The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix’s Novels Also Desires Happiness - Chapter 224
2. The Fallen Moon (Part One)
“Truly deserving of being the greatest talent in the history of the Church.”
With genuine admiration, Meila quickly withdrew her gaze.
“However, it seems I need to speed up my progress as well. Even the Church has begun to feel the tension, which indicates that the destined day will arrive sooner than we expect.”
Teacher Meila gathered her thoughts and looked up, gazing into the void.
Through that thin, membrane-like barrier of the world, she peered into the scenes beyond, and her small face gradually grew serious.
“Is it… almost over?”
……
……
Outside the world.
A scene as magnificent as the apocalypse, where mere mortals, upon catching a glimpse, would be driven to madness, enveloping everything within sight.
An endless crimson sea clashed with an endless black tide, in a terrifying manner that seemed to threaten annihilation; even the aftershocks twisted the void.
This was not a trivial display within the confines of the world barrier, constrained and limited in projection.
Rather, it was a true battle of gods, wielding real authority with complete divine forms and supreme positions, unleashing world-destroying power in this unbounded realm… a divine war!
Evil God: The Withering King.
VS.
Evil God: The Silent Moon!
From an infinitely high vantage point, that enormous and grotesque pupil rose like a brilliant sun, radiating a terrifying intent of destruction. Countless emaciated hands swirled around that giant eye, forming a majestic corona.
Crimson flames fell, the phantom of a vast red earth, enveloped in the majesty of annihilation, suddenly pressed down!
The moonlight was cold.
Deathly silence.
Upon the flawless moon disk, countless scarlet hues spread, casting a layer of eerie blood color over the entire blue moon.
The black tide surged, rising like a sea to meet the burning crimson earth with towering waves!
Boom—
The clash of authority.
The void trembled.
No sound reached them, for the realm of nothingness was inherently silent, yet at this moment, many top-tier powerhouses within the world barrier simultaneously raised their heads.
Although most could not truly see this scene with their naked eyes, anyone who had stepped into the coronation clearly sensed this fierce collision that lay beyond the comprehension of ordinary people.
—
Yet merely the perception alone had caused many self-proclaimed extraordinary beings to suffer damage to their souls, their blood surging, hastily retracting their senses in disarray, afraid to pry any further.
Thus, in that place closest to the world’s barrier, only a crow, a dove, a mouse, an old man, and a white-haired loli remained.
“It’s over.”
Hezikaia suddenly sighed softly.
In his weathered eyes brewed countless rays of holy light, isolating the blinding heat and brightness, allowing him to see clearly.
The Black Tide and the Silent Moon had indeed started as equals.
However, the Silent Moon clearly lacked the strength to follow through; under the full force of the Withering King’s onslaught, it only held on for a few breaths before the ethereal blue moonlight and the boundless Black Tide swiftly collapsed.
Revealing, beneath that blue moon, a gaping, grotesque wound that had lost its cover… like a chasm.
“So that’s it. The Withering King rushed towards the Silent Moon so eagerly because he knew of its weakness?”
Hezikaia instantly understood everything, sighing:
“But having come this far, the Silent Moon, after all calculations, consumed too much power to prevent the Withering King from succeeding. Even without this weakness, it likely wouldn’t have been a match for the Withering King.
In the end, was it fear that shattered this deity?”
“A wicked god perishing from fear—what a textbook irony.”
“Next… Urlongus.”
“Here.”
“Let’s begin.”
“Understood.”
……
In the void above, the Withering King seemed taken aback by how easily he could crush the blue moon, a flicker of human-like ecstasy appearing in his fierce pupils.
The majestic corona swayed wildly, countless emaciated hands piercing through the void, engulfed in flames that burned everything, suddenly thrusting into that grotesque wound.
The blue moon roared in anger, yet was powerless.
He was a deity of equal rank to the Withering King, but this life-and-death struggle of equals was like a dam across a great river; as long as there was an ant hole, it would collapse for miles.
Not to mention, how could the power he had expended during this time be described merely as an ant hole?
Countless projections, innumerable blood offerings, all the sacrifices of the wicked believers had been consumed in the previous plan, yet yielded nothing, even losing something crucial in the process.
In this way, how could he contend against the Withering King, who had been conserving strength for this divine battle, ignoring the prayers of his followers during this time?
As previously stated, the outcome of this divine war had long been predetermined!
Thus, at this moment, the boundless and endless shadows of red earth descended, dissolving all ethereal blue radiance, the fires of annihilation surged like lava into the moon’s wheel, recklessly sweeping and devouring everything along that grotesque, massive wound.
Boom—
The Silent Moon suddenly trembled, accompanied by a silent yet profoundly sorrowful wail that evoked grief throughout the world; that ethereal blue moon was no longer perfect and flawless, but instead, like a shattered mirror, revealed lines of despairing cracks.
The divine body, shattered.
—
And after countless shattered moonstones, in that core, the Withering King finally beheld the object of his long pursuit.
It was formless, unknowable in intent, an endless brilliance, so resplendent that no words of the world could ever capture even a fraction of its splendor…
— The Core of Authority.
……
Just as the Withering King focused on the Core of Authority, in an inconspicuous corner of the void, a golden door suddenly took shape.
Hezikaia stepped through the door, looking up, a flicker of fervor crossing his gaze.
At such a moment, how could it be allowed for only you, the Withering King, to enjoy it alone?
In the distance, crows flew by, dropping a few feathers.
A white dove flapped its wings, taking away a sliver of cold moonlight.
A scabby rat lurked, wandering at the very edge.
And Hezikaia tightened his grip on the scepter, giving it a gentle wave.
Golden light cascaded down, as if countless doors instantaneously overlapped, and the shattered fragments of divine form from the infinite distance appeared directly before him.
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Upon the fragments of divine form, there lingered a heart-stopping stillness, a terrifying corruption that, in an instant, could turn a crowned one into a puppet of the moon.
But alas, the moon was already on the brink of death.
Hezikaia swept his sleeve, and a sacred radiance fell, sealing that stillness within. With a grasp of his fingers, the fragments of divine form automatically flew toward him.
Yet suddenly, he felt a moment of disorientation, as if a video tape had been paused and then rewound; the fragment flying toward him bizarrely retreated.
Hezikaia was momentarily stunned, then suddenly reacted, roaring:
“Meladomir!”
“Oh dear, oh dear, why shout? Don’t you know to respect your elders and cherish the young?”
Melara appeared from somewhere nearby, a faint silhouette of a giant bell hovering behind her. With a flick of her small hand, the fragment of divine form automatically shrank and landed in her palm.
“Respect for the elderly is good, but what about cherishing the young? You see, little one,” Melara blinked, her face adorably innocent.