"I don't believe her."
After returning to their room, the Mad Monk couldn't wait to say, "Honey, acting all upright and innocent, emphasizing one's harmlessness, then striking with a backhanded blow—I have used this kind of script to the point where I don't even bother using it anymore."
Slurp, slurp. Nol held a cup of flame scale juice, leisurely sipping it.
The rich sweetness made him feel much better. Perradat reinforced the knowledge seal in his head again. These days, his mind had rarely been so clear.
"The Creator and the created beings—you and me."
In front of Nol, Teest was still grumbling discontentedly. He seemed not to like Perradat's eager help. "She's implying that, in the end, you and I are the most dangerous opponents. If you ask me… Ngh!"
Nol kissed him.
Teest temporarily closed his mouth, tasting the unique sweetness of the flame scale fruit from his lover's lips. Nol kissed gently, with a soothing taste.
But that wouldn't divert his attention, Teest thought seriously.
Perradat felt like a palm-sized spider that had sneaked into the bedroom. At first glance, it obediently lay there; at the second glance, it was gone without a trace. Who knew when it might appear again—you knew it was beneficial to you, you knew it was likely not to harm you, but that didn't prevent this cunning thing from making you uncomfortable.
It was his bedroom, his territory!
"Whether what she said is true or not, one thing is certain. She wants us to be completely hostile to Star Stealer Sol."
Nol leaned his forehead was against Teest's. "Before that, she could help us stabilize the knowledge seal. For now, I will only acknowledge this deal."
And Perradat bound Lilith, which was tantamount to indirectly binding Lynn, and Lynn was an indispensable manager of the Lost Tower. Nol didn't believe this was a mere coincidence.
The loser in the struggle for the divine throne was far from as simple as they thought.
Suppose it was Star Stealer Sol who lost the battle of the two gods. Now, standing in their opposition, it might had been Perradat herself—if they were talking about the sincerity of the deal, as long as Nol was willing to "sacrifice", it wasn't impossible to deal with Star Stealer Sol's side.
It was just a matter of where one's loyalties lay.
How realistic. Everyone was coveting that vacant divine throne.
Unfortunately, Nol had already decided he wouldn't easily sacrifice for anything.
Oh, among the many False God candidates, there was also one who forgot about the divine throne—Teest looked him up and down, and after a long time, he exhaled.
"I originally thought you would be more ambitious." Nol couldn't help teasing him. "Don't you want to become the Supreme God?"
"Then what?" Teest bared his teeth to him. "To establish a bunch of temples, listen to people sourly singing praises for me, praying for wealth, power, and love? When it comes to power—a life without any challenging goals is amazingly uninteresting to think about."
After saying that, he frowned. "Pulling down the gods I dislike from their thrones, I admit, is attractive. But after that, it seems boring. Thinking this way, I'd rather have a Supreme God I recognize…"
It was rare for Teest to speak so candidly. Nol's heart softened. He was just about to speak when he heard the second half—
"…So I can pull him down from the divine throne, and he himself can sit back on it. There's an exchange, never lacking in fun—ouch! Don't hit my forehead!"
Nol expressionlessly retracted his head.
"And what I want is the truth, truth, truth. Just that simple, honey."
Teest rubbed the light red mark on his forehead, murmuring. "It turns out, this is the most tempting issue now—"
"Why Star Stealer Sol insists on opposing, instead of bowing down to cooperate like Loser."
"Why you have a knowledge seal, how exactly you created this world, and how your compatriots got involved."
At this point, Teest's voice paused slightly.
"Why I, a 'native', am so special. Why I met you… How intriguing, isn't it?"
The sweetness in Nol's mouth faded.
He suddenly felt a bit at a loss. Hesitating for a few seconds, Nol still decisively said, "If everything is my plan, what do you plan to do?"
Teest made a long "um—", and took another hard look at Nol.
"You advance, and I retreat. You retreat, and I advance. Dancing requires two people to be interesting."
"You ask me what to do? Of course, to completely surpass your expectations, Lord Nol."
An answer that was unexpected yet made perfect sense.
Nol thought for a moment, then leaned in to kiss the spot on Teest's forehead where they had collided earlier.
Teest moved his fingers, and Nol then noticed a golden thread had appeared on his wrist at some point.
'Let's keep going like this,' he thought. Regardless of the plan or lack thereof, this would be a grand adventure. This time, they could hunt together, hunting for a prey known as "Star Stealer Sol".
Where better to start than this?
...
The sun was about to set.
Eugene Malloy, as usual, sat in his room, reviewing the mountain of files one by one.
He had spent his entire private holiday investigating the case of the "Oracle Sacrificial Array on Dream Island being activated", along with the subsequent war reports from the Claw Scar Mountains. He could almost be certain that it was Drake and his group's doing—moreover, this time, Godfrey Painter was undeniably involved.
His report was completed. A thick stack was gathering dust in the drawer. Eugene hadn't submitted them, knowing the Temple wouldn't deal with it.
Because on the very day he completed his report, the title of "Envoy of the Goddess of Life" for Drake had spread.
Beside the Dracolich, a powerful minion of the newly born Demon King appeared. The Goddess descended in front of many Players, personally declaring Drake as her absolute envoy.
To his knowledge, this descent of the Goddess even abruptly ended a system quest, and the minion of the newly born Demon King was expelled on the spot. The Players present received the opportunity to cooperate with the dragons, a significant progress.
Hero Drake was visiting the Dragon's Lair and hadn't appeared to this day.
Hero Drake, the absolute envoy of the Goddess.
Eugene didn't feel any emotion related to "jealousy". On the contrary, he was relieved. Yes, that was how it should be. Such a formidable existence should serve as the sword in the hands of the Goddess, not a destabilizing factor wandering the world.
Remember, God said, God loves order and peace.
God said, think for yourself, discern for yourself, and carve out your own path. Life and goodwill are always worth praising.
Eugene knelt on one knee towards the direction of the sun, his lips touching the divine emblem on his ring, praying devoutly. It was undoubtedly the Goddess Tilia. He only wished he could have been there in person to witness the glory of the Goddess.
However, if he were to speak of other regrets, he did have some.
"Supreme Lady Tilia." Eugene whispered, "Thank you for your envoy guiding the traitor back into the light… After learning of this, I wished to personally guide him back and was discontented with the current situation. Please forgive my dark thoughts."
Indeed, Painter couldn't escape the life written for him by fate. Godfrey Painter, indeed, belonged to the Temple of Life. He was destined to praise the glory of God.
'Perhaps there was still room for his own intervention,' Eugene thought.
Painter might still be wavering. Perhaps he didn't expect Drake to be the Goddess's envoy… If so, there might still be a chance for him to personally bring that person back to the Temple…
"Please forgive my discontent and selfishness. I will serve you more purely," Eugene continued to pray.
[I forgive you.]
A gentle voice suddenly sounded from the statue, ethereal and full of divinity.
Above the prayer altar, the Goddess statue shone with a holy, soft white light.
The shock was too great. Eugene hadn't reacted yet and had already knelt down properly.
[I have always watched over you, my child,] the voice said. [Where there is light, there will be darkness. This world needs heroes before the masses, as well as knights who stand firm in the shadows.]
[I know your devotion and bravery. Hero Drake will become the pointer of the new world, and you will become the sword and shield in the war. Here, I bestow upon you the god-slaying sword "Dominator". It is destined to be part of your fate.]
[Prove your soul, my knight.]
"I will uphold order and peace, life and goodwill."
No matter how fierce the battle, Eugene had never been nervous. At this moment, however, his back was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and he could hear his own heartbeat.
"I will not disappoint you, my eternal God."
The Goddess spoke no more.
The soft light on the statue gently pulsed, like a breath, a heartbeat, or a satisfied sigh.
The glow of the setting sun shone through the window bars, casting a golden-red hue over the altar.
In this warm glow, the light gradually brightened. On the altar, the light outlined a beautiful longsword. It was warm and golden-red. Although the sunset had the same colors, it made one think of the hopeful dawn.
An unfathomable power surged within the blade. Undoubtedly, it was a divine creation.
Eugene didn't reach for the sword immediately. He gently gazed at the statue until its radiant light completely faded away. As the sun set and night spread, the room still seemed bathed in sunlight, the blade shimmering with splendid brilliance.
When the stars filled the sky, Eugene finally stood up. He picked up the sword with both hands, feeling the pulsing power in his palms—it was even warm, as if it possessed its own life.
Knight Eugene decisively swung the long sword the "Dominator" drawing a bright trajectory through the air, leaving behind spark-like glitters. As soon as the thought "too bright" barely crossed Eugene's mind, the sword settled down, leaving him holding only a beautifully unparalleled metal longsword—beautiful, but not as blinding as before.
Eugene held the sword with both hands, pressing it to his heart.
The god-slaying sword.
He would use it to behead the False God.
"I will never disappoint you, Lady Tilia."
He bowed his head, kissing the warm blade with utmost devotion.
Just a wall away.
"Young people sure can kneel for a long time. It wouldn't hurt to put it away sooner."
Painter emerged from the shadows, rubbing his stiff back—thanks to "Star Stealer Sol", he was getting better at impersonating the Goddess of Life.
Silly brat, so easily deceived even after all these years that it's tear-inducing.
A sword capable of slaying gods must contain the power of the system and was extremely precious. Painter knew that the "Dominator" being in Eugene's hands was just a matter of time.
This was clear to Painter, and he believed Nol understood as well—unless the sword stayed with Teest, Star Stealer Sol would definitely learn of its whereabouts. Yet, Nol still gave the sword to him, even personally strengthening it.
Just so "Nol and Teest" wouldn't hold a power that was absolute it would bring despair.
Naturally, he wouldn't betray Nol's trust. Painter stretched lazily. If he kept the sword himself, Star Stealer Sol would definitely try every means to take it back. But if it ended up with Eugene, that might not necessarily be the case.
Eugene himself was fated to "slay the False God". One more sword or one less, his oracle wouldn't change because of it. At this moment, he was like a weapon coated in deadly poison, unknowingly who would wield it and whom it would strike down.
Now they all knew. Oracles could be interpreted in countless ways. Until the midnight bell tolled, anything was possible.
For Star Stealer Sol, Eugene could naturally become a loyal pawn of it.
After all, Painter's disguise was only temporary. Star Stealer Sol was the true "Goddess of Life", the nominal master of Knight Eugene. Well, rather than Star Stealer Sol taking the risk of acting out and reclaiming the sword, it was better to leave it in Eugene's hands.
This was assuming that his deductions about Star Stealer Sol were correct, Painter thought. From this moment on, the "Dominator" would truly belong to Knight Eugene.
It was just a mortal playing a game with the gods. Painter smirked. This was more thrilling than he imagined.
"I really entrust my hopes to you, my child. May you walk the path of light."
Painter rubbed his temples, leaning against the cold wall. He took a long breath. "I believe you won't disappoint me."
But now, the question arose, where should poor Godfrey Painter go?
His mercenary group would definitely attract Star Stealer Sol's attention… Hmm, maybe it's time to lay low in Paradise again. Lord Nol's place is quite spacious.
It was also a testament to trust and loyalty! Hmm, maybe he should pilfer something from the church on the way, for a greetings gift… Painter casually grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, crunching away.
He walked towards the door, magic swirling around him. When he left, Mr. Painter had transformed into a bashful, curly-haired monk. He lowered his head, quickly walking deeper into the church. He brushed past Knight Eugene just as he was stepping out the door.
One looking up with a resolute gaze, the other lowering his face, hiding the smile in his eyes. They nodded politely to each other, walking in opposite directions.
"Have you heard? The famed 'Golden Sword' announced he's taking a long-term hiatus. He said he has personal matters to attend to." Painter had just turned the corner when he overheard two Investigation Knights chatting.
"Personal matters? I heard he injured his eye. If even the Alva Merchant Group can't cure it, it must be a wound caused by powerful dark magic," another knight responded.
Painter slowed his steps and perked up his ears.
"Maybe he just doesn't want to accompany Duke Alva's madness. Lately, they've been frantically searching for a girl with blue eyes. Someone like Golden Sword who's bent on doing the right thing definitely doesn't want to get involved… They say his last stop was near the Black Forest of Grape Collar. Where do you think he went?"
"Speculating is useless. Only he knows what happened. There's no order to monitor him for now. Let Henry put the information in the 'not important' column."
"Indeed."
...
In the heart of the city, in a cellar at the edge of the lower district.
A thin, middle-aged man was reading by candlelight. He was wearing round glasses and tied back his long gray hair. He appeared to be in his forties or fifties, clean-shaven, with the marks of time on his cheeks, yet still retained the handsomeness of his youth.
He didn't have any remarkable equipment on him, just wearing a long robe of a sage, stained with numerous ink spots. In the flickering candlelight, he gathered his slender fingers and briskly wrote something.
His handwriting was sharp and beautiful, almost print-like in its neatness.
Suddenly, the man stopped writing.
Beside him, a silver bell spontaneously rang. Within the ripples of sound, a letter gradually materialized. The envelope was simple, with only a flamboyant signature—
[Dorothy]
The man calmly opened the letter, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Half a minute later, he put down his pen and picked up a staff beside him. With two firm taps, a magical screen opened beside him.
"Mentor." On the other side of the screen, a similarly intellectual female Player greeted him.
"Find Solo and also inform his sister, Anakin," "Mentor" said calmly. "A minor field research task, requiring the protection of the Saints Guild. Just say that."
The female Player on the other side paused. "Solo is too young. If you're looking for a research assistant…"
"I want that kid. Once we arrive, he will surely understand what's going on," "Mentor" said with a slight smile. "Sorry for disturbing you this late."
"You're too polite. I'll make sure to inform them by morning." The Player dressed like a lady nodded.
The screen had snapped off, and the room returned to the dimness of candlelight.
"Mentor" stood up and walked to the wardrobe. He sifted through the dusty robes, selecting a set of formal gentleman's attire. As he moved, a sheet of draft paper that was stuck to the wardrobe fell to the floor.
The leader of "Hermitage"—Mr. Mentor sighed. He tucked the staff under his arm and bent down to pick up the paper.
Amidst the flickering candlelight, not just the wardrobe but the walls, the bedboard, the desk, and even the ceiling were all covered with densely packed draft papers filled with text and calculations, many of which were in other people's handwriting.
The shelves were filled with various specimens: plants, animals, soil, water samples. The remaining spaces were crammed with assorted alchemical equipment. The room was a chaotic yet orderly mess, evoking a paradoxical sense of fullness and emptiness.
"The truth of the world…"
Picking up the draft paper, Mentor closed the wardrobe and leisurely stuck it back in its place. This paper was covered with diagrams, with most sentences ending in question marks.
"I was worried that I had no material. This letter came at just the right time. Since they specifically asked for me, I hope Paradise will have some interesting topics."
Mentor hung up his only formal attire and dusted it. The fabric emitted a peculiar, acrid smell of alchemical materials, which he had decided not to treat further.
"Let's hope it's not 'the world is real' kind of known information," he muttered. "I need more in-depth data. For instance, what could defy the laws of evolution and create a real world in a short time…"
Having said that, he smiled to himself.
The author has something to say:
Teest watching the throne of the highest god is like:
A cat that screams madly when the door is closed but refuses to enter when it's opened (.
Perradat & Star Stealer Sol: Take it.
Nol: The authority of destruction is like this.