Chapter 217: A Deity’s Corpse

The ground beneath Wang Yu’s feet was rising—not swiftly, but steadily—toward the vaulted ceiling of the capital’s shadow. A collision seemed imminent. From where he stood at the very edge of this ascending landmass, Wang Yu gazed toward its center, where something extraordinary was unfolding.

He had decided, for now, to name the existence born from the abyssal will that the Mirror of the Stars had inverted as “the Perfected One.” At this moment, it was striding toward a colossal figure partially embedded in the earth.

Most of that immense body lay buried beneath the ground. Only a head and a single arm jutted free—pristine, unmarred by rot or ruin, the flesh pale and flawless, exuding an awe-inspiring grandeur. By Wang Yu’s rough estimation, that lone arm alone stretched over ten meters long.

“So this is the Corpse of the End… Is this what a deity’s body truly looks like? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a true deity’s remains before.”

Wang Yu frowned. The Lady of the Night and the God of Light lacked physical forms, and the Font of Life, Erphine, was a fragmented being at best. This immense, intact body before him was his first real encounter with the corpse of a god.

“Who managed to kill something like this—and leave the body so perfectly preserved?”

As Wang Yu pondered the situation, the Perfected One reached the giant’s head. From what Wang Yu could see, the deity was feminine in appearance, her face pressed into the soil, features hidden from view.

The Perfected One extended an immaculate, flawless arm and lightly touched the divine corpse’s brow. A ripple of inscrutable energy surged outward. In the blink of an eye, the Perfected One vanished from Wang Yu’s sight.

The ground trembled violently. Forced to act quickly, Wang Yu condensed his blood into a longsword and thrust it into the earth to anchor himself to avoid being flung into the abyss below as the terrain began to disintegrate.

“Truly… unbelievable.”

Before his eyes, the buried corpse stirred. Its arm tore free of the earth, its head lifted, and its massive body began to rise.

The upheaval of the divine body shattered the ascending landmass, breaking it into countless floating chunks that surged upward toward the vaulted darkness above.

Wang Yu clung to one of the floating stones, his gaze riveted to the figure now emerging completely from the earth.

A pair of enormous, pristine white wings unfurled from the female figure’s back. A single wingbeat sent countless radiant beams of light spiraling around her vast form, driving away the eternal darkness of the capital’s shadow and flooding the subterranean world with blinding brilliance.

“An… angel?”

The thought surfaced unbidden. Indeed, the being before him bore an uncanny resemblance to an angel: a breathtakingly beautiful woman, her features so exquisite they seemed beyond mortal comprehension; her posture blending unyielding strength with transcendent grace; and her eyes, cold and indifferent to all existence.

She wore a translucent white veil that clung to her voluptuous form, modestly covering her body without diminishing her beauty. None who laid eyes on her could imagine anything carnal, anything profane.

“How did Aleisterre manage to hide something like this beneath the abyss? And where did they find the confidence to think they could control it?”

Wang Yu frowned slightly. The sheer might of the being before him, whether god or angel, was undeniable.

Her effortless upheaval of the abyss alone spoke volumes about her power.

But would she truly aid Aleisterre? Was she truly under their control?

“The Mirror of the Stars can’t be used again anytime soon,” Wang Yu thought grimly. “If things go south, burying this… thing… again won’t be an option. Whoever issued the order to release her better have a foolproof plan: first to unleash her against the God of Terror, and then somehow to contain her afterward.”

He could still sense the Mirror of the Stars hovering unseen above his head. It was now inert, its power spent for the time being. There was no burying this ‘angel’ back in the ground.

Still, at the very least, this being seemed hostile to that abhorrent god of terror. Their very natures were diametrically opposed. No doubt she would soon strike at the grotesque divinity that Selwyn had summoned.

Pouring out his blood once more from his ring, Wang Yu forged a series of spider-like limbs and used it to anchor himself to the underside of a floating stone, positioning himself far from the ceiling.

The angel raised her hand toward the vault above. Pure white radiance burst forth from her palm, lancing into the ceiling and instantly cracking it. From the fissures, blinding holy light poured out.

The mass of shattered earth had nearly reached the ceiling now. A collision was imminent. Wang Yu braced himself—he had no desire to become a smear on the underside of the plaza above. He needed the rock above him to absorb the impact.

An avalanche of fragmented earth, propelled by the angel’s power, slammed into the ceiling.

But there was no earthquake, no cataclysmic rumble. The cracked, glowing vault simply shattered like brittle glass, dissolving into a storm of debris mingled with the ascending chunks of earth. Through the gaps surged pillars of holy light, piercing into the heart of the capital’s surface—into the domain of the God of Terror.

The angel lifted her head. Her flawless, breathtaking face was utterly emotionless, her gaze cold and remote.

She raised her arm high and spread her fingers wide. The bands of light spiraling around her vast wings converged at her hand and coalesced into a radiant spear.

With a seemingly effortless motion, she threw the spear. Though she didn’t seem to have used visible force, it blurred into a flash of pure light, tearing through the floating debris and streaking straight toward the looming shadow that represented the God of Terror’s divine domain.

As Wang Yu had suspected, this angel of perfection and purity would tolerate no trace of that hideous god’s existence.

In the Church of Nightfall’s stronghold underground, Avia’s eyes widened. She gazed up at the radiant figure in the sky, wonder and admiration mingling in her heart.

“So that’s the force Wang Yu was meant to unleash…? How beautiful… Where does her power even come from?”

She felt a hint of longing, a touch of reverence, but above all, an insatiable curiosity: the true mark of a scholar.

The capital’s shadow, once eternally cloaked in darkness, was now flooded with the angel’s brilliant light.

All the warring factions of the underground city had halted their battles. Their eyes turned skyward, drawn irresistibly to the figure that had sundered the heavens.

Then came an unexpected sound. A member of a local gang dropped his weapon and, without warning, fell to his knees. He pressed his forehead to the ground, bowing low in abject submission.

More of the gangsters followed in a chorus of bodies striking the earth. Countless members of the capital’s shadow gangs fell prostrate, pressing their heads to the ground, the thuds ringing out clear and sharp. Reverence crept into their vacant eyes and swiftly grew into a fervent, almost frenzied devotion.

“O divine one, at last you have descended upon this world! You are flawless beyond imagining—accept the faith of my lowly, sullied soul! Cleanse my sins, purify my filth!”

“My Lord, you are greatness incarnate! You are might itself! Bring salvation eternal to us, your humble mortal servants! Allow me to follow in your footsteps, to spread your gospel to all corners of the world!”

Words of praise tumbled from their lips. None could say why. These gang members, who had lived their lives without a shred of faith, now willingly surrendered their souls to the holy being that had appeared before them for the very first time. Perhaps they were the most surprised of all.

“Mighty, resplendent, perfect… Though I worship other gods, still I offer you my highest reverence.”

Some among them were faithful to other deities. While they didn’t abandon their original beliefs, they too bent their knees, offering solemn homage to the angel looming overhead.

“Something’s wrong… What’s happening?”

Avia glanced around in astonishment. Many of the Lady of the Night’s followers were clutching their heads in confusion, as they sensed an alien influence worming its way into their minds.

Others, more vigilant, swiftly grasped the situation.

“Something is assailing our souls! It’s twisting our wills! The Prayer Network is dispersing part of the influence, but it’s growing stronger—we need more defenses!”

Though Avia herself didn’t sense anything unexpected, she reacted immediately and retreated into her mindscape.

Standing within the castle of her mindscape, Avia turned her gaze toward its boundary, where Wang Yu’s protective barrier shimmered.

Beyond her sanctuary, a strange rain was falling—glowing white droplets cascading from some unknown height, splashing against the edges of her shield before trickling downward into nothingness.

“Mental energy? But in this form… I’ve seen records describing this as the unconscious emanation of a being so powerful that even its mere existence resonates within the minds of the weak.”

This glowing rain was eerily similar to the crimson rain she had once witnessed during the academy incident, a rain that could warp the souls of sentient beings.

Avia had studied such phenomena in detail after that terrifying experience. Allegedly, they were born of unconscious projections, a byproduct of immense consciousness overwhelming all lesser minds within its reach.

“It’s that being above us… This can’t go on. The devout of the Church of Nightfall will be affected!”

Worry gnawed at her heart. Avia quickly offered a prayer to the Lady of the Night, begging for her divine protection to drive away the corrupting influence.

Responding to her call, a tide of flowing darkness swept over the Church of Nightfall, shrouding the area in a realm of shadow that seemed jarringly out of place beneath the luminous rain.

This dark zone was similar to the protective veil the Lady had once cast over the Church, though it was now much smaller—the capital’s shadow was no longer saturated with void energy, making it harder for the Lady to manifest her power fully.

“Everyone, quickly—into the Lady’s protection!”

Avia beckoned urgently, summoning those who had taken shelter in the Church of Nightfall into the cloak of darkness. Then she turned her gaze back toward the fragments of rock rising into the heavens alongside the angelic figure.

Enhancing her vision with a swift incantation, Avia caught sight of a familiar figure clinging to one of the rocks—Wang Yu.

“Please, stay safe!”

Across the great distance, Avia made a small gesture of encouragement, then turned and hurried into the Lady’s sanctuary with the others.

Above, on the surface of the capital, at the plaza now engulfed by the God of Terror’s divine domain, countless black, featureless silhouettes had assembled. They varied in size and stature, a grotesque collage of forms that aimlessly wandered through the god’s domain.

Confusion radiated from them. They, too, didn’t seem to understand why they had been brought to this place.

Some of them, noticing the corpses of Aleisterre’s citizens strewn across the god’s realm, approached and gently closed the staring, lifeless eyes of the dead with their shadowy hands.

Their true identities weren’t too difficult to guess. In a world where souls were tangible, death became a murky concept: did it begin with the final beat of a heart, or the shattering of the soul?

If a victim’s soul was obliterated, only for that victim’s consciousness to reform within a god’s domain, well, could that victim truly be said to have died at all?

Liches could rise again through their phylacteries; even undead creatures carried souls. In this world, the border between life and death was not as cleanly drawn as it was on Earth.

These dark, human-shaped shadows were none other than the former citizens of Selwyn’s capital who had “died” during the God of Terror’s divine descent.

In a sense, they had been granted new life—and a new kingdom. The God of Terror’s divine domain, erected atop the capital of Aleisterre.

To the living citizens of Aleisterre, this was a nightmare. But to these shadowborn, it was little different from the world they had once known.

Some had already begun to accept their new kingdom, venturing into the empty, abandoned homes of the dead with cautious curiosity.

Then, the ground of the divine kingdom shattered. Vast cracks spiderwebbed across the plaza. Through the fissures poured searing beams of sacred light, so bright they tore the divine domain apart.

Countless shadows disintegrated, consumed by the unleashed radiance.

The plaza collapsed entirely. Light speared through the God of Terror’s dark dominion, breaking the spell of terror. The angel’s body soared upward, rising from the depths. With divine fury, she hurled the spear of light in her hand toward the colossal silhouette of the God of Terror.

For the first time, the indifferent shadow of the god stirred.

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