Chapter 551 - 494: Transaction! Opportunity for Godhood

Chapter 551: Chapter 494: Transaction! Opportunity for Godhood

"If you successfully fulfill this contract and heal the wound in time, you will prove that you not only possess Power, but also the potential and temperament to wield such Power to uphold ’Order’ rather than for mere destruction..."

"I, Phaethon, can guide you and provide the necessary ’witness’ and ’bridge’..."

"I will help you ignite the Divine Fire, construct a Divine Format, and step into... the true Domain of the Gods."

Guidance and aid on the path to godhood.

This promise was so momentous it would make any mortal powerhouse’s breath catch and their heart pound.

Roland was no exception, of course, but he wasn’t swept away by the prospect.

Instead, he endured the excruciating pain wracking both his soul and body, held on to his clarity, and asked in a low voice within his mind.

"What is the cost?"

Every deal has a price.

The greater the reward, the more staggering the hidden cost.

"The cost?"

Phaethon’s massive, cyan-white vertical pupil blinked almost imperceptibly.

"Resolving the root of this temporal affliction is, in itself, a journey from which you have a slim chance of survival. In the distant past, Space-Time had not yet undergone its current ’weakening.’ Its Laws were more stable, and also more... exclusionary."

"The dangers you may encounter there are far beyond what this fragile, collapsing world can offer. A single misstep could see you lost in the currents of time or annihilated into the dust of history. That is the most direct ’cost’."

It stated the objective risks, then its tone shifted.

"However, as for the ’cost’ attached to the deal itself..."

Its gaze passed over Roland, landing on his dying companions behind him.

"Those with whom you share deep bonds and karmic Entanglement—their very existence is an important part of your ’disturbance.’ If they are left to linger in this collapsing fragment of Space-Time, their ’variable’ nature will likely trigger unpredictable chain reactions, interfering with or even sabotaging the environment for the contract’s execution."

"Therefore, as part of the deal, and to ensure the ’variables’ remain controllable... they must return with you to that point in the past."

’Return to the past together?’

Roland’s heart sank. He hesitated for a moment.

He was willing to risk traveling through time for survival, for the truth, and even for the slim Hope of ’repairing’ the damage. But that didn’t mean he had the right to make the same decision for Avril and the others.

To return to an unknown and potentially more dangerous past, with no certainty of what lay ahead—this was not a promise he could easily make on behalf of others.

"It seems... you have your reservations."

Phaethon’s voice rang out again, having seemingly perceived his hesitation.

"Perhaps, then, this fact will help you and your companions make a clearer choice."

"Look at them, Roland."

"Forcing a mortal vessel to act as a crucible, channeling and wielding the great Power of the Gods... such an act is tantamount to briefly ’pledging’ one’s own existence to a higher-echelon Power, overdrafting the very essence of one’s life and the foundation of one’s soul."

"Ordinary injuries can be healed, but this kind of ’Burning out’ and ’defilement’ of one’s very essence... without outside intervention, it won’t be long before their existence flickers out like a candle in the wind, leaving not even a trace behind."

"They... are on the verge of being ’reduced to dust’."

"What?"

Roland’s heart hammered in his chest as he whipped his head around to look.

The battle had been so brutal that he’d focused all his attention on Yemiga and Phaethon. Only now, when he looked closely, did he realize with a jolt how much worse his companions’ conditions were than he’d thought.

Avril was leaning against a broken stone, her emerald eyes shut tight. Her face was an unnatural, deathly gray.

The fresh, natural aura that usually surrounded her had vanished completely, replaced by a withered stillness, as if every drop of vitality had been drained from her.

An unsettling, dark purple mark even lingered at the corner of her right eye, not yet fully faded.

Duraga lay collapsed on the ground, his brawny frame twitching faintly. The light from the Iron Glove, a symbol of Durag’s Blessing, was completely gone, its surface covered in a web of cracks.

Beneath his bronze skin, a murky, dark-red light, like cooling Magma, darted about erratically. Each flicker made his face twist in a spasm of pain.

Galvis was curled up, the shattered Lute in his arms seeming to have siphoned away all his vitality.

His face was transparently pale, and the blood that had trickled from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth had dried black. His breathing was so faint it was nearly undetectable, as if it might stop at any moment.

Even Bronson, who was a short distance away, had fallen into a deep coma from the battle’s aftershocks and sheer terror, and was barely breathing.

Just as Phaethon had said, they were slipping toward utter annihilation.

An icy chill clenched Roland’s heart.

Compared to the unknown risks of time travel, immediate death was the certain and inescapable end.

He had no more time to hesitate, nor did he have the right to refuse this only chance at life on his companions’ behalf.

If they were conscious, they would surely make the same choice.

There was only a future if they lived.

Roland took a deep breath and turned back to the eye in the heavens. His gaze grew firm and sharp as he slowly nodded.

"I accept."

"Very good."

Phaethon’s voice was devoid of joy or sorrow.

In the next moment, an invisible, tremendous Power descended.

There was no brilliant flash of light. The unsettling aura of withered stillness, chaos, and decay surrounding Avril and the others was simply... erased, as if gently wiped away by an invisible hand.

The color returned to Avril’s ashen face, the dark purple mark vanished completely, and her natural aura enfolded her once more.

The dark-red turmoil within Duraga’s body was calmed. The cracks on his Iron Glove remained, but his life force grew steady and strong.

Galvis’s breathing became deep and even, and the deathly pallor on his face faded.

Bronson’s eyelids twitched, as if he were about to awaken.

It was as if time had been reversed for them, returning them to the peak condition they were in before entering Silver Radiance City—or perhaps even earlier. They merely remained deep in sleep.

When it was Roland’s turn, the healing power flowed through his body. The wounds on his skin sealed shut, his broken bones mended, his exhausted stamina was restored, and the physical trauma from the battle and the Dragonification backlash repaired itself at a visible rate.

However, when the Power tried to touch the deepest wound in his soul...

’Hm?’

Phaethon let out a soft, private murmur.

’I did not expect... the Pseudo-God’s control and corrosion of the Authority of Space-Time would leave behind such a profound ’imprint’...’

Seeing its power linger before the barrier of Roland’s soul, ultimately unable to fully penetrate the core wound from the [Fate Deviation] backlash, Phaethon finally gave up.

"Your companions are out of danger, but the ’wound’ to your soul is of a peculiar nature, too deeply entangled with the warped Space-Time Law... I cannot completely remove it now. You will have to find a way to heal the rest of the damage yourself during your journey through time."

’A soul wound? This must be because of [Fate Deviation], right?’

He’d reached a conclusion, but of course, Roland couldn’t possibly tell Phaethon about it.

After all, it was a good thing that the entity mistook the wound as something caused by Yemiga.

At this thought, feeling that his body had recovered most of its fighting strength, Roland nodded.

"Then... the contract is made."

As Phaethon’s final words fell, the cyan-white vertical pupil in the heavens erupted with brilliant light.

Roland felt the ground beneath his feet, the surrounding ruins, and even the whole of frozen Space-Time begin to spin, stretch, and fade.

An irresistible power, gentle yet immense, enveloped him and his sleeping companions, Stripping them from this dying fragment of Space-Time.

His vision was filled with an endless, rushing torrent of silver and gray light, as if he had fallen into a bottomless tunnel of time.

Countless blurry, fragmented images flashed past.

Shattered crystals, burning cities, unfamiliar faces, magnificent ruins...

The whisper of time became a piercing shriek in his ears.

The heavy exhaustion and the wound on his soul finally overwhelmed him.

Before he completely succumbed to the bizarre turbulence of Space-Time, the last thing Roland saw was his companions floating safely within the torrent of light.

And his own consciousness, like a stone sinking into the Deep Sea, was swiftly consumed by endless Darkness and silence...

Devoured.