CHAPTER 612

【 THE GODDESS ARRIVES 】

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The Demon King did not answer the elven maiden’s question.

Instead, a low and mocking sneer slipped from his mouth as the abyssal power surrounding him thickened, coiling like serpents before enveloping his form completely.

A noxious and unsettling mist then began to seep outward from his body, spreading swiftly across the battlefield. Wherever the mist touched the ranks of lesser demons, the effect was instantaneous.

The creatures caught in it stiffened, their eyes widening with primal fear before scattering in blind panic. Those swift enough to flee stumbled away in terror, while the slower and weaker were overtaken within moments.

Their screams split the air as the black mist consumed them entirely, their flesh and bones dissolving into nothingness.

In the span of a few heartbeats, tens of thousands of demons were erased just like that, melting away like candle wax consumed by flame. The spectacle was so ghastly, akin to a slaughter that defied mortal comprehension.

Seeing all this unfold, the Chosen Ones who stood at the periphery were struck dumb, horror and disbelief etched across their faces.

“W-What the…!”

“What is happening?!”

Yet the black mist did not stop there. After feasting upon its own kind, the ominous fog recoiled, drawing inward and spiraling back toward the Demon King. The mist clung to him like an unholy mantle, obscuring all traces of his true form.

Then his body began to swell. His already large frame further expanded rapidly, growing taller and broader until he loomed over twenty meters high.

The aura that had already been terrifying now became utterly unfathomable.

A dreadful power spread outward in waves.

The Chosen Ones caught within its reach began to grow restless and uneasy. A strange agitation took root in their hearts, filling them with unexplainable irritability.

But for the dwarven warriors positioned further behind, the effect was even stronger.

Their eyes turned bloodshot, their breathing grew heavy, and an uncontrollable fury began to swell within them. Thoughts of death and destruction crept into their minds.

Even the legendary warrior Tonglu was not spared. His face twisted with rage, and he let out a thunderous roar:

“Barolte! It is evil god Barolte!”

“This is the very power he once used to turn my comrades against each other, forcing them to slaughter one another!”

The High Pontiff Greycloth, too, grimaced in visible pain, his body trembling beneath the oppressive aura.

Yet as the Godwarden of the Dwarven God of Forging, and standing closest to the statue of the Goddess of Life, he was shielded more than the others. Though his spirit was shaken, he managed to remain steady.

Lifting his head with effort, the High Pontiff called out to the distant elven maiden:

“Honorable Elven Maiden, that Demon King may well be the incarnation of Barolte! You must exercise the utmost caution!”

Hearing the words of Tonglu and Greycloth, the Chosen Ones burst into a clamor.

“The incarnation of Barolte?”

Most quests in Elven Kingdom were closely tied to the game’s overarching storyline.

Because of this, those who had joined this battlefield mission were already well acquainted with the lore surrounding it.

Thus, nearly everyone present knew that Barolte was the final raid boss of the current Dwarven Kingdom’s battlefield mission.

And more importantly, that only the Goddess herself could stand against him.

In an instant, the expressions of the Chosen Ones shifted. The fear that had gripped them only moments earlier was swiftly replaced by a spark of excitement, as though they had stumbled upon a once-in-a-lifetime event. Then, almost in unison, they all seemed to come to the same conclusion—

Run!

They spun around and bolted toward the direction of the Goddess’s statue.

What a joke!

This boss possessed strength comparable to that of a demigod, and confronting him directly would be no different than vegetables laid upon a cutting board, awaiting slaughter.

Anyone who failed to run would meet only a meaningless death.

At times like this, the wisest strategy was to cling desperately onto the Goddess’s thighs for protection and simply sit back to witness her overwhelming divine might.

This was the wisdom ElvKing veterans had acquired after completing countless quests.

Of course, the Goddess had not yet descended at this point, but their Big Sister Zero was still present. With her holding the front line, the Goddess’s arrival was surely only a matter of time.

So for now, the best course of action was to step back and enjoy the unfolding story.

The Chosen Ones retreated en masse like a receding tide.

Yet their faces showed not the slightest trace of fear.

On the contrary, many glanced eagerly back at Barolte’s incarnation and the elven maiden hovering in midair, their eyes burning with anticipation.

The fastest among them even seized the opportunity to secure the best vantage point on nearby high ground to record the event. Some sat cross-legged, pulling out nuts from their pouches, cracking them open as they cheered and shouted encouragement for their Big Sister battling above.

The only thing missing at this point was for them to pull out small stools to sit on, thus completing the festive scene.

This bizarre spectacle left the dwarves utterly dumbfounded.

Meanwhile, while the players busied themselves with their usual shenanigans, Zero floated in midair with a playful expression, her eyes narrowing as she regarded the hideous Demon King before her.

“So this is evil god Barolte…?”

Once more, she lifted her flaming golden sword and cleaved downward with a forceful strike.

Divine power surged from the blade, radiating outward in waves of searing light that seemed to distort the very air around it.

But Barolte only responded with a cold, disdainful snort before springing upward with terrifying swiftness.

From within the roiling black mist, his monstrous claw shot forth, shrouded in darkness, and once again met the flaming sword in a resounding clash.

A burst of blinding light split the battlefield, and in the next instant, Barolte’s towering form vanished without a trace.

For a brief second, the battlefield fell into an eerie silence.

At that very moment, the High Pontiff, who had been observing from afar, suddenly turned pale.

“Be careful!”

Zero arched her brows, her gaze flicking sharply behind her.

At some point, the Demon King had silently materialized at her back. From within the shroud of mist came a low, sinister laugh, followed by the slow emergence of another huge, clawed hand.

However this time, that claw which was covered in barbs and black scales was now holding a weapon—a spear.

Without warning, the weapon lunged forward, wreathed in pitch-black lightning, and drove itself straight through Zero’s body.

In that same instant, a huge amount of abyssal energy surged forth like a flood from the spear, engulfing Zero’s body entirely as though seeking to devour her alive.

“Hahaha, how careless… Now die.”

It all happened so quickly.

Within mere seconds, Zero was completely ensnared and encased within a rolling mist of abyssal power, her golden radiance swallowed by the churning darkness that sought to erase her very existence.

At the same time, Barolte’s strength ascended to an even greater rank. The overwhelming pressure radiating from him spread outward, forcing every living being to tremble involuntarily.

The Chosen Ones who had been loudly cheering and shouting just moments ago immediately fell silent.

Their eyes widened in shock, faces filled with disbelief.

“N-No way… Big Sister Zero actually lost?”

“Instant kill?”

“…What kind of ridiculous storyline is this?!”

“Oh shit, guys should we be running right now?”

Similarly, the dwarves, after gradually regaining their composure under the protection of the Goddess’s statue, had turned pale as well.

“M-Myth… a Mythical Being…” Tonglu muttered, his voice trembling.

“Even that powerful Elven Godwarden perished just like that…”

That Elven maiden, their side’s greatest trump card and their only hope of manifesting the Goddess’s descent, had been slain in an instant.

Only a Mythical Being could stand against another of the same rank.

Without the Goddess of Life’s intervention, evil god Barolte, whose strength now far exceeded that of a demigod would remain unstoppable.

Slowly, despair began to take root amongst everyone.

Greycloth’s expression darkened. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them once more, gaze firm with resolve.

“Tonglu, lead everyone to safety and retreat at once. When you have escaped, deliver word to the king. Tell him to save as many as he can, no matter how few they may be,” the High Pontiff commanded, his features seeming to age considerably with the weight of his words.

“Y-Your Holiness…” Tonglu’s eyes widened, his face twisted with anguish as he struggled to accept such an order.

Yet before he could speak further, a clear and spirited voice suddenly rang out nearby:

“—Oh come on, why is everyone acting like it’s already game over? The Goddess hasn’t even descended yet! Geez, why is everyone so eager to run away?”

Startled, Tonglu instinctively looked up and saw an elven girl dressed in the robes of a priestess.

She was quite beautiful. Her long pale-golden hair shimmered despite the dim surroundings, and her light-blue eyes glowed like rare sapphires.

She was not speaking to the dwarves, but rather casting a look of disdain toward the other elves beside her.

“Come on, have a little more faith in the Goddess, will you? Did you all forget who the strongest in the Elven Kingdom is?” she said, crossing her arms in open exasperation.

Hearing her words, Tonglu froze in place, momentarily stunned.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but suddenly sensed a vast and sacred aura emanating from behind him.

The surrounding elves widened their eyes in astonishment, before their faces alight with excitement.

“L-Look! What is that?”

Tonglu’s heart stirred, and he snapped his head around, only to freeze in place, his mouth agape.

Before the incarnation of Barolte, the rolling black mist that had swallowed the Elven Godwarden suddenly burst apart, pierced by radiant streams of gold and green light.

A thunderous explosion followed, shaking the battlefield to its core. From within the mist, a colossal pillar of golden radiance surged upward, with countless green particles of light spiraling around it like stars scattered across a night sky.

The pillar pierced through the darkness, illuminating the surroundings as though it were broad daylight.

In the next moment, the green particles spread across the battlefield, drifting downward like a gentle snowfall.

Wherever they touched the earth, the soil which was once tainted by the power of the abyss shed its corruption and returned to life. Tender shoots broke through the ground, and fresh flower buds blossomed one after another.

Everyone looked on in wonder as a distant, ethereal hymn echoed through the vicinity while the golden pillar slowly faded.

There, high above the battlefield, a figure of sacred majesty slowly revealed herself.

It was a female elf, her entire form bathed in divine radiance. She possessed silver hair and violet eyes, and she was clad in a white celestial battle-gown that was adorned with intricate patterns of blossoms and greenery. Upon her head rested a majestic crown, and in her hand she carried a scepter entwined with vines.

Even whilst shrouded in holy light, her beauty remained dazzling, unparalleled in all the world.

In that moment, Tonglu immediately recognized her.

How could he not, when her appearance was identical to the figure carved into the holy statue they had been guarding all this time?

“The Goddess! The Goddess of Life has descended!”

“Hah! I knew it! How could this mission possibly end here just like that?”

“Glory to the Goddess!”

“Praise be to Nature, praise be to Life, praise be to the great Goddess Eve!”

Cheers erupted among the elves.

The dwarves too felt their spirits soar.

Greycloth’s expression trembled with excitement, his voice shaking as he declared:

“The Elven Goddess! It is truly Her Grace, the Goddess of Life!”

“The Goddess of Life has perform a divine descent!”

༺⟐༻

The jubilant cries of the players echoed across the battlefield, their voices filled with awe and exhilaration.

High above, Evé floated with serene grace, her gaze steady and unyielding as it fell upon the enemy before her.

From within the roiling black mist, a pair of dark violet, slit-like eyes emerged, staring back with thinly veiled wariness.

“The incarnation of the Goddess of Life…?” the low, grim voice muttered.

Then a harsh, chilling laugh soon followed. Barolte lifted his spear once more, the weapon pulsing with dreadful energy. Black lightning crackled along its length, the abyssal power at its tip so concentrated that the very air twisted and tore under its pressure.

With a violent sweep, the spear transformed into a tempest of annihilation, hurtling toward Evé like a meteor of death.

Yet Evé’s expression remained calm.

A trace of mockery flickered in her gaze as she gently raised her scepter.

From it burst a flood of golden and emerald radiance, weaving together into luminous chains of light. They stretched outward with precision, intercepting the incoming spear.

There was no need for grand gestures.

Nor need for overwhelming force.

Before the disbelieving gaze of Barolte, the vine-like chains coiled around the weapon and halted its advance, as effortlessly as one might catch a stone tossed by hand.

When the Evil God grasping the spear attempted to pull it free, a wave of horror swept over him. The weapon would not budge at all, being bound tightly by the radiant, vine-like chains.

Their clash bore no extravagant spectacle, or dazzling explosions of power whatsoever.

Yet from within the chains radiated an irresistible force—one that could not belong to a mere incarnation.

The chains were imbued with the authority of laws itself, a power possessed only when a true god descended in their true form.

From within the black mist came a cry of fear and disbelief.

“T-True form?!”

The mist writhed violently, churning as if in panic, then abruptly receded as though retreating.

“Trying to flee?”

A clear and ethereal voice resounded through the air.

Evé raised her staff once more and pointed lightly toward the black mist.

Behind her, circles of radiant ripples appeared, condensing into golden arrows of light. Each arrow radiated a power far greater than even the strongest strike unleashed by Zero.

With a resonant hum, the arrows shot forth in unison, streaking through the air like a storm of divine rain, illuminating the surroundings with their sheer brilliance.

Within the black mist, a massive pair of bat-like wings flickered, only to be instantly riddled with countless arrows, like a quilled hedgehog impaled on every side. A muffled groan of pain echoed faintly from within the darkness.

Before the astonished eyes of elves and dwarves alike, the storm of arrows rained down upon the mist like a meteor shower, erupting in violent explosions.

The thunderous roar of the impact shook the earth itself as the ground split apart, and the very sealed lands trembled with apocalyptic fury.

When the blinding light finally faded, the battlefield was utterly transformed. A colossal canyon now cut across the land, leaving all who beheld it in stunned silence.

“My god… so strong!”

“S-so powerful!”

“This is insane, that blast was like a nuclear strike!”

Voices of awe rose from the players at the rear of the battlefield.

Yet Evé’s expression did not betray any hint of triumph.

She gazed calmly downward.

Within the canyon carved by their divine clash just now, an ancient complex of palaces emerged from the earth, revealing long-forgotten architecture. Above the palaces, the vast black mist lingered, though now it swayed and wavered as if on the verge of collapse.

Clearly, the entity’s strength had been nearly exhausted.

Before Evé could strike again, the entity stumbled and retreated frantically, swaying as he fled toward the palaces.

Evé did not rush to intercept; instead, she followed unhurriedly, her form soon vanishing into the depths of the palace halls.

The structure bore the distinct design of the dwarves, but aged and weathered with time. Their walls were carved with images depicting the fallen gods who once belonged to the divine dwarven faction.

The entity staggered deeper into the halls but did not escape far before Evé overtook him, blocking his path. With a single wave of her hand, she dispelled the shroud of mist, finally revealing the true form of evil god Barolte.

It was a demon with the head of a serpent and the body of a man. Three pairs of massive black bat-like wings spread from his back, and a long serpent’s tail trailed behind him.

The black scales covering his body were shattered and broken, with purple-black blood flowing freely. Even his wings were riddled with holes, tattered and mangled.

Barolte fixed Evé with a dark, brooding gaze, laced with fear and apprehension. Evé, however, arched a brow in mild surprise.

“So… should I address you as evil god Barolte, or as demon lord Samael?” she said softly.

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