she still had to try.

However—

As expected, quite apart from whether she could still summon a [Perennial Imperial Diadem] that had already lost its hub clock tower, even if she could, [Perennial Imperial Diadem] could not be deployed in a place that had never been constructed within it.

If only… if only there were buildings here she had already constructed, or if she could directly transfer herself to [Perennial Imperial Diadem].

But that was absolutely impossible. If she truly could do that, then a [Perennial Imperial Diadem] that could be unfolded anytime, anywhere would be far too terrifying.

That was what she had always believed. After all, her ancestors had left strict injunctions not to ever attempt summoning [Perennial Imperial Diadem] in a place that had never been constructed, or one would suffer a terrifying backlash. There were far too many such cases recorded in the family’s history.

Isatia had heard that injunction since she was small. Her father, terrified she might one day try it, had emphasized it to her over and over again.

Now, however, Isatia no longer cared.

She already counted as a dead person. Why should she care about any of that? Rather than sit and wait to die, why not gamble once??

Isatia glanced at the cherry-haired girl in her arms.

The self she used to be, who clung rigidly to the rules, would never have made such a decision.

With that single thought, Isatia closed her eyes and, disregarding everything, forced open [Perennial Imperial Diadem].

What surprised her was that by changing her way of thinking to summon [Perennial Imperial Diadem], she instead discovered a new world.

With her eyes closed, everything before her was darkness—until, suddenly, a bright and majestic avenue appeared within that darkness.

Strange. What was this??

What was this path, and where did it lead??

Isatia lifted her gaze toward the end of the great road, where a holy, immaculate, and grand silver-white sanctuary had appeared.

She recognized it.

That was the Cathedral of the Dawn inside her [Perennial Imperial Diadem].

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep