Chapter 83: Chapter 83 : The Primordial goddess Avatar

In the ancient, war-scorched history of Etheron, there was an era when darkness threatened to swallow everything whole.

The forces of the Abyss—malevolent entities from realms beyond comprehension—descended upon the continent in a tidal wave of destruction.

Entire races vanished, cities fell, and the land itself bled.

In the face of annihilation, the scattered and prideful races of Etheron—the humans, elves, dwarves, vampires, merfolk, and fairies—set aside their endless conflicts and united against a common enemy.

Each of these races had long worshipped their own patron deities:

The vampires revered Nyx, the Primordial Goddess of Darkness and Night.

The humans followed the radiant Aurora, Goddess of Light—also known by her many other names.

The elves worshipped Freyja, Goddess of Beauty, Fertility, War, and the bearer of the World Tree Seed.

The dwarves honored Hephaestus, the stoic God of the Forge and Master of Craft.

The fairies offered devotion to Gaia, the Primordial Goddess of Earth and Nature.

The merfolk revered the twin powers of the ocean—Amphitrite and Poseidon, the goddess and god of the sea.

When the armies of the Abyss began to consume the realm, these races cried out to their gods—not with hollow praise, but desperate, soul-wrenching prayers.

And the gods answered.

From their divine thrones beyond the mortal plane, they each chose a single champion—a conduit of their divine will—to serve as their Avatar.

These Avatars were not mere saints or prophets.

They were gods incarnate.

An Avatar was the living vessel of their deity’s power, purpose, and essence. Their mortal bodies were transfigured—imbued with divine flame, elemental might, ancient blood, and supernatural authority.

They walked among mortals as beacons of salvation, their every word carrying the weight of divine command.

To support their chosen, the gods also blessed the most loyal and noble lineages of each race with sacred bloodlines—unique gifts to help form elite legions: champions who could stand beside the Avatars in battle.

Just as the Goddess of Light once chose her most faithful, she named the First King of Humanity as her Avatar.

Under his leadership, the humans rallied as never before, and with the help of the other races, they pushed back.

One Avatar rose for each race. United, they led the final stand.

Together, these divine champions slew the Sovereign of the Abyss, the monstrous ruler of the invading forces, in a cataclysmic battle that shattered mountains and reshaped the land.

But it was a bittersweet victory—by the time the smoke cleared, over thirty percent of Etheron had already fallen to abyssal corruption.

While dying, the Sovereign revealed a horrifying truth:

“This form may perish… but the Abyss does not die.

I shall be replaced, as I am nothing but a mere puppet of the Outer Gods and forces beyond this lower plane’s comprehension.

You are merely delaying the inevitable. All of you… will fall.”

The surviving Avatars, driven by duty and desperation, launched countless crusades to reclaim the corrupted lands.

But the Abyss had entrenched itself too deeply. Every attempt ended in failure—and eventually, one by one, the Avatars perished, consumed by the endless war they were born to fight.

Yet before their deaths, they accomplished one final act of salvation.

Using their divine authority and unearthly might—greater even than Monarch-ranked beings—they united their power with the legendary craftsmanship of the dwarves.

Through a fusion of divine magic and arcane technology, they forged a monumental artifact known as the Aetherion Lock.

This artifact sealed off the Abyss-corrupted lands behind an unbreachable divine barrier. Around the borders of every remaining race’s territory, the Lock prevented full-scale abyssal invasions.

The monsters of the dark could still come through dimensional rifts and dungeons or send probing agents—but never again could they march in full force.

The cost of maintaining this seal was great.

Nearly 80 percent of their divinity was spent.

And they died in their crusades to reclaim the land.

After that, the gods fell silent.

The religion of the Goddess of Light became the most revered across the entire continent.

Centuries passed. The world healed. The Avatars became legend, myth… forgotten.

Until now.

For the first time in an age, a god has moved.

Aurora, the Goddess of Light, has chosen a new Avatar:

Ethan Williams, heir of House Williams—now known to the world as the Hero of Light.

Alex knew this well. After all, it was part of the game’s main storyline.

But what he hadn’t expected—was Lilith.

In the game, Lilith only became Nyx’s Avatar during the climax of the first arc, on the verge of death.

But what he was seeing now… made no sense.

Lilith was already fighting like an Avatar.

“What the actual hell is going on?” Alex muttered, watching the chaos unfold.

—

The arena was no longer a dueling ground—it had become a battlefield.

Cracks zigzagged across the marble tiles, and the temperature fluctuated violently between blistering heat and searing beams of divine light.

The magical suppression field flickered and sparked as the energy output exceeded safety thresholds. It was all unraveling—and at the center of it stood Lilith, cloaked in scarlet fire and blood.

“Come on, Cordelia! You were all bark a moment ago!”

Lilith’s manic laughter rang through the chaos like a song of war.

Cordelia was on the defensive, blood trickling from her lip as she skidded across the arena floor.

Her once-pristine Academy uniform was torn and scorched, her proud orange hair matted with soot.

She gritted her teeth, eyes glowing with furious determination.

“Enough!”

A surge of light and water exploded from her body, forming a radiant pillar that pushed back Lilith’s flames momentarily. Her aura solidified, sharp as crystal. She started using everything she had.

She raised her hand.

“Divine Torrent!”

A cascade of blinding liquid light surged toward Lilith, the water hissing and glowing with purifying energy.

The crowd gasped—the spell was lethal, normally forbidden in Academy duels.

But Lilith?

She just smiled wider.

Her eyes shimmered red. Her body blurred. The light exploded uselessly against a wall of blood and flame, vaporizing in a hiss of steam.

She surged forward, twisting around the remnants of the spell like a dancing flame.

“Was that it?” she whispered directly into Cordelia’s ear—

before ramming a flaming punch into her ribs, sending her tumbling across the floor.

Lilith didn’t let up.

With every blow, every cut of her blood-forged blade, she spoke.

“Oh? Did you think you’d get an easy victory from this beautiful junior of yours?”

WHAM!

“Did you think I’d break after a few insults?”

CRACK!

“Who’s the trash now?!”

Cordelia screamed as Lilith’s foot crashed into her stomach, sending her crashing into the platform.

The audience—students—watched in stunned silence.

This wasn’t a duel anymore.

This was an execution.

Breathing heavily, Cordelia’s hands trembled. Her pride cracked. Her aura surged in desperation.

“I’ll fucking kill you, filthy bloodsucker!” she shouted.

A sharp whistle echoed through the air as she summoned her Spirit.

From a blinding circle of light emerged a towering creature—a majestic being of water and purification.

It had the form of a shark-dragon hybrid, translucent and sleek, its body composed of flowing water and embedded shards of crystal.

“Lumen Seraphis!” she called.

The spirit roared, light arcing from its jaws.

Cordelia and her spirit launched forward in tandem, striking from both flanks with a synchronized blitz of spells and fangs.

Yet—

Lilith didn’t even blink.

With a snarl, she raised her sword high, and—

BOOM.

A violent burst of void energy erupted from her body. Reality shivered.

The shadows grew darker.

The air grew heavier.

The sound vanished, as if the world had held its breath.

The Void.

Alex’s eyes widened in the distance.

“No. That’s impossible. She already unlocked her void affinity? Just how broken has her character become?”

Void Affinity.

One of the rarest, most destructive forces in all of Etheron.

And Lilith was wielding it.

“What… what are you?” Cordelia gasped, her voice trembling.

Lilith smiled—but it wasn’t human.

It was feral.

Eyes glowing red-black, she raised her void-forged blade.

“I’m darkness itself right now.”

The spirit lunged—and Lilith moved like a whisper in a hurricane.

One slash.

Clean. Swift. Absolute.

The mighty Lumen Seraphis exploded into particles of light, returning to the spirit realm in an instant.

Cordelia’s breath caught in her throat.

“N-No…”

She stumbled backward. Her knees buckled. The pressure pressing down on her chest was suffocating.

This wasn’t the same girl she’d belittled just a few moments ago.

This was a monster.

A monster blessed by Nyx, the Primordial Goddess of Darkness.

A burst of void tendrils whipped out from Lilith’s side, wrapping around Cordelia’s arms and slamming her into the ground.

BAM!

Again.

BAM!

Again.

The arena trembled.

Her voice cracked.

“P-Please, I yield—!”

But before Cordelia finished her sentence—

BAM!

Again.

Lilith’s eyes burned brighter, and her manic laughter filled the air like war drums.

“Oh no, senior,” she said, stepping over her battered opponent.

“We’re just getting started.”

Lilith stood amidst the broken remains of the arena, bathed in flickering voidfire and trails of crimson mist from her blood arts.

Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths—not from exhaustion, but from euphoria. Her eyes were wild, glowing like twin galaxies of black and red, twisting with madness and something dangerously close to joy.

And then—

She threw her head back and laughed.

Not just a laugh.

A full, unrestrained, maniacal cackle that chilled the bones of every single person in the training ground.

It was the kind of laugh that didn’t belong to a person. It belonged to something more.

Something ancient.

Something broken.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

She looked like a demon basking in destruction.

And then—

Her eyes shifted.

From Cordelia’s twitching, defeated form…

…to Alex.

In that moment, everything slowed.

Lilith tilted her head slightly, her hair cascading like a waterfall of night and flame, the embers dancing around her like fireflies in hell.

Her bloodstained lips curled into a smile—dangerous, seductive, and terrifying.

Then—

She licked her lips.

—

Alex blinked.

No.

Nonononono.

He took a slow step back.

“Why… why the hell is that crazy bitch looking at me like that?”

He could feel every nerve in his body screaming. The instincts of an “extra” flaring like a survival alarm.

His thoughts spiraled in panic.

He muttered without knowing.

“Please don’t look at me like that. I’m just an extra. A disposable mob in your dramatic main story.

There’s your Hero of Light—he’s right next to me! He’s glowing and pure and all that shiny protagonist stuff! Just go suck him dry or whatever you psychos do!”

He chuckled nervously and waved a hand in front of Ethan like a magician performing a trick.

“Behold! Your main course!”

Seeing Alex’s gesture, only one thing came into Ethan’s mind , ’What the hell is this crazy bastard doing?’

Her gaze was locked entirely on Alex. Hungry. Curious.

And then—without looking away from him—she raised her arm.

A sphere of compressed voidfire and blood mana spiraled into existence in her palm, pulsing like a heart.

Cordelia, barely conscious, stirred weakly on the ground.

Lilith’s fingers twitched.

She was about to finish her off—with a spell that would erase her completely.

Then—

CRACK.

It wasn’t sound.

It wasn’t light.

It was pressure.

A pressure so vast, so overwhelming, that the entire training ground collapsed into silence.

The next moment, everyone—1st year students, 2nd years even Alicia von Crestvale herself—was forced to their knees, gasping as if all the air had been crushed from their lungs.

Even Lilith staggered, her glowing eyes widening in surprise as she collapsed to her knees, her spell fizzling mid-air.

A pair of polished black boots appeared in front of her.

Alistair.

He walked like a man whose presence alone could silence riots and halt wars.

He looked at her—face calm, but his black eyes radiated divine command.

He spoke only once.

“My lady… that is enough.”

And without waiting for an answer, he gently touched her forehead.

Lilith collapsed.

Not violently. Not like a puppet with its strings cut.

She simply… fell, like a sleeping goddess, collapsing into Alistair’s arms with a serene expression and a faint smile still etched on her lips.

The void energy dissipated like mist.

The pressure vanished instantly.

Everyone gasped, their lungs finally filling with air again.

Alicia collapsed to one knee, panting.

“What… the hell was that pressure…?

Professor Alistair should at least warn us first…”

Alistair turned, his voice like thunder in the aftermath of a storm.

“Lilith Noctis Bloodrose is the winner.”

Silence.

Then the medical team burst into action, carefully lifting both Lilith and Cordelia onto stretchers. Cordelia was a bruised, broken mess. Lilith looked like she’d just taken a pleasant nap.

Isadora, Lilith’s maid, also came running to support her mistress.

They were both rushed away for treatment.

But no one moved.

No one spoke.

They were still trying to process what had just happened.

The second-year top cadets could not believe what their eyes had just seen.

One of their own was being taken away on a stretcher—beaten and bruised—by someone who was one entire rank lower than her.

“Did… did an Advance (Low)-Rank just beat an Expert (Mid)-Rank?”

No. She didn’t just beat her.

She obliterated her.

Like it wasn’t even a contest.

Like it was personal.

Even Ethan, the golden boy of House Williams, stood stiffly, brows furrowed.

He clenched his fists.

“She’s… she’s one too,” he whispered. “She’s an Avatar.”

Meanwhile, on the far end of the field…

Alex was still frozen in place, sweating like a chicken in a volcano.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t speak.

His mind was a constant loop of pure, unfiltered panic.

“WHY WAS THAT CRAZY BITCH SMILING AT ME? LIKE THAT?!”

“That was not a ’I see a friend’ smile. That was a ’I see a chew toy I want to break slowly over a three-season arc’ kind of smile!”

“This isn’t how it goes! This isn’t how ANY OF THIS GOES! THE STORYLINE IS GOING TO SHIT!”

He looked around at the broken platform, the whispering students, and the twitching Ethan.

“What the hell is happening…” he muttered.

And for the first time since transmigrating…

Alex realized something horrifying.

“The plot was going to shit.”

And it looked like he was the reason.

———

A/N:-

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