novelraw Chapter 253 : Chapter 253
Chapter 253 : Chapter 253
The Volume of the End 3 — The Many Faces of God
“Stop fighting. You can still enjoy the long life of a Golden Elf and live out your years in peace. But if you insist on defiance, I fear your life will soon end,” Astrid added. “This is no empty threat.”
“In your current condition, you are deeply ‘poisoned.’ Unless you stop using Divine Authority for the rest of your life, you won’t survive. If you ignore my warning and continue to use it—especially if you activate Sacred Oblivion again—you will be walking straight to your death.”
“Because of your reckless use of Sacred Oblivion, the filth within you has already reached its maximum threshold. All it needs is a single spark to explode completely.”
“That spark could be you—or him,” Teresa said, unmoved.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Astrid said. “You plan to use the Sacred Oblivion he once embedded in you to kill him, the same way he killed you. But have you ever thought about this? He’s been planning for over a thousand years. Do you really think he hasn’t accounted for that possibility?” Her expression didn’t waver.
“I assume you’ve investigated the lower divisions of the clan’s enforcement department. Haven’t you considered the possibility that he anticipated his actions being discovered? Even the fact that you ultimately identified him as the culprit—might that not have been part of his plan too?”
“What are you trying to say?”
“That your most crucial shard was hidden within mine. Only when this shard was triggered could you fully recover your memories. All of it was his arrangement.”
“In other words, whether you or I—we’re both still walking along the path he set a thousand years ago. And even knowing the truth, we can do nothing but follow it to the end?”
“Precisely,” Astrid said plainly. “He deliberately hid your final memory inside my shard, guiding you to destroy Ruglian’s many seals. It proves that your memory’s recovery and your return to full strength were also part of his plan.”
“You think he would overlook the Sacred Oblivion within you? That he hasn’t considered you might try to die together with him? Even Sacred Oblivion itself was merely a tool in his design.”
“So, you’re trying to persuade me to give up?” Teresa gripped the silver moon chain that bound her.
“Then let me show you,” she said coldly, “what makes me different from you all.”
“Crack!” In the next instant, Teresa snapped the silver chain apart with one hand.
“Ugh…” Teresa dropped to one knee, black sludge-like corruption spreading around her body, weighing her down.
“I told you—if you want to live, stop using your Divine Authority,” Astrid said, the corner of her eye twitching faintly.
“...I don’t understand you people,” Teresa rose slowly, holding her chest. “In your eyes, lives are nothing but numbers.”
“Fate cannot be defied; that’s how it’s meant to be… But just because it’s meant to be—does that make it right?”
“You still don’t understand. This generation’s War Goddess—no matter you or me—we are nothing before fate, less than ants. To resist fate is a joke, for even that so-called ‘resistance’ is part of fate itself.”
“Then let me tell you something.” Teresa stood, black miasma coiling around her as it deepened its corruption with every moment.
“There’s a saying—‘Man can conquer heaven.’”
The Floral Whisper: Eternal Renewal transformed, the long green-wood spear entwined with a serpentine tree dragon forming in Teresa’s hand.
When the Broken Bow effect activated, her martial prowess was amplified to its peak—transcending the limits of mortal skill.
Her spear struck like lightning, splitting into thousands of phantom spears midair, each roaring like thunder as they all locked onto Astrid.
“For someone who’s lived for centuries, you’re still this childish? You really are like her.” Astrid shook her head, invoking Exalted Maiden of the Full Moon.
But unlike before, her Exalted Maiden no longer hovered behind her. This time, she summoned it as an entire starry sky—the firmament itself became her foundation.
“Clang! Clang!” The lunar blade in her hand blocked the incoming storm of spears with a single graceful parry.
“?!” Teresa’s eyes widened.
“I forgot to mention,” Astrid said, glancing calmly at her. “Though I’m still missing one final shard, I remember that in my previous life, before I died, they called me…”
“The Elf War Goddess.”
“Boom!” Astrid swung her blade. The slash split the upper and lower levels of the royal hall cleanly in two, the shockwave spreading throughout the fortress.
There was no need for a follow-up strike—any surviving demons inside were surely dead now.
Whether those who had already been wounded survived or not was anyone’s guess.
Teresa knelt on one knee. Her arm—the one that had caught Astrid’s blade—was pale and lifeless from divine corrosion, contrasting starkly with her fair, rosy skin elsewhere.
“Give up, Teresa. You’re no match for me now.” Astrid, with the entire starry sky at her back, withdrew her killing intent and looked at her calmly. “I won’t let you go after Diderlay. Stand down.”
“You’re not his match anymore either,” she said slowly.
“Do you even know why you were tasked with breaking the Demon Realm’s barrier? Or why did it have to be you?”
“The Demon Race originally came from oppressed Light Beings. Their resentment accumulated so heavily it transformed into obsession—a shift from quantity to quality—thus they became demons.”
“In this world, every race is but a strand of hair on the gods’ skin. The so-called Kaleburn Continent is, in truth, a mound of the gods’ bones. The true gods still exist in the body, but their consciousness has long perished.”
“As descendants of the gods, each race represents one god and one aspect of divine power. Yet some aspects, hidden in their expression, lie dormant. His research showed that the demonized are the exact opposite of the Light Beings—perfect reflections that reveal the hidden facets of divine power.”
Teresa didn’t understand why Astrid was explaining this. “So this is why he created the demons?”
“Not entirely. That’s the result, not the purpose.”
“Think about it—if one wishes to become a god, must they not first possess every aspect of divine power?”
“Yet divinity, like the gods themselves, is multifaceted. Mortals perceive only one side of the divine, never the other. That’s why he sought to behold every face of true godhood—and then, to create one.”
“Think about Ruglian’s Demon Realm. After countless wars, they finally achieved peace—only to be thrust into chaos again by greedy traitors among them.”
“He inflicted them with immense suffering, and still they kept dividing—spawning new demon species.”
“I believe his plan was to let the demons experience a long, superficial peace, to let contradictions reach their peak—and then ignite war after war, instantly exposing the tensions hidden by that peace. So the demons would continue to diversify, allowing him to observe the many faces of the divine.”
“That was his ultimate goal—and the reason behind his human experiments.”
“...You’re telling me all this about such a madman, and you’re not denouncing him?”
“I’m not praising him,” Astrid said quietly. “I don’t approve of what he’s done—but I also have no better way.”
“So you’ll just let that lunatic become a ‘god’? Do you know what will happen to the world if he succeeds?”
“He doesn’t want to be god to rule over all life,” Astrid said after a long pause. “Nor to be king.”
“Then why?”
“You’ll soon find out.” Her tone softened. “Talking with me like this—doesn’t time seem to pass quickly?”
“Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon.”
“.........”
Teresa kicked off the ground and leapt skyward, diving down with all her strength.
The clash of metal rang out—spear and moon-blade collided, the force so immense it distorted the space around them.
“Found them! Found them! Sister Teresa and Sister Astrid are right here—eh?!” Yimi and Wenfu, short-legged, arrived on the scene and froze at the sight before them.
“Sister Teresa and Sister Astrid—why are they fighting?!”
“What’s going on?!” Wenfu clutched her head, utterly lost as to whom she should help.
Yimi’s expression twisted. She had thought Teresa was fighting the Demon King, but instead she was battling Astrid. And since when has Astrid become powerful enough to fight Teresa head-on??
Yimi stared in disbelief. The two didn’t look like friends sparring for fun after a victory—they looked like mortal enemies clashing over ideology.
When did two comrades who shared the same bed days ago become opposing forces overnight??
Yimi could tell that Astrid wasn’t the same as before. More than that—the old Astrid could never have turned the entire sky into her Divine Domain.
Was she possessed? But if her ally had been possessed, why hadn’t Yimi, as a Divine Child, sensed anything?
While she was puzzled over this, Felicia also arrived and froze.
She had thought some grand deities were showing their powers—only to realize it was her two teammates.
What on earth had happened? A few days ago, they’d been sleeping side by side—and now they were fighting like mortal enemies?!
The three stood there dumbfounded, watching the battle of gods unfold. They wanted to intervene but feared being vaporized.
A fight on this level wasn’t a joke—a single stray blow could reduce them to dust.
Their weapons clashed again and flew apart. Teresa kicked Astrid in the stomach and was about to follow up when a bolt of lightning split the sky between them.
Looking up, they saw a massive celestial statue of a Holy Maiden staring down with merciful eyes.
Until she destroyed that Divine Authority, there would be no end to this fight.
But her time was running out. If she didn’t stop Diderlay soon, who knew what might happen.
As that thought came, the wind roared violently.
Teresa’s eyes darkened, a layer of crimson wine-like brilliance spreading within them.
Astrid’s brows furrowed.
Reckless fool.
Why wouldn’t she just listen and stay put??
“You can’t use Sacred Oblivion anymore,” Astrid warned, her throat dry.
Teresa ignored her completely, swinging the deep-black halberd in her hands and slashing toward the heavens.
Thunder exploded like a roaring bell.
Teresa’s halberd brushed past the celestial maiden in the sky—and the next instant, the divine statue that towered above was split cleanly in half.
“...Stop me? You? All of you?” Teresa’s hair tips turned ashen gray, her eyes dyed with blood-red madness. The grace she once carried was gone—replaced by pure, hysterical fury.
The corruption had reached its final stage.
Astrid dropped to one knee, her Divine Authority shattered; her face pale, blood dripping from her lips.
Indeed—she could no longer stop Teresa.
But her goal was already achieved.
Teresa could no longer stop Diderlay.
“Diderlay...” Teresa murmured. She knew she had to stop him. Her mind was chaos, filled with dissonant melodies, but sheer will alone drove her onward.
All the seals across Ruglian had been destroyed, leaving a vast, open plain.
Teresa dismissed Sacred Oblivion, hunched slightly, and dashed forward like a golden lightning bolt streaking across the plain.
“Sister Teresa!” The three looked from the injured Astrid to Teresa’s departing form, not knowing whom to follow.
But it didn’t matter—they couldn’t go far anyway. They still had to tend to the “refugees” they’d rescued from the underground barrier prisons beneath the Demon King’s castle.
Teresa hadn’t had time to tell them that those survivors were actually Golden Elf villagers who had been imprisoned there for over four centuries.
Ifan had kept her word—she had indeed done everything possible to save every Golden Elf civilian.
When Teresa returned to Coleman Academy, she was stunned to find it completely empty—as though the entire institution had been evacuated the moment they’d departed.
Perhaps that was for the best.
She didn’t want to harm any innocent people in what was to come.
And surely Diderlay thought the same way.
Hypocrite.
After killing so many elves—so many lives—and yet he still had the audacity to make such pretenses.
Did he think that would cleanse his sins?
Teresa stormed toward the Tower of Sages. The gate wasn’t closed; as always, she simply reached out and entered.
She knew that old bastard Diderlay had done it deliberately—leaving the gate open, waiting for her to come.
He truly wasn’t afraid of her at all.