The Rift trembled.
Mountains cracked.
Rivers reversed their flow.
The sky itself groaned beneath the pressure.
Far above the battlefield—
A colossal hand emerged from the shattered heavens.
It was impossible to describe.
The hand seemed both near and infinitely distant.
Small enough to fit within the sky.
Large enough to cover the world.
Reality distorted around it.
Space folded.
Light bent.
Even time seemed unstable.
The moment it appeared—
The Cult Leader fell to both knees.
Tears streamed down his face.
"My Lord..."
"My Lord..."
"My Lord..."
His voice shook with fanatic devotion.
The Qilin Spirit stared upward.
Its expression darkened.
"Tch."
"Troublesome."
For the first time since possessing Lyra—
It no longer appeared relaxed.
The hand continued descending.
Slowly.
Relentlessly.
The pressure alone shattered every remaining building in the village.
Even unconscious Ascendants began bleeding.
The Qilin Spirit glanced at Lyra's body.
Its crimson eyes softened slightly.
"This vessel has reached its limit."
Cracks had begun appearing across Lyra's skin.
Tiny at first.
Then larger.
Like porcelain breaking apart.
The Qilin Spirit sighed.
"A pity."
Then it looked toward the sky.
Toward the descending hand.
Toward the impossible being beyond reality.
Its grip tightened around the spear.
The heavens darkened.
The wind stopped.
The world held its breath.
Then—
The Qilin Spirit slowly raised the spear.
Ancient runes ignited throughout the sky.
Mountains trembled.
Rivers evaporated.
The shattered battlefield became illuminated by crimson light.
A gigantic Qilin manifested behind Lyra.
No.
Not behind her.
Behind the world itself.
The phantom was so large that it seemed capable of trampling heaven and earth.
Its eyes contained countless stars.
Its breath birthed storms.
Its roar shook reality.
The Cult Leader's smile disappeared.
Even he understood.
This attack would decide everything.
The Qilin Spirit closed its eyes.
Then whispered.
"Heavenly Qilin Sovereign Art..."
The spear began glowing.
The light became brighter.
And brighter.
And brighter.
Until even the sun seemed dim in comparison.
Then—
The Qilin Spirit opened its eyes.
"Emperor's Final Decree."
The spear pierced the heavens.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!
The world exploded.
A pillar of crimson light surged upward.
The colossal Qilin roared.
Then charged.
Straight toward the descending hand.
The collision occurred.
For one brief moment—
Nothing happened.
Then—
Everything happened.
The sky shattered.
The clouds vanished.
Mountains collapsed.
The entire Rift trembled as though it might break apart.
A sea of crimson and black engulfed the heavens.
Shockwaves spread for hundreds of kilometers.
The battlefield disappeared beneath endless light.
The Cult Leader was blown backward.
The altar shattered.
Every remaining cultist was sent flying.
The world screamed.
And then—
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The hand had stopped.
Its descent halted.
A massive crack stretched across its surface.
The Qilin Spirit stared upward.
Then laughed.
A proud laugh.
The laugh of an emperor.
"Even weakened..."
"This Sovereign remains this Sovereign."
CRACK.
A new crack appeared.
Not on the hand.
On Lyra's body.
Then another.
And another.
The Qilin Spirit looked down.
The vessel had reached its limit.
The attack had consumed everything.
The ancient being remained silent for several seconds.
Then sighed.
"I'm sorry, child."
Its voice carried genuine regret.
"This is all I can do."
The giant Qilin behind it slowly began fading.
The crimson light weakened.
The Spirit looked toward the distant river.
Its eyes narrowed.
Then—
For the first time—
A smile appeared.
"Oh?"
"Interesting."
A strange presence had begun emerging from beneath the river.
Ancient.
Terrifying.
Yet unfamiliar.
The Qilin Spirit observed it for a moment.
Then nodded.
"I sense another great power."
"I only hope it is not hostile."
The crimson aura left Lyra's body.
Like countless stars drifting away.
The black eyes disappeared.
The crimson hair returned to normal.
Then—
Lyra collapsed.
Unconscious.
The battlefield became quiet.
The Cult Leader slowly rose to his feet.
Half his robes had been destroyed.
Deep wounds covered his body.
Blood dripped continuously from countless injuries.
Yet he remained alive.
The crack upon the giant hand slowly healed.
The Cult Leader looked toward the heavens.
Then smiled.
"My Lord..."
"Your power remains unmatched."
He slowly turned.
His gaze swept across the battlefield.
The unconscious Association members.
The wounded cultists.
The broken village.
Then finally—
Lyra.
Lying defenseless upon the ground.
The Cult Leader slowly walked toward her.
Step.
Step.
Step.
No one could stop him.
The Team Leader remained unconscious.
Mira remained unconscious.
Darius remained unconscious.
The Qilin Spirit had vanished.
Everything was over.
The Cult Leader stood before Lyra.
Looking down at her.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"You fought well."
For the first time—
His praise was genuine.
Then he slowly raised his hand.
"Rest now."
Just as he was about to strike—
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
The river exploded.
Water erupted into the heavens.
The entire Rift shook violently.
The Cult Leader's expression changed.
For the first time since his introduction—
Fear appeared.
A terrifying pressure swept across the battlefield.
Far stronger than a Transcendent.
Far older than a Transcendent.
The Cult Leader was forced backward.
His feet carved trenches through the earth.
"What..."
His voice trembled.
The water continued rising.
A gigantic pillar connecting earth and heaven.
At its center—
A silhouette slowly emerged.
The sky darkened.
The winds screamed.
Even the giant hand beyond the heavens paused.
The Cult Leader stared.
Disbelief filling his eyes.
Then—
For the first time in centuries—
He felt something he thought he had forgotten.
Fear.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
The figure stepped out from the collapsing river.
And the entire Rift fell silent.
End