Chapter 500: Farewell

"So that's how it is. The Gospel had been warning me from the very beginning to leave Ashe."

Iger retreated behind the wall of Legendary Sorcerers. Hearing Annan mutter this while changing her magazine, he frowned and asked, "How did it warn you?"

"Do you still remember my rewards from the Art Ranking?"

The charming Second Mistress Donna's face flushed with embarrassment. Maintaining her graceful composure, she fired streams of metal bullets. Like a spring breeze passing by, they grazed the shoulders of the Legendary sorcerers, creating ripples across the barriers of her admirers.

Annan's voice mixed with the roaring gunfire, sounding like someone who suddenly realized the correct solution after an exam had already ended. "One was the Eye of Truth and Calamity, and the other was Tongue of Liberation."

Iger opened his Book of Gospel and burned through the Gospel Points to restore his mana. "You seem to have barely used those two rewards."

To activate his Three-Winged spirits, he had even burned Silver and Gold Mana as fuel. It was nothing more than a desperate gamble when he had no other choice. The rapid depletion of his mana left him dizzy and exhausted. His soul had even weakened to the point where he developed a pathetic thought he would never normally have. I really want a hug.

Annan spoke cheerfully, "The Eye of Truth and Calamity helps me identify the calamities affecting others, while Tongue of Liberation allows me to verbally terminate any contract as long as both parties are willing. When you take all that alongside the first-place artwork from the Art Ranking, the Gospel's message has actually been very obvious. This person is extremely troublesome. Hurry up and cut ties with him and leave."

"It really is obvious. How did you not notice?"

"I did," Annan replied. "But I refused to listen to the Gospel. My favorite thing to do is to go against it."

The fraudster mocked. "Hard to argue with that. Back in the Blood Moon, dreamers with a will as stubborn as yours would be placed on an emergency list. They might even hold a separate Blood Moon Tribunal just for you.

"In this regard, the Gospel truly lives up to being a more advanced nation than Blood Moon. They actually sent ten Sacred Realm sorcerers to surround and eliminate us. This spectacle is every bit as grand as a Blood Moon Tribunal."

Bang!

While they were talking, a bullet shattered Alice's head.

A ghostly green flame ignited from the severed neck, forming Harvey's face. A vessel of icy flame, ever yearning to burn to ash.

Bone, muscle, and skin knitted back together like a tailor mending a garment. Alice's body recovered in an instant. His skin smoothed into flawless porcelain, color returned to his full lips, his eyes sparkled with life, and a cascade of hair fell softly over his shoulders.

However, everyone in the Funeral Agency squad knew what kind of horrifying price hid beneath this beauty.

Harvey, now one with Alice, was using his own living body to repair the dead vessel! He was extracting his own bones, marrow, muscle, nerves, skin, and blood, stuffing them directly into Alice's hollowed corpse.

A necromancer certainly had ways to regenerate lost flesh, but they were in the middle of a battle. If Harvey overextended himself, he'd drain himself dry and end up having to rely on Alice to be his sugar daddy instead.

At its core, the idea of using a living person to repair a dead body was abnormal, grotesque, and terrifying. No ordinary person would ever think of such a thing. It was like draining your own blood to feed a store-bought doll. If a sacrifice had to be made, it ought to be for something that actually mattered.

Looking at the pale bone spurs piercing through Alice's body, the truth behind Harvey's actions became painfully, undeniably clear. It wasn't because Alice was worth more than him. It was because, to Harvey, this world held no value at all.

As for the possibility of destroying himself in the process, that was like telling a person eating only instant noodles to pay attention to nutritional balance. If someone was already eating instant noodles every day, why would they care about nutrition?

Alice pushed forward with his right hand, and the shadows beneath the underground hall surged forward like a raging flood.

Without anyone noticing, Harvey had already unlocked the fourth undead unit of the Ghost King Shackles, the Shadow Spirit. Even without the corresponding spirits, he could directly control the power of shadows, restrain enemies through their own shadows, and even turn shadows from illusion into reality to engulf his opponents. This was the true terror of the Family Ranking first-place reward, Ghost King Shackles.

It allowed necromancers to ignore the barriers between sorcery classes. By transforming into different undead units, they could obtain the powers of those corresponding classes. Furthermore, they did not need to collect additional spirits to unleash Miracles. It was practically a budget version of an all-class master sorcerer.

Aside from the throne, the entire underground hall was shrouded in endless darkness. That meant Harvey had shadows everywhere to utilize. Combined with the fact that most Miracles involving shadows were extremely difficult to defend against, Harvey's offensive power at this moment could be considered the strongest in the Funeral Agency squad.

Yet even with the terrain heavily in his favor, it meant nothing before absolute strength.

The Sacred Realm sorcerers launched an instantaneous counterattack, their strikes annihilating the flood of shadows. Dense gunfire echoed through the hall alongside blazes of white fire. Enhanced by spatial techniques, every standard attack carried the overwhelming destruction of a Miracle. The moment the onslaught began, Alice slipped into the shadows to evade.

Simultaneously, gunshots erupted from another direction.

A handsome, blue-haired young man darted and leapt through the crowd of Legendary sorcerers, his twin guns firing in a rhythmic cadence. His frost bullets failed to shatter the Sacred Realm barriers, yet the thick white mist they discharged successfully blinded his targets. This was Pankey's self-created, exclusive Miracle, Melting. The older he appeared, the more Frost Mana he could harness, pushing his overall combat output straight to the Three-Winged level.

Nearby, Iger snapped his gaze toward a Sacred Realm sorcerer drawing his blade. From a distance, the swordsman unleashed a spatial slash straight at Annan.

Mid-strike, the Sacred Realm behind the swordsman shattered without warning. It looked as if the swordsman had turned his own lethal blow back upon himself.

Annan gasped in surprise. "Instantly redirecting a Sacred Realm swordmaster's attack... That is a Three-Winged Mind Class spirit. You only visited the Distant Sky Domain once. How did you already manage to claim something like that?"

Iger rested his weight against the cold stone wall, visibly exhausted. "I met a helpful sorcerer and caught a lucky break. Turns out there really are good people among them."

"Getting help on your very first trip to the Distant Sky Domain? Your luck is incredible."

"It wasn't a one-sided favor. He asked me how to handle his rebellious younger brother, and I gave him plenty of solid advice," Iger said. "Besides, if my luck were truly that good, I wouldn't be here accompanying you to hell."

The Funeral Agency squad seemed barely able to withstand the Sacred Realm sorcerers' attacks, but they only managed it by using hostages as protection.

The motionless Legendary sorcerers served as human shields. These sorcerers showed almost no reaction to the battle around them, their souls so deeply tethered to the Divine Spirits that the nature of their relationship was instantly clear. They were nothing more than living energy reservoirs.

People had always believed the Gospel was a system operated personally by the Omniscient Weaver. After witnessing the truth hidden beneath the underground hall, the reality became undeniable to the Funeral Agency squad.

The Gospel Kingdom was never ruled by a benevolent Divine Lord from on high. Its grandeur was a Miracle built entirely on exploiting its people. The grand illusion enveloping the nation and serving as the bedrock of its civilization rested on a tragic truth. It was the collective creation of every Legendary sorcerer who had ever lived, each functioning as nothing more than fuel. Day and night, they burned away their very souls to power the Divine Spirit, allowing the Gospel to walk the earth and illuminate all living beings.

As for whether these Legendary sorcerers had been forced into this fate or brainwashed, everyone had their own theories. Iger believed otherwise. He was convinced they had chosen this willingly.

For Legendary sorcerers standing at the very peak of mortal existence, studying the knowledge of Divine Spirits and building the ladder toward becoming an Angel was likely the only temptation capable of filling the emptiness in their hearts.

It all came down to a mutually beneficial transaction. The Divine Spirits fed their cravings and supplied their deepest needs. In return, the sorcerers sacrificed themselves to keep the spirits operating, catching glimpses of higher realms of existence in the process.

Even as energy reservoirs, however, they still faced tremendous risks. The Divine Spirit's appetite was simply too vast. Sorcerers drawing so close had long since seen their wills assimilated and dissolved.

In Iger's eyes, these Legendary sorcerers had no remaining traces of a personality. Despite their differences in age and appearance, they shared only one voice within their minds, and that was the Gospel.

The Sacred Realm sorcerers currently fighting against the Funeral Agency squad showed signs of that exact same hollow uniformity. Their emotional fluctuations were pitifully weak, as if they had once been countless unique stones, only to be gradually carved into identical works of art.

Once they became Legendary sorcerers, they too would inevitably become the next generation of energy reservoirs.

To think the Gospel had deceived them would be severely underestimating these sorcerers. They had benefited immensely from its power. Without it, most of those gathered here would never have stood a chance at reaching the Legendary rank.

Furthermore, they could certainly guess the truth behind the Gospel and choose to stay away from Nabistin. Having come anyway, they had to bear the consequences of their own choices.

At that moment, Iger suddenly remembered Annan's words. "Every choice you make is merely a path arranged by the Gospel, and you remain entirely unaware. Only people capable of making real choices are truly human. People blindly following orders are nothing more than insects."

The fraudster shook his head and turned his gaze back toward the fight inside the underground hall.

Regardless, the Funeral Agency squad had survived this long precisely because these Legendary sorcerers served as walking energy bars.

The Sacred Realm sorcerers did not dare attack the Legendary sorcerers. It was not a matter of fragile bodies. If threatening or injuring a Legendary sorcerer had been an option, Annan and the others would have done so long ago. Instead, the Sacred Realm sorcerers seemed unwilling to disturb the Legendary sorcerers focused on their work.

Meanwhile, Annan and the squad could only use the Legendary sorcerers to form a defensive line, unable to further utilize these strategic weapons. Every Legendary sorcerer had a layer of Sacred Realm shielding their body. Unless their mana ran dry, no one could touch them.

That was the limit of what they could accomplish. The Sacred Realm sorcerers had blocked their only way out. The ten Sacred Realm sorcerers were in no hurry, slowly dragging out the battle and waiting for time to wear them down.

Pankey's Melting had a time limit. If Harvey remained in his Frost and Flowing Fire state for too long, he would no longer be able to fight at full strength. Iger had exhausted his mana after a single use of the Three-Winged spirit. As for Annan, her personal combat strength was only at the Two-Winged level.

At her age, becoming a Two-Winged sorcerer was already an incredible achievement. Had Iger and Harvey not obtained the Rainbow Tail Feathers, they would still be lagging far behind her in combat strength.

As they accumulated more and more injuries, their impending defeat became purely a matter of time.

Iger spoke, "Speaking of which, Annan, their only target is you, right?"

"That's right," Annan calmly replied. "So you will have to die protecting me."

"If it were Ashe, he definitely wouldn't drag us into this."

Annan smiled. "Yes. That's why I like him. If it were Ashe, you wouldn't abandon him either."

"Pankey—"

The Purple Moth smiled. "If you can convince Pankey to live, I'll let you go. If Pankey and I were the only ones going to hell, it would be a little lonely. Besides, if you knew you were going to die, would you drag everyone else into hell just to survive a little longer, or would you simply die a quick death?"

The fraudster answered her question with another. "If the person here were Ashe instead, what would you choose?"

"Whatever choice you would make is the choice I would make."

Iger sighed helplessly and forced himself to stand. "One final question before death. If you could start over, would you listen to the Gospel's warning?"

While changing her magazine, Annan responded, "If all that surrounds a moth is endless darkness, how could a moth not fly toward the flame? That said... I would at least use Tongue of Liberation to free him from one of his troubles in advance. That way, he wouldn't have to face..."

***

Separation.

Ashe reached out to embrace Lys, but he caught only half of her.

The Sacred Realm sorcerer's sniper bullet tore through her small frame from the center, shattering Ashe's heart along with it. Lys was blown away by the wind, split in two. She stretched her hand through the rain, as if asking Ashe for a hug as she always did.

Ashe immediately abandoned his sword. Ignoring the attacks coming from all sides, he stretched out his arm until it nearly dislocated, as if this hand had existed until now solely to prevent her departure.

Don't leave! Don't leave me! Don't leave me behind!

Water Therapy! Rekindle! Reforge! Singular Devotion, Sword of Joy! Mechanization! Super Regeneration! Centennial Tree! Clay Body!

Dozens of different healing Miracles from various sorcery classes surfaced in Ashe's mind. Every single one could treat injuries where the body had been severed, meaning every single one could save Lys's life.

He had suffered injuries worse than this in the Shattered Lake Prison. As long as treatment arrived in time, his skin would even become better than before.

This was a world filled with Miracles. Everything could still be saved. The existence of Miracles was to erase regrets.

His gaze followed his hand through the rain. He saw Lys's lips move, seeming to say, "Don't be afraid."

Then he saw the space around Lys collapse as if a vortex had appeared. Lys was pulled inside, and his hand ended up grasping empty air.

Because he had twisted too violently, he was thrown off the Raven Aerial Motorbike. The motorbike flew toward the destination of this journey, the parking platform connected to the Azure Skyway, before crashing into the other hovering vehicles.

However, Ashe remained on the bridge. If anything, he was thrown back into the city of Divine Spirits, forever stopping just before the finish line.

On the cold ground covered with rainwater, there were only one and a half family members left.

He recognized the technique at once. Teleportation.

Sacred Realm sorcerers could master spatial techniques to create domains, but teleporting living beings remained extremely difficult. They either needed assistance from other spirits, like the Spear Class sorcerer with his chilling light, or they could only teleport dead objects like bullets. Without a designated coordinate, living beings would either be torn apart by spatial turbulence or sent to some random location, such as hundreds of meters in the sky or buried deep within underground layers of soil.

Ashe thought. The feeling of spatial teleportation was probably even worse than being spun inside a washing machine. Lys must have suffered terribly. She must have wanted to cry.

He struggled to stand, while the Sacred Realm sorcerers silently surrounded him. The remains of the girl's body, soaked by rain and spilling white stuffing, were struck by the spear shaft. The stuffing scattered, shattering the doll with it.

"Do not be afraid. The noise has already been eliminated," the Sacred Realm sorcerer said. "Now, welcome Aine's return."

"I am not afraid," Ashe muttered in the rain. "There is nothing left to fear."

He suddenly reached out, slashing at the Spear Class sorcerer's neck. His left hand grabbed the spear shaft as his substitute materialized above them, launching a downward kick.

Facing three simultaneous attacks from different directions, the Spear Class sorcerer was driven into a corner. He barely had time to unleash his Sacred Realm.

Yet Ashe's hand blade sliced right through it. Boiling rage cut through the sorcerer's throat along with the barrier.

Fist and Claw Class. Sword of Rage.

As the Spear Class Sacred Realm sorcerer covered his neck and scrambled back to heal, the rest pressed the attack instantly, giving Ashe no space to draw breath as they seamlessly overtook the strike.

Ashe grabbed the wrist of the Sacred Realm sorcerer on his left, controlling the man's sword and forcing it to cut apart the earthen barriers binding his legs.

Then he activated Sword Barrier, blocking several bullets and close-range attacks.

The moment the barrier shattered, he successfully seized the sword and drew a black mark of spatial ink through the air.

Sword Class. Heart Pen. Sword Barrier.

The approaching Fist and Claw Class sorcerer suddenly froze for one second. Seizing the opening, Ashe gently redirected him into the Firearm sorcerer's line of fire. Six bullets erupted with absolute satisfaction, fulfilling their purpose as they struck a Sacred Realm sorcerer's body.

Time Class, Second-Snatching Spirit.

With one strike, Ashe pierced the core of the Waterfall Miracle. The collapsing water shot outward like bullets, destroying the Sacred Realm sorcerers' formation completely.

He redirected the attack path of the Destructive Light, destroying the chains and vines attempting to imprison him.

Water Class. Light Class.

The battle had unfolded in the blink of an eye. When Ashe turned around, Sacred Realm sorcerers were still densely packed before him. They seemed more numerous than the rain falling from the sky, completely blocking his view of the heavens.

The streetlights no longer felt warm. On the rain-soaked ground, only the mocking laser-guided signs remained.

[Washrooms, Mink Street <<<]

[Imperial Palace, Central Avenue ↑↑↑]

[Nabistin Spirit Museum, Platinum Avenue >>>]

"It's fine," he said. "I'm not afraid at all."

After freeing his mind and allowing Aine to enter once more, he finally regained the strength to resist fate. But at the same time, the only things in his entire body that truly belonged to him were rapidly withering away.

Inside them were his past, his self, the Swordswoman, Lys, Iger, and Annan. Aine would hollow out every piece of noise within him, leaving behind only a perfect, spotless Six-Star vessel.

If I can protect you, then I will forget you. If I can embrace you, then I will lose you. Annan. Iger. Harvey. Pankey. Are you still fighting? Are you complaining? Are you afraid? Don't be afraid. I'll come.

The night rain died. The air died. And dying along with them was Ashe.