Chapter 285: Triumphant Return

The Tree of the Night, physical manifestation of the Lady of the Night’s divine power, collided with the Undying Lord’s descending palm. Divine and void energy clashed with and devoured one another, forming a swirling maelstrom of unstable forces where titanic strength met divine resistance.

The Undying Lord, typically unfazed, hesitated for a moment. A presence not unlike its own had suddenly emerged. This was unusual.

Gods of the void rarely clashed in their native domain, for they shared the same goal: to shatter the boundary between void and matter and spread chaos unchecked.

But hesitation did not mean restraint. Despite the anomaly, the Undying Lord pressed the attack. The mad gods of the void did not weigh cost or consequence.

The Undying Lord had set its mind on annihilating Wang Yu, and it would do so even if it meant destroying another god’s avatar.

A second titanic palm crashed upon the Tree of the Night’s crown. Void energy rushed in from every direction, carrying with it unfathomable madness and chaos. The full might of the void slammed down over Wang Yu’s head.

The blows made the Tree of the Night tremble. Starlight shimmered across its bark, and liquid darkness rippled in waves—but it was clear that the Tree of the Night was losing ground.

“Is this really okay? If this continues, just toss me down there. That thing can’t hurt me. Just protect the two-way portal. I’ll figure a way back up later.”

Wang Yu, encased in the protective canopy of the Tree of the Night, turned to the tall woman beside him, who was clad in flowing black silk.

“Worry not,” replied Lady Darkness, the Lady of the Night. She shook her head, calm and firm. “I am not alone. I can grant you shelter—for now.” Her power might not rival the true strength of the Undying Lord, but she could still shield her chosen, if only for a time.

“Glad to hear it. Much appreciated.”

Wang Yu grinned and gave his theoretical superior a thumbs-up. Once again, this archbishop had called on his own goddess for a battlefield rescue.

The Undying Lord’s wrath intensified. It began to rage as the Tree of the Night’s resilience proved greater than anticipated. It would allow no obstructions—anything in its path would be reduced to dust.

The Tree of the Night shook violently. Chunks of dark bark peeled away.

But beneath the outer darkness was a sky strewn with radiant stars, brighter and livelier than before. A living sky of dazzling constellations pulsed from within the tree itself.

If the outer layer was the night’s veil, then this was the brilliant cosmos beyond.

Wang Yu understood what it all meant. Each twinkling star within the tree represented a follower of the Lady of the Night. The Church of Nightfall had surely flourished in his absence.

The stars varied—some dim and flickering, others large and gleaming. Their brilliance reflected the devotion of the faithful: the purer the belief, the brighter the star.

Truth be told, Wang Yu found the Lady of the Night quite a curious deity. Though she claimed dominion over shadow and concealment, her divine manifestation—the Tree of the Night—had only grown more radiant and teeming with life.

Her power was shifting, and yet her domains of shadow and concealment were indeed growing stronger. Wang Yu could feel the difference clearly compared to the days of the capital’s shadow.

Still, the Tree of the Night was nearing its limit. The Undying Lord’s power exceeded what her divine manifestation could endure. If the fight were to continue, her foundation might even end up compromised.

But the Lady had said she was not alone. That meant reinforcements were coming.

Wang Yu had asked Sieg not to accompany him and Avia to the cursebinding spire. Instead, he had sent the man to Aleisterre to gather allies.

After all, what good was honor against devils? Wang Yu would seize every advantage he could—he wasn’t the type to play hero when he could bring backup with him instead.

As the Tree of the Night quaked and its divine shelter began to crack, the portal above Wang Yu’s head rippled.

A phantom blade of radiant gold pierced through the void.

A holy longsword, shimmering with crimson-gold brilliance, sliced straight into the chest of the Undying Lord.

Despite the fact that it was utterly dwarfed by the Undying Lord’s colossal frame, that didn’t matter. The sword wasn’t meant to deal damage. It was a beacon, a divine mark.

“Fang’s here, too?”

Wang Yu blinked in surprise as he glanced at the Lady beside him. The sword pulsed with pure divine energy. No ordinary priest could summon such power.

“Fang Stuart had more pressing matters. He sent the newly appointed paladin instead,” replied the Lady of the Night, her voice laced with amusement.

“Let me guess—Edward?”

Wang Yu chuckled.

“Correct.”

The Lady of the Night nodded.

“Not bad at all,” Wang Yu murmured.

Wang Yu folded his arms and watched the void begin to shift. He was getting used to the Church of Light’s absurd style. They probably found Edward ‘worthy’ and gave him some ridiculously exalted title on a whim.

It was the same way Fang had become an archbishop, really—though given Edward’s background, perhaps he hadn’t needed to knock over as many bishops to earn that position.

Moments later came the light: a rift of golden brilliance, like the one Wang Yu had once glimpsed in Fang’s mental sanctuary, split open behind the Undying Lord.

This time, it did not appear in a border realm between mindscape and void. It manifested directly into the void itself.

Through the fissure torn into the void, Wang Yu beheld a sphere of radiance, dazzling beyond measure. Countless golden threads of light streamed in from unknown reaches and coalesced into the brilliant orb.

That orb, in turn, unleashed a tide of golden brilliance like a waterfall of light. Light poured down from the fissure, streaming directly onto the marked target—the body of the Undying Lord.

“So that’s the God of Light? It truly looks nothing like the Lady of the Night… and entirely unlike the gods of the void as well.”

Wang Yu spared the golden orb a glance, then turned to the towering lady robed in black beside him.

She had closed her eyes and was refusing to gaze upon the light. Evidently, for the Lady of the Night, the God of Light was not an entity she wished to face directly.

But just as always, Wang Yu didn’t sense anything unusual—apart from the sharp sting in his eyes from the overwhelming brilliance.

There was a faint sound, half-real, half-imagined. The moment the golden stream touched the Undying Lord’s flesh, its form began to dissolve beneath the light.

A sensation of pain emerged within its mind, followed instantly by rage. It twisted its colossal body and stirred up a storm of void energy, preparing to annihilate whatever dared to harm it.

Then its gaze locked onto the orb of light. A memory stirred, one of a familiar golden radiance that had once torn through the void and ripped apart several of its kin—the same presence that had left the only scar upon its otherwise perfect, immortal body.

That scar now ached.

After endless eons, it had once begun to think of that golden figure as merely “interesting” rather than someone to fear. But now, confronted once more with its true presence, the Undying Lord didn’t hesitate. It fled.

This was an action that was anything but godlike—and precisely what had allowed it to survive the last encounter.

Silently, the Undying Lord vanished into the void, its immense frame retreating, partially destroyed by the divine light.

And as it disappeared, the golden fissure behind it began to close, concealing the orb of radiance once more.

“All right—time to go!”

Wang Yu scanned his surroundings. The three devils were dead. No power remained to bar his exit. It was time to leave the void—this place was no home to linger in. Who knew what other horrors might emerge and trap him here forever?

The bidirectional portal had drifted some distance away during the earlier spatial disturbance. It now rested near the canopy of the Tree of the Night. As he activated the Chariot, Wang Yu latched onto the dark, starlit bark of the great tree and began climbing toward the portal.

He waved down at the Lady of the Night below, then leapt into the portal as it expanded to accommodate him.

Then came a sensation of shifting, of descent. As the pull of gravity returned, Wang Yu instinctively prepared to summon blood from the bloodpool to halt his fall—only for a hand to reach down and grasp his wrist.

He didn’t hesitate. He took it and was pulled back up into the material world.

Landing squarely on the ground, Wang Yu glanced around. Avia was holding his hand, smiling, warm and radiant. Familiar faces surrounded him. Charles was approaching with a hand on Edward’s shoulder. A Nightblade captain, Gilbert, stood nearby, with a red-haired girl with a massive sword at his side—Wendy, who was now offering Wang Yu a polite salute.

Garcia and Sieg were deep in conversation, but the moment they noticed Wang Yu’s return, they closed their notebooks. Everyone from the cursebinding spire was present except Lilya. Every eye had turned to Wang Yu, studying him with awe, confusion, even disbelief—like he was some kind of rare and curious specimen. Fingers pointed, voices whispered, theories bloomed.

As for Wang Yu? He had no idea what to say. So he just gave everyone a thumbs-up.

“All done.”

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