Chapter 519: Ashe, The Godslayer

Five Wings.

That graceful, radiant figure possessed a presence so brilliant and sacred that its dazzle forced eyes away, commanding an exalted presence that forbade anyone from raising their head.

The sky above collapsed, weeping black sludge, while the earth split wide to overflow with a sea of blood. Amid the fallen world, that figure stood as the single beacon of light, straining to hold back the falling heavens and mend the shattered abyss below.

A Pseudo God Angel? No. A Five-Winged Divine Spirit.

Angels and Divine Spirits were inhuman existences, beings far beyond human comprehension. Though Iger had never laid eyes on a divine entity, he felt the boundary between them as clearly as a pulse in his chest. As the ancient myths foretold: Angels were sorcerers who had transcended humanity, while Divine Spirits were nothing more than natural laws given a voice.

Just as no one watching a brilliant sun would expect it to stick out its tongue and lick them, no one looking upon this entity painting the world with color could believe it retained any trace of humanity.

As Iger stared at the figure standing in the twilight of the world, he felt as if he were watching the sun rise from a grave.

What was its rule? What was it trying to accomplish? What was this world supposed to be, and more importantly, what did any of this have to do with him?

Iger received the answer to his final question almost instantly.

Clang!

A sword pierced through its chest. The entity seemed to release a silent scream, but that did nothing to stop the brutal assault.

Pinned against a ruined stone monument by the blade, the divine being suffered further as black, serpent-like sword light swept across its wings. The light transformed into chains of black steel, wrapping viciously around its body to lock it in place like a captive slave.

At the other end of those chains stood a man in a dark red trench coat and a mask.

He was slaying a divine being. A Divine Spirit, no less! As nothing more than a mortal sorcerer, he had hunted down an existence at the Five-Winged level!

Despite the unmistakably familiar features, Iger found the man almost impossible to recognize.

The godslayer stared at the restrained Divine Spirit with a hatred so intense it stilled the pulse in Iger's veins. This man was not the cult leader responsible for countless atrocities, nor was he the calamity that brought about the world's destruction. Still, the divide between this man and the person Iger knew was simply too vast.

It felt like seeing a Lala Fat don heavy warrior armor to perform a dancer's routine, an absurd mismatch that felt entirely out of place. Iger could never associate his acquaintance with those two villainous roles; he would only ever view such a comparison as a ridiculous joke.

Yet the present reality demanded otherwise.

This godslaying madman, wearing the expression of a vengeful avenger, gave Iger a strange illusion that this could be a hidden possibility slumbering within that person.

The godslayer suddenly turned on his heel, locking his gaze directly onto Iger.

The hatred in his eyes softened, replaced by a cold, quiet chill. Leaving the Divine Spirit pinned against the stone wall, he walked forward, dragging the chains coiled in his right hand. With every step he took, the links tightened, drawing longer and more sorrowful cries from the bound entity.

He stopped directly before Iger and extended his left hand.

To Iger's surprise, fear never reached his heart. It was not a matter of trusting the man to spare him, but rather a profound sense of relief washing over him.

It felt like suffering through an awful buffet for an unbearable length of time, only for someone to finally arrive and pull him away from the table.

***

Opening his eyes, Iger offered a soft hum as he noticed Ashe running a hand through his hair. A warm green radiance flickered softly within Ashe's palm.

At the far end of the bath, Harvey soaked in the warm water while stuffing his mouth with Lala Fats. Every bite caused a surge of cyan life force to ripple across his skin as the meat vanished down his throat. To his right sat over a dozen empty plates; to his left, just as many remained stacked high with various meats.

"How long was I asleep?"

"About ten minutes," Ashe said, withdrawing his hand with a smile. "This is the first time I've ever seen you sleep so peacefully. We're sitting in a bathhouse in a foreign kingdom. How do you manage to look so completely at home?"

"I never slept this deeply even in Blood Moon," Iger said, pausing to emphasize his point. "Besides, I don't have a home."

"You do now. As long as someone holds you in their thoughts, you will always have somewhere to return to," Ashe responded. "Were you just completely exhausted? Lys' original plan was to send you away from the Gospel Kingdom. She should have given you enough time to rest."

Iger rolled his eyes. "I used the Cursed Rusty Crow's Rainbow Tail Feather. Taking that shortcut means I'm bound to die in the Virtual World after exploring the Distant Sky Domain for a bit. I cannot enter the Virtual World for now."

"That doesn't mean you can't take a nap."

"We are about to embark on another journey filled with the unknowns," the fraudster retorted. "Do you really think we don't need to prepare? Lys opened a fast-track shopping channel for us, so my spatial card is packed with emergency supplies. Here I was assuming I wouldn't even get the chance to use them..."

Iger glanced toward Harvey. "And do not rely on Harvey's spatial card either. His coffin takes up most of the room."

"Harvey mentioned taking a nap, too. There is plenty of time."

"Unlike you two, who can casually sleep inside a grave and treat life so lightly, my nerves are far too delicate," the fraudster complained. "With you around, relaxing enough to rest is impossible."

Suddenly, Iger asked, "Why were you touching my hair?"

"Healing," Ashe replied, summoning his Heal-Sword. "Did you have a good dream?"

Iger recalled a vivid scene from his sleep.

Most details had faded, but the burning hatred in the godslayer's eyes lingered sharply in his mind.

Was it just a dream, or was it the effect of the Revelation spirit?

Anyone having experienced the Woven Festival would inevitably develop a keen interest in mystical sorcery classes like Prophecy, Fate, and Truth. This held especially true for someone like Iger, the bearer of a Prophecy Class spirit.

It felt like reading a mystery novel where a character suddenly declared, "I know the killer's identity," only to die instantly, followed immediately by the author dying and leaving the story forever unfinished.

That exact frustration gripped Iger now. Being unable to see the future was infuriating enough; seeing only fragmented slivers of it proved far more unbearable.

Still, given the choice, Iger would choose the fragments every time. Obtaining the bliss of ignorance was far too easy for him. Amy, Anphel, or a random passerby on the street could provide it. Nobody could resist the false kindness of a skilled fraudster.

Yet he remained precisely that kind of madman: someone preferring to drown in confusion, searching for genuine emotion within absurdity.

Shaking the thoughts away, Iger looked around and raised an eyebrow. "This is the rear hall of the Temple of Calamity Flame, isn't it?"

"That's right," Ashe said, sinking his body beneath the surface and stretching in the water. "We likely have another half hour of rest."

Iger instantly shifted into his analytical state. "Let me organize our current situation. First, the Temple of Calamity Flame summoned us here in our capacity as the Gospel's First."

"More accurately, the Gospel's First and his two useless followers," Ashe corrected.

Iger immediately struck the surface of the water with a knife-hand, splashing the cult leader's face before continuing. "In other words, the Temple of Calamity Flame firmly believes the Gospel's First will assist them. Many reasons could explain this. Perhaps a Divine Lord or an Angel commanded it, or perhaps the nature of the Gospel's First aligns with their goals.

"Regardless, they have not questioned our identities. We can exploit this opportunity. Handled properly, I could empty the Temple of Calamity Flame's treasury and leave legitimately through the front doors.

"However, the moment we arrived, their enemy, the Four Pillars Cult, launched an attack. The Temple of Calamity Flame believes the Gospel's First can resolve this crisis, bringing us directly to our first hurdle. Whether we accept the title of the Gospel's First or not, the Four Pillars Cult represents a problem we must eliminate, unless they prove willing to listen to our explanation and spare our lives."

Ashe wiped the water from his face. "Much as I want to hold out hope for the Four Pillars Cult, Everlasting Doom already taught me a harsh lesson. Let's assume they are irredeemably evil."

"I refrain from placing hope in others as well, but why is your professional standing completely useless?" the fraudster complained. "I can understand a local branch giving you the cold shoulder. But why is it that everywhere we go, your own people try to kill you first? Did you personally piss off all four executives at your corporate office?"

Ashe looked genuinely aggrieved. "The Four Pillars Cult clearly targeted the Temple of Calamity Flame. How does that involve me? You saw how Everlasting Doom treated me. Every branch of the Four Pillars Cult remains fiercely territorial. They fear others stealing their business, so they naturally refuse to welcome someone like me, essentially acting as a dispatch worker. Revealing my work history would likely hasten my execution."

Iger let out a helpless sigh. Customarily adept at handling sudden crises, he felt powerless before a chaotic vortex of such immense scale and significance, especially without a moment to prepare.

He sank beneath the water, holding his breath until his lungs burned. Resurfacing, he swept his wet hair back from his forehead. "Declaring 'I want to take a bath' at a time like that takes incredible audacity."

When the red-robed priests delivered news of the Four Pillars Cult's assault, Ashe had remained entirely unfazed, asking only how long the temple could hold out.

Upon hearing the answer—sixty minutes at minimum—he calmly requested a bath.

Perhaps Ashe's steady composure truly sufficed to deceive everyone, or perhaps the prestigious status of the Gospel's First commanded absolute respect. Either way, the priests raised no objections, promptly arranging the bath.

Just like that, amidst an escalating crisis, the three of them stole a quiet moment of leisure, soaking peacefully in the warm water.