Chapter 221: The Darker the Night, the Brighter the Stars

(Extra chapter, extra chapter, tomorrow will be the same, still an extra chapter)

A pitch-black domain has shrouded the entire Royal Capital, encompassing every living thing within its reach. Having claimed the vast soul of the Perfectionist and seized the divine corpse as its vessel, the God of Fear is now unimaginably powerful.

Unlike the "Divine Kingdom" of before, which expanded slowly while harvesting fear to strengthen itself, the God of Fear now unleashes its power, forcibly dragging the souls of all inhabitants into its own realm.

In every corner of the Royal Capital, people have collapsed in heaps. Great knights, grand mages, and commoners alike share the same fate; before the God of Fear, their souls and wills are simply too insignificant.

Dead silence. A profound, absolute silence. No sound remains within the city; within the Divine Kingdom, all is hushed. A sea of returning void—a silent, merciless, and egalitarian ocean—has submerged them all.

Thin, wispy threads emerge from the bodies of the fallen, stretching upward toward the God of Fear, who occupies the divine corpse. These are the manifestations of power born from the ever-growing, ever-spreading essence of fear.

"How much longer until the end! I don't want this, I don't want this, let me die, please let me die!"

"No, no, is anyone there? Anyone? I beg you, kill me..."

"Wuwuwu, why, why can't I just lose consciousness? It’s so hopeless, the numbness—let me be numb!"

The desperate wails of souls echo through this space, manifesting as surging black mists that wander and cycle within the God of Fear’s domain.

In that bottomless, endlessly sinking sea of silence, time is stretched to a distorted scale. Every second in the material world may feel like an hour to those whose souls have been dragged inside.

There is only silence, an eternal sinking. In this ocean, save for a sliver of dim, dark light far above, one can see only the endless, abyssal darkness below.

Perhaps the souls drowning here might fantasize about terrifying sea monsters lurking in the depths, feeling a flicker of fear—but perhaps such delusions are the only thing that makes their existence slightly more bearable.

For the true horror of this ocean is not the unknown, nor the danger, but the eternal, solitary emptiness that is visible at a single glance.

Souls will drift forever in this void, tormented by isolation and despair, perpetually fearing a future that has no end.

Some pray for the numbness that follows despair, but it is denied to them. The power of the God of Fear repairs these souls as they verge on collapse, maintaining their capacity for thought and their sensitivity to the outside, ensuring they "live well."

Some seek to drown in their own inner worlds, attempting to flee this eternal cage of silence through memory and fantasy, but it is futile.

When the body still existed, the soul could curl up within it, sheltered by the shell of the self and the home-like vessel, maintaining a fragile, imagined world.

But now, stripped of their bodies, the souls are laid bare and cast into this sea of sinking. They cannot even retreat into their own minds; their consciousness is uncontrollably drawn to the ocean, and they fall into panic and despair at its eternal, monotonous stillness.

The power of fear is climbing. It is unknown how many survivors remain within the Royal Capital, but they, too, are marching toward extinction at a rapid pace.

Above the Royal Palace, a gorgeous, translucent silk canopy has manifested, forming a ring of protection. The Banner of Inthemis, Aleister’s ultimate defensive measure, nullifies everything: physical, magical, spiritual, and even divine arts.

Yet even this great banner, with its soft glow and intricate, flower-like patterns of dense magic circuits and runes, is gradually dimming under the erosion of the God of Fear’s domain. It is only a matter of time before this final bulwark shatters and falls.

Beneath the shadows of the Royal Capital, all other districts have already collapsed. Every resident has been dragged into the God of Fear’s sea of silence, transformed into a living generator of fear, their souls constantly producing the terror that nourishes the God of Fear as it continues to grow and expand its reach.

Only the Night Church, protected by the tiny dome raised by the Lady of the Night, struggles to hold on under the erosion of the God of Fear. That divine power, not particularly strong to begin with, is teetering under the crushing weight of the deity.

"My dear believers, I may be unable to respond to your prayers for a time. Before that happens, I will convert all my power into a sanctuary. I do not know how long it will hold, but please, do not abandon hope."

"I have often watched over you, and I have witnessed your deeds. Because of this, I love and believe in you. If there is a chance to wake, I hope to see you again. Please remember: the darker the night, the brighter the stars."

The followers of the Lady of the Night look on with trembling faces as the sanctuary, suppressed by the God of Fear, continues to shrink. They pray incessantly, pleading for the Lady’s strength.

Avia’s face is deathly pale. Perhaps the believers think the Lady of the Night is as powerful as those ancient, long-standing deities.

But the girl knows that the Lady’s power, compared to a true veteran god, is laughably small—like a newborn infant facing an adult.

Just as the believers huddle toward the center, praying and using the power the Lady previously bestowed to protect themselves, her voice appears in the mind of every believer present, calm yet firm.

"It’s the Lady’s voice! Has She responded to our prayers again?"

"Thank goodness, a goddess as generous as the Lady of the Night would never abandon us! The domain of the night has grown!"

"No, no, I can't feel the prayer network anymore. We’ve lost contact with the Lady."

"Re-really... how could this happen!"

"No... no, could it be..."

At the first sound of the Lady’s voice, the believers were filled with heartfelt joy, and seeing the sanctuary suddenly expand, they were even more elated—surely, the Lady would not forsake them.

But as they realized the implications of Her words, panic began to set in.

They felt the connection to the prayer network sever, followed by a strange, hollow void in their hearts. The object of their faith had vanished.

"Lady Darkness..."

Avia whispered the name that only she and Wang Yu knew, a sense of sorrow permeating her soul.

...

"Mr. Garcia, our connection to the prayer network is broken. Divine arts are currently unusable, and our link to the Night’s Edge in the Royal Capital has been completely severed."

"The magitech communication devices were jammed long ago, and now the only remaining link, the prayer network, is gone. Furthermore, it seems our connection to the Lady of the Night has also vanished."

Riding a pure-blooded warhorse, whipping the reins to drive his mount at top speed back to the capital, Garcia listened to Kevin’s report over the magitech device, his expression turning ghastly.

Following the divine descent in Aleister and the unstoppable ritual in the capital of Sewentan, this Aleister expeditionary force had been racing back with desperate urgency.

They should have been returning in triumph after a crushing victory, but not a single soldier wore a look of relief. The ritual in Sewentan and the intelligence from Aleister made it clear how perilous the situation had become.

As a Great Knight and commander, Garcia, along with several other elite knights, rode the finest horses in the army—mounts that had been fed life-potential-activating potions—as the vanguard rushing toward the capital.

The soldiers had briefly breathed a sigh of relief knowing the capital had successfully unleashed one of its final weapons, the "Divine Corpse of the End." At the very least, it bought them time.

But just moments ago, all news from the capital had ceased.

The final message from the prayer network was:

"The God of Fear has claimed the divine corpse. All members of the Night’s Edge have launched a suicide charge. Please hasten your return; the Royal Capital is in mortal danger."

"The God of Fear... why this cursed thing?"

Garcia spurred his horse into a wild gallop, but the deepening despair in his heart could not be wiped away.

As one who had guarded the Fog Forest with Avia’s aunt, Lilia, and as a student of Father Fang, he knew the nature of the God of Fear all too well.

Its destructive power was not inherently great, but its infectious and near-impossible-to-eradicate nature made it uniquely dangerous. Give it a suitable environment, and it would spread endlessly. Fear is one of the most terrifying plagues of all.

Garcia dared not imagine the speed at which the God of Fear, now possessing the divine corpse, would expand. He feared that upon reaching the borders of Aleister, he would find his homeland completely consumed by the God’s domain.

"It’s too late. The distance is too great. Our speed... it’s not enough. Half a day is the limit. Beyond that..."

He muttered to himself, knowing full well that hope was slim. They were still more than a day away, and time was simply not on their side.

"Reinforcements from the Tower of the Spellbound are on their way to Aleister, Mr. Garcia. Someone is specifically asking for you."

"They shouldn't be far from your position, about fifteen kilometers to the east. Go quickly; they are preparing an arcane jump. It should be able to bring your group to the kingdom's border, cutting the travel time in half."

The message from the communicator stunned Garcia for a moment. Then, he whipped his horse, ordering the team to head toward the location of the Tower’s reinforcements. Cutting the time in half—it was still tight, but hope had not yet flickered out.

...

Inside the Royal Capital of Aleister, perhaps the only one not affected by the God of Fear’s domain, Wang Yu found his own situation was hardly any better.

The surrounding black domain had truly blotted out the light. Wang Yu couldn't see a thing; he could only run through the pitch-black city by relying on ripples and his five senses.

"Bang!"

Failing to react in time, Wang Yu slammed into a wall at a corner. Bricks shattered, a large hole opened in the wall, and Wang Yu stumbled back two steps. It wasn't a serious injury, but this wasn't the first time.

"Damn it! It never ends!"

With a curse, Wang Yu continued to run. Within the pitch-black domain of the God of Fear, reality had been twisted. It was silent, dark, and lightless; even the flow and vibration of the air were gradually being erased.

Wang Yu felt as if he were running through a pitch-black cave back on Earth, never knowing when he might hit a wall again.

Moreover, the knight’s keen senses were failing him, making it increasingly difficult to discern direction or evade obstacles within this expanse.

The only thing unaffected was Wang Yu’s ripple, which, no longer bolstered by the Void, now possessed an effective range of a mere two meters.

This ripple, however, remained immune to the God of Fear’s influence, as ever capable of revealing what lay in the unknown path ahead.

Yet, this immunity was relative; the ripple probed everything it touched and fed that information back to Wang Yu.

And right now, Wang Yu’s mind was struggling to keep up, for ninety-nine percent of the feedback consisted of nothing but meaningless, frenzied screams and wails.

These were the terrified shrieks of souls dragged into the Sea of Dead Silence, their spectral lamentations echoing and layering within the God of Fear’s divine realm, intensifying as more fear was birthed.

To Wang Yu, the feedback from his ripple was becoming increasingly saturated with these hollow, agonizing cries.

Yes, for him, these sounds—enough to drive a normal man to madness—could not touch his spirit in the slightest.

But this cacophony of meaningless noise drowned out the information he truly needed regarding the obstacles ahead.

He had to constantly sift through the shrieking to extract what was useful, and Wang Yu’s brain was not as sharp as Avia’s; this task, requiring immense computational power, was becoming an exhausting burden.

He did not doubt that if he continued this way, he would soon be lost within the God of Fear’s realm; even if he were not directly influenced by the god’s power, the "scraps" of that fear were enough to imprison a weak existence like himself.

"Almost there, almost there. Focus."

He muttered to himself, and his mind, never prone to agitation, grew perfectly calm, concentrating on filtering the necessary content from the useless noise.

He was not far from the great hole at the center of the Royal City; a little further, and he should be able to enter the Shadow of the Royal City from there.

"Hm?"

Wang Yu halted his stride, his ripple detecting something just two meters away—a humanoid shape?

More messages beyond the shrieks began to filter back; within the radius of his ripple, more black, humanoid shadows appeared. They were tangible, truly present, surrounding him.

"..."

Wang Yu did not know what these entities intended. He invoked the Bloody Rage Wind Knight secret technique, and blood surged from his Blood-Biting Ring, manifesting as a giant serpent of gore that coiled around him, shielding him within.

Surrounded by blood, Wang Yu saw that within the God of Fear’s realm, a vast multitude of black shadows had appeared, dense and countless; he could only observe those within his two-meter range.

In truth, every black shadow that had appeared in the realm was now gathered here, circling and layering around Wang Yu, observing this anomalous existence.

Sometimes, being too unique is not a good thing; Wang Yu, a lone figure still acting normally within the reach of the God of Fear’s power, was like a firefly in a pitch-black room, a glimmer in the deep sea—far too conspicuous...

...

"Boom."

A golden blade of light descended from the sky, cleaving the floating black sun—now far smaller and weaker than it had been at the start—in two, and shattering the rock platform suspended above the void beneath it.

"Ugh, cough."

Clutching his abdomen, where his Dou Qi vortex resided, the legendary knight named Rhodes, whose inner manifestation was the black sun, gasped and coughed with difficulty. His inner manifestation had been forcibly shattered by absolute power, causing grievous injury to both his vortex and his physical form.

Not far away, Father Fang, his upper body bare and his muscles covered in blood and wounds, abruptly turned and threw a punch backward. His fist flashed with light, colliding with the claws that had suddenly materialized behind him.

A burst of light erupted. The claw, already covered in cracks, could no longer withstand the impact and shattered into a pile of sharp, hard fragments that clattered to the ground.

"Hoo, hoo..."

Galie, the legendary knight whose inner manifestation was the Perfect Behemoth, retreated several steps after the collision with Father Fang, his eyes fixed on the priest who was still walking steadily toward the incapacitated Rhodes, his breathing ragged.

This legendary knight, whose body was covered in bestial features, had most of his sharp teeth shattered, and the claws on his hands were either broken or pulverized.

The scales covering his body were largely missing, revealing gruesome wounds beneath, and his tail—that of an earth dragon—had been severed in the middle, looking somewhat pathetic. The creator of all these injuries was none other than Father Fang, who was now walking toward Rhodes.

"Awooo!"

With a desperate roar, the sonic waves vibrated the air, becoming visible through the dust, and surged toward Father Fang.

Galie’s body vanished in the same instant, leaving a crater in the ground from the force of his departure, only to reappear behind the priest.

Contracting his leg muscles, Galie aimed a kick at Father Fang’s head; the claws on his foot were still intact, at least...

"Bang!"

The flail formed by the Holy Scripture of the God of Light descended from above, smashing Galie into the ground just as he attempted his rear attack.

"Boom."

Father Fang turned and slammed a fist into the face of the dazed Galie, knocking the powerful legendary knight unconscious.

"Cough, truly... immense power..."

Rhodes watched as Father Fang, having rendered Galie completely combat-ineffective, walked toward him. He struggled to sit up, speaking with a touch of self-deprecating helplessness.

It was not that the two legendary knights were weak; it was simply that Father Fang was too strong. He had fought two legends single-handedly, and all they could do was delay him, preventing him from breaking free from this spatial rift.

"You win... Fang Stuart. Kill us, then go and save your kingdom. If you don't go now, it may be too late. In this war between kingdoms, we have lost."

Rhodes panted, facing Father Fang with a calm demeanor, showing no panic at the prospect of his impending death.

"It is a kingdom; it is not as fragile as you imagine."

Father Fang crouched down, meeting the gaze of the man struggling for breath, and spoke quietly.

"A kingdom is still too fragile. Like Seiwentan—though I knew of the plan, to me, the kingdom of the past is already dead."

Rhodes responded with a bitter smile.

"It is not. To be precise, Seiwentan still exists. Apart from the Royal City, the remaining residents are doing well enough. As long as they remain, Seiwentan cannot be considered extinct."

Father Fang refuted Rhodes’ words.

"Is that so? Then why not kill us, Fang Stuart? It really is going to be too late."

Rhodes shook his head, clearly not taking Father Fang’s words to heart, and merely urged him to finish the job.

"No, I will not kill you. The Church of Light does not take sides. I intervened because the Aleister army could not handle you, and I wished to reduce casualties—that was my own private motive. As for killing you, that is not something I am obligated to do."

"After all, I have seen the underhanded things Aleister has done to you over the years. From your perspective, I can understand your actions, but as a believer in the God of Light and a citizen of Aleister, I must stop this war from continuing."

Fang waved his hand, continuing to look into Rhodes’ eyes.

"That is certainly in the style of your Church of Light."

Slightly surprised, Rhodes felt a sense of relief when he recalled the deeds of the Church.

"As legends, you still support Seiwentan’s decisions—is there a reason? The priests of the Church of Light have been observing the situation in the Seiwentan capital from the very beginning."

"The upper echelons of Aleister are much the same, though at least the lives of the residents are decent. But you have seen the tragic state of the Seiwentan capital with your own eyes. I think you must have your own judgment, don't you?"

Father Fang asked casually, as if chatting about daily life, showing no signs of being enemies.

A legend—a realm reached only after countless life-and-death trials, adventures, and efforts—every legendary powerhouse possessed their own character.

It was practically impossible for a kingdom to make a legendary powerhouse serve them at all costs; legendary knights did not want to be killed, and almost no one could do anything to them.

This made most legendary knights unfettered, sometimes even nomadic. Yet, Rhodes and Galie were willing to give their lives for Seiwentan at this very moment.

"..." Rhodes was silent for a moment before giving his answer. "I know some decisions are wrong, but I just didn't want to see the Seiwentan of the past disappear. Some ridiculous beliefs and some faint hopes have created everything that is happening now."

"The kingdom of the past, eh? Yes, that was indeed an era worth remembering, completely different from now. Aleister is actually similar to yours. One last question: how is the Abyss Gate now?"

Father Fang’s expression held a hint of nostalgia as he replied and asked his final question.

"Running dog..."

A harsh word escaped Rhode’s lips, dripping with irony, aimed as much at the Abyss Gate organization as it was at himself and Galie.

"It is a pity; having emerged from the same era, the Night Blades, the Abyss Gate... those who once gathered for the sake of pure ideals, there are few left who remain as they were."

Father Fang stood up, his tone heavy with lingering regret and sorrow.

"Go now; any later, and the power of the God of Fear will consume all of Alestler."

Rhode waved a hand with great effort, urging the priest onward.

"The soul is the most precious treasure of all sentient beings, holding a power that even the gods cannot fully fathom."

"The God of Fear is indeed formidable; His terror can stain a human soul as dark as the sunless abyss or the eternal black of the starless void, drawing endless strength from that very dread."

"Even if the God of Light were to descend in person, He might not fully eradicate a deity rooted in the emotion of fear, yet conversely, there are things within the soul that the God of Fear can never truly erase."

"What is born of the soul under the shadow of fear is only purer and more potent; perhaps one person’s strength is insufficient to defy such overwhelming terror, but united, it is a different matter—much like what you have done, gathering the fears of the Sewentans."

"The God of Light is a unique deity, His will more akin to a collective of mortal thoughts; at the very least, He is capable of gathering these convictions."

"All I must do is find a suitable vessel to bear this power, and as it happens, I know someone quite perfect for the task."

Stepping out from the rift in space, Father Fang ignored the two crippled Sewentan legendary knights, turning instead toward the royal capital of Alestler to offer a prayer to the God of Light.

"It is still too early for humanity to face the gods alone; until we are prepared, it is best to let the gods lend a helping hand."

Within the royal city, one place remained untouched by the influence of the God of Fear: a remarkably humble little chapel dedicated to the God of Light.

The place was obscure, known to few; only Wang Yu and a handful of Night Blade members had ever visited, the very spot where Wang Yu first met Father Fang in the capital.

The statue of the muscular God of Light, placed upon the table by the priest, emitted a faint golden glow, shielding the small, empty chapel.

As Father Fang prayed, golden threads pierced through the divine kingdom of the God of Fear, spreading across the capital toward the fallen residents of Alestler.

In the void, golden motes of light scattered into every corner of the city, shimmering like distant stars.

The darker the night, the brighter the stars shine.