It had been four hours since Libinea began her manual labor of bovine relocation. She hadn't just relied on physical strength; she had been forced to use her high-level Time Magic to skip several seconds into the future repeatedly, ensuring that any patrolling guard would see only a blur rather than the indignity of a Queen carrying livestock.
She was finally at the last one.
She shoved the beast's hindquarters toward the carriage door. This was a moment she would never forget, nor would she allow Raiking to forget.
"At least nobody has seen me," she muttered, wiping sweat from her brow. "I could not imagine what the Sect would say if they saw their Matriarch like this..."
"Sister?"
The voice came from directly behind her, causing Libinea to jump and nearly drop the cow.
She spun around, guilt written all over her face.
"Ezmelral?!"
The Sword Spirit stood there, blinking her glowing eyes in confusion. She looked from the Phoenix Queen to the Twilight Carriage.
"Why is there a cow's butt hanging out of the carriage door?"
"I... I..."
Libinea coughed, straightening her soiled robes in a desperate attempt to regain her regal demeanor.
"Why are you here, Ezmelral? You are supposed to be guarding the mountain."
"Right!" Ezmelral nodded eagerly. "While practicing the 'Rocking the Baby' technique the nanny taught me, I suddenly felt a strange turbulence in Master's soul. It felt... sad. So I followed the connection here."
Libinea narrowed her eyes. She had assumed Raiking's performance in the capital was merely a tactical distraction to divert attention from the farm. Yet, if Ezmelral—his bonded Spirit Weapon—sensed genuine turmoil, then his anger toward the Goddess wasn't entirely feigned.
"He's treading on dangerous ground," Libinea whispered. "We must hurry."
"What about the... cow?" Ezmelral asked, pointing a spectral finger at the animal struggling halfway inside the carriage.
"Ugh... just help me push it. I'll explain later."
"Uh... okay."
---
[The Divine Capital - Central Plaza]
As Ezmelral assisted Libinea in the concluding stage of the Celestial Cow Heist, a rare event unfolded at the heart of the Divine Realm.
The clash between the Goddess of Creation and the God of Death had evolved beyond a mere battle; it had morphed into the ultimate aspiration every cultivator longed for.
To the West, where blinding Light enveloped the world, miracles occurred. Immortals suffering from internal injuries that had plagued them for ages found their meridians mending in mere moments. Elders on the brink of their lifespans felt a resurgence of vitality coursing through their veins, granting them an additional century of life just by inhaling the air.
To the East, under the veil of Absolute Darkness, another type of miracle was unfolding.
Body Refinement specialists hurled themselves into the shadows. They cried out as their skin decayed and muscles withered under the force of entropy, only to regenerate instantly, becoming tougher and more resilient. The plaza floor was scattered with empty vials of healing elixirs, consumed by warriors driving their bodies to the edge of death. For those enduring the agony of Raiking's shadow, the rewards equaled a lifetime of training.
High above, the two Gods engaged in a struggle that transcended martial understanding. To those watching below, it was not just a skirmish but a celestial artwork brought to life—a masterpiece woven from the essence of existence itself.
Behind Raiking, the void didn't simply loom; it wept.
Droplets of pure darkness formed into thousands of unblinking eyes, hovering like a grim audience. They shed tears of thick, viscous dark matter, which dripped down to solidify into elongated, blackened hands. With a collective, soul-piercing shriek, the hands surged forward, clawing desperately at the light, seeking to drag divinity into the abyss.
Opposite him, the Goddess of Creation quietly exhaled.
The space surrounding her flared up with a burst of nebulae. With a simple motion of her hand, these tiny stars exploded, spreading out into a galaxy of stardust that hummed with sentient life. This dust moved not like a shield, but like a swarm of golden bees, intercepting the encroaching darkness and consuming the shadows before they could touch her skin.
It was a celestial dance, embodying both profound sorrow and luminous hope, etched into the heavens forever.
"Master!"
Ezmelral shed her spectral form, rendering her invisibility unnecessary. She revealed her true essence as a Deity of Swords, streaking through the air like a silver comet to meet Raiking's grasp.
"What are you doing here?" Raiking demanded, his hand closing around the hilt. He didn't slow down; he absorbed her energy instantly, stabilizing his footing against the Goddess's pressure.
"I can be your edge," Ezmelral vowed, her voice vibrating through the steel.
"And the child?"
"Dia'Tia is guarding her."
"...Very well. Do not break."
"Never."
His grip tightened. Dark matter seeped from his pores, infusing the pristine steel with pulsating, necrotic veins. The blade darkened, transforming from a holy weapon into a unified force of absolute destruction.
"What did you do to her child?" Raiking demanded, leveling the corrupted blade at the Goddess's throat. His voice was heavy with the threat of annihilation. She answered only with silence.
That silence was the catalyst.
Before the onlookers below could comprehend the movement, Raiking was behind her. The strike was unseen, but the result was visceral; the Goddess's head separated from her body, spiraling through the air in a spray of golden blood.
Raiking turned to obliterate the falling skull—but struck only air.
Her divinity functioned on a causal loop. Before her nervous system could register the separation, her will altered the timeline, erasing the damage from existence. The falling head dissolved into photons, instantly reintegrating upon a neck that had never been severed.
She didn't just heal; she counterattacked.
A blade of hard light materialized in her grip, descending with the force of a collapsing star. Raiking's parry met her strike, the impact shattering the stillness and launching them both into a stroboscopic nightmare. They left only a trail of afterimages where gods collided—a frenzy of darkness and light scarring the sky.
The afterimages weren't the only remnants; the very fabric of reality began to fracture like spiderwebs under the sheer magnitude of their power.
From the onlookers' perspective, the sky resembled hundreds of mirrors shattering all at once. To the Goddess and Raiking within the chaos, each fragment of broken reality began to visualize a single image: Maryal.
The mere sight of her stoked his fury, and the shadows rose to meet it. Two colossal limbs of writhing dark matter erupted from the ground, stomping into the city's light with a force that shook the heavens.
"What... what is that?!"
The cry of the immortal was lost in the chaos, for a greater terror had manifested. High above the legs, the darkness split open. A toothless, cavernous mouth formed in the emptiness behind Raiking, gathering a sphere of black light. With a soundless roar, it fired. Raiking vanished from the path of the annihilation, leaving the Goddess to stand against the void's hunger.
She raised her palm, manifesting a barrier of blinding divinity to intercept the beam.
The impact was absolute.
Gravity collapsed. A silent shockwave expanded outward, vaporizing the clouds and stripping the sky to its barest foundations.
"Raiking."
The voice did not belong to either the Goddess or Ezmelral. Raiking paused his assault, directing his attention to the fragmented sky above. The scenes unfolding within the shards were unfamiliar—a glimpse into a life he had never experienced.
He witnessed the Goddess standing outside a recognizable wooden cottage. Yet, the paint was chipped, and untamed ivy had started to overrun the trellis. The weathered appearance of the walls struck him more profoundly than any physical blow; this was not the home he had left behind, but rather the dwelling she had occupied for years after his departure.
---
[One Year Ago - Eastern Forest of Dawnfall]
Maryal paused her knitting, thinking she heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel outside. Her heart skipped a beat, clinging to the foolish yet persistent hope that it might be Raiking. She rushed to the door, smoothing her apron. However, when she opened it, the name she intended to call out was stifled.
She was astonished to see a figure in her garden, one meant for the heavens rather than the earth. "Goddess of Creation."
"Hello, Maryal."
Maryal stepped aside, holding the door open. As the Goddess entered, her divine radiance seemed to soften, blending with the rustic warmth of the mortal home. She surveyed the unchanged surroundings—the wooden dining table, the handmade cupboards, the fur mats adorning the floor.
Maryal placed a glass of water on the table and sat in the chair opposite the deity. While the Goddess sipped from the cup, she noticed Maryal staring intently out the window at the front garden.
"What are you looking at?" the Goddess inquired.
She already knew the answer. As the source of all souls, she held the memories of every being within her mind. Yet, she asked because she knew Maryal needed the comfort of speaking his name.
"Did you know, Raiking used to plow those fields?" Maryal asked, a soft amusement brightening her tired eyes. "Not with magic, and not with martial arts. He did it with his hands. He liked the feeling of the soil."
Gazing out the window, the Goddess pictured it. The God of Death, whose hands were stained with the blood of pantheons, kneeling in the dirt to plant turnips. A subtle smile graced her face.
"Did you love him?"
"I still do."
"Then why did you let him go?"
"I am no fool, Goddess. A man like him... peace is a luxury he cannot afford," Maryal replied, releasing a soft sigh as she looked at her own fragile, non-cultivator hands. "If his enemies discovered me, I would be his weakness. I did not want my death to be the reason he burned the world that allowed us to meet."
Silence enveloped them. Maryal turned her gaze back to the empty fields, her expression content but lonely.
The look in her eyes gave the Goddess the determination she needed. She set the glass down.
"Maryal," the Goddess said softly. "I require your help."
Maryal turned, confused. "My help? I am but a mortal. What could a Goddess possibly need from me?"
The Goddess reached across the table, taking Maryal's hands in hers.
"I need you to help me conceive a child."