"My Lord has come?!"
At Fursa's words, the entire square fell into stunned silence.
The cultists all stared at him with wide eyes, convinced they must have misheard.
They knew that on the Godforsaken Continent, no divine miracle had appeared for over ten thousand years—and now Fursa was claiming that the Cult of the End had witnessed a miracle even more extraordinary!
Sensing their doubt, the diminutive Fursa proudly lifted his chin and declared, "You heard me right! Our Lord of the End has descended! And he watches us even now from the chapel in this very town!"
Beside him, Castor piped up with pride, "The outcome of this war is already determined. This is the moment when our Lord tests your loyalty!"
Nara stepped forward as well and said, "My Lord stands within the chapel. Bishop Fursa and I have seen him with our own eyes—you may rest assured."
Tall Quito then growled, "What are you still hesitating for? To fight for our Lord is your greatest honor! Even if you die, our Lord will guide your souls into his divine kingdom!"
Despite Fursa and the others' impassioned speeches to the gathered thousands of cultists, half of the Cult of the End still remained skeptical.
To them, gods walking the earth belonged only in legend—they simply couldn't believe such a thing could be real.
So rather than accept a true descent of divinity, they suspected Fursa and the bishops had tricked them into a suicide mission.
Just as the leaders began to grow exasperated at their followers' intransigence, a ripple of unrest ran through the plaza.
The bishops followed their flock's gaze…
And saw a young man in a white robe, handsome and composed, strolling toward them.
It was Dusk, freshly emerged from the chapel!
Fursa and Nara's faces went pale; they dropped to their knees at once.
Fursa cried out in nervous reverence, "My Lord—why have you come yourself? This trivial matter could have been handled by us!"
His words sparked an uproar among the cultists.
Every eye in the square fixed on Dusk, disbelief shining in their gaze.
This is… the Lord of the End? He seems just like an ordinary man!
Dusk took in their expressions and, with calm assurance, said, "I came simply to see how faithful my believers truly are."
Expecting cultists to be unwavering was like expecting pigs to grow wings.
If he hadn't shown up to assert his presence, before even meeting the Cult of the Dawn in battle, these curs would have scattered like frightened sheep.
Shame washed over Fursa's face as he murmured, "It is I who have failed to guide the faithful. I beg your punishment, my Lord!"
Dusk said nothing. He raised the Scepter of the End in his hand—and the dark-red, diamond-shaped crystal at its tip flared to life with a crimson glow!
Boom!
A scarlet bolt of lightning tore through the sky as the savage power of the End unleashed itself!
In an instant, the world shifted, and a terrifying pressure swept over the entire town!
Watching the stunned cultists in the square, Dusk's eyes gleamed with chilling intent as he said, "Tell me—if you do not worship me, what use are you worthless vermin?"
A murderous aura washed over them, and every breath in the plaza halted.
The air held its breath for a moment, then with a collective clamor, all the cultists fell to their knees.
They bowed their heads in the utmost devotion and cried out in unison, "We are ready to give our lives for our Lord!!"
At this point, no one dared question Dusk's identity—nobody in their right mind would.
Part of their obedience stemmed from fear of death, but another part came from an astonishing realization.
The higher the tier of a sealing relic, the greater its power—but also the harsher its use conditions and the more agonizing its cost.
The Scepter of the End demanded it consume part of its wielder's flesh and blood whenever its power was invoked—an unavoidable sacrifice.
Yet they saw that when Dusk used the Scepter, nothing happened to him!
That one fact could only mean one thing.
He… was not human!
...
Elsewhere, in the carriage, Bishop Victor of the Cult of the Dawn sensed something at almost the same moment.
He looked toward the town, his expression grave. "It's the Scepter of the End's aura."
He was well acquainted with that forbidden relic and knew full well its destructive might.
But since they dared approach, they had naturally prepared for this.
The Imperial War God Isaac said, "You brought your Cult's 'Angel's Feather,' yes?"
Victor nodded slightly. With a wave of his hand, a golden feather—its sheen like burnished gold—appeared in his palm.
He said, "Give me half an hour, and I will seal this place."
"Very well." Isaac allowed himself a moment's relief.
The Angel's Feather was the Cult of the Dawn's Tier-3 sealing relic and one of their most vital artifacts. It could suppress destructive forces within a twenty-kilometer radius for ten minutes—just enough to counter the Scepter of the End.
With it, dealing with the Cult of the End would be far easier.
...
Dusk and the others observed the scene outside the town in full.
Knowing time was short, he quelled the restless cultists and handed other matters temporarily to Fursa.
Then Dusk departed Talros Town with Nara, determined to seize that Tiered Sealing Relic first.
They crossed the cracked stone streets and left the town behind.
A gentle breeze stirred the grass beneath a vast blue sky that stretched unbroken in every direction.
At the center of this plain lay Water-Spirit Lake—a mirror of glimmering gold set into the earth.
A few crested antelopes bent their necks to drink, the scene peaceful and serene.
But as they approached, Dusk sensed that something was very wrong.
"This antelope… isn't it a bit too large?!"
Dusk's mouth twitched as he beheld a colossal creature nearly two stories tall.
According to Nara, these beasts were called "Monsters"—supernatural creatures empowered by divine essence, just like human adepts. They were classified by rank into Low Tier, Mid Tier, High Tier, Super Tier, and Transcendent Tier.
Even the lowest-grade Monster was more than a match for any ordinary person, which was why demonic disasters were the most common catastrophes on the Godforsaken Continent.
"My Lord need not lift a finger. Leave these Monsters to me," Nara declared, thumping her fuller chest with confidence.
She lifted her hand, and in an instant a skull-topped staff carved from what looked like white jade materialized in her grasp.
With a casual flick, ghostly green flames coalesced into serpentine shapes, their fanged jaws snapping as they lunged at the dazed giant antelopes.
The Monsters scarcely had time to react before the serpents coiled around them.
Boom!!
The eerie green fire erupted, consuming the massive beasts in the blink of an eye.
They didn't even manage a scream—under the inferno, they were reduced to ash.
Other Monsters on the plains froze in shock, then scattered in all directions, each one fleeing faster than the last.
Nara retracted her skull staff as if nothing remarkable had occurred.
She turned to Dusk with a smile. "My Lord, the obstacle has been cleared. Let us proceed."
Dusk glanced at the smoldering ashes on the ground, momentarily at a loss for words.
He had known that as the Holy Maiden of the Cult of the End, Nara would be no mere ornament—but seeing her casually slaughter titanic beasts still startled him.
Indeed, the supernatural powers in this world were truly extraordinary.
He resolved that he, too, would have to find a way to acquire a supernatural profession…
With the Monsters routed, Dusk and Nara soon reached the shore of Water-Spirit Lake.
The sunlit water shimmered with crystalline clarity, the underwater plants plainly visible.
Raymond had told him the relic lay somewhere within this lake.
He couldn't afford to dally—if another creature appeared, he would be killed on the spot.
"There's something in the lake. Go fetch it for me," he instructed.
"Something in the lake?" Nara looked surprised, but wisely asked no further questions.
As she neared the water, a soft green glow enveloped her form.
In moments, she stepped into the lake and vanished beneath the surface, the ripples quickly smoothing out.
Just then, Dusk sensed a shift in his mind.
The Parchment drifted into view before him.
[It seems you have made the right choice. Trust me, this parting gift will not disappoint.]
[Now, if you are willing to make a trade, I can provide you with the knowledge of a top-tier supernatural profession.]
[All you need to offer is a soul of sufficient strength.]
[For example, the soul of a Transcendent-tier adept.]
Staring at the lines of ancient script floating before him, Dusk's gaze turned cold. With a flick of his hand, he dispersed the Parchment without hesitation.
This feeling—being manipulated—was intolerable. Downright revolting.
Only an idiot would keep trading with that thing.
I'll take the Sequence Item from Water-Spirit Lake and leave.
By the time you realize what happened, you won't even have a place to cry.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, gentle ripples began to spread across the surface of Water-Spirit Lake.
He didn't have to wait long. Nara's graceful figure soon emerged from the water.
In her hand, she held a bronze box draped in lake weeds and streaked with rust.
"My Lord, this is all I found at the bottom of the lake," she said, handing it to him.
Dusk took it and examined the box. Intricate carvings and arcane patterns were etched across its weathered surface, giving it an air of ancient mystery.
He opened it carefully.
The embroidered cloth inside had long since decayed, but resting atop it was a bizarrely shaped bronze mask.
Jagged fangs jutted outward. Its grotesque features radiated a chilling aura.
As Dusk laid his palm against it, the mask felt icy and heavy to the touch.
It was a Bronze Ghost Mask.
"A Tiered Sealing Relic?!" Nara's eyes lit up in recognition. She could tell immediately that the mask was no ordinary artifact.
And not just any relic, either.
She could feel it—an energy no less potent than that of the The End staff pulsed from within it.
At minimum, this was a Tier 3 Sealing Relic.
And possibly… even higher.