Chapter 445

There were countless gods in Kurayan.

But being a god did not mean being omnipotent.

They could only wield as much power as the faith that upheld them.

That was why every god longed for more worshippers.

Human or other race—it didn’t matter.

The more who sent them faith unconditionally, the greater their strength.

Among them, twelve gods held the most believers and the greatest might.

People called them the Twelve High Gods.

They exerted overwhelming influence across Kurayan, ruling over the fates of countless living beings.

No one could escape the eyes of the Twelve High Gods.

The only exception was Krasias.

The primordial dragon, born with Kurayan itself and growing with the world, possessed power that surpassed the Twelve.

Though in form a dragon, in truth it was closer to a transcendent deity—that was Krasias.

Even the Twelve did not dare treat Krasias lightly. They revered it.

Apart from that being, no living thing could escape the web of fate the Twelve High Gods wove.

Neria too—she was one of those pitiful existences caught and struggling in that web.

Elves served the Goddess of Harmony, Ciela. Dark elves served the God of Darkness, Trizian.

Both Ciela and Trizian belonged to the Twelve.

Neria had been a priestess of Trizian, God of Darkness.

Blessed by Trizian, the beautiful dark elf Neria was purer than anyone.

So cherished was she that Trizian granted her his protection.

Neria swore she would serve him her whole life in return for that blessing.

But the vow of the pure girl did not last.

One day, she met a human man who had wandered into the domain of the dark elves—and fell in love.

Her love was so fierce it shattered her vow to Trizian in an instant, a passion like a volcano.

She met the man in secret, hiding from Trizian’s eyes, and shared love with him. From that love was born a child.

To hide from Trizian, the child was raised by the man. Neria only visited once a year, on her single day of leave, to see them and protect them.

She possessed an item that could briefly veil her from divine sight. Because of it, she believed she could keep her secret, believed she could protect her man and child.

But a god is still a god.

Suspicious of her single day of vanishing each year, Trizian set others to watch her.

Thus her secret was uncovered.

Why she disappeared once a year. The man she so guarded. The child she bore.

Trizian’s fury exploded.

The betrayal of the dark elf he cherished most drove him to the peak of wrath.

Not only his own followers, but other gods as well—Trizian demanded their cooperation and issued a decree of extermination.

The whole world chased Neria.

Dark elves, elves, humans, Ashil, Highlanders—every race in Kurayan hunted her.

Neria fled with her man and child to the ends of the world.

Their destination: the temple of an ancient goddess, Mars.

Mars, known as the Goddess of the Swamp, had long since been forgotten, her temples fallen to ruin, pushed aside by the Twelve.

Mars was called the goddess of the lowest.

For the swamp drew the lowliest creatures, the despised and the weak.

And so Mars embraced the lowest lives.

Neria believed Mars’ temple would protect her and her family.

That faith carried her to the edge of the world, to the ruined shrine.

She begged Mars for help.

To shield her and her family from Trizian and his hunters.

Mars accepted.

Though her divinity was too faint to rival Trizian, she could not turn away one who had come seeking her arms.

But her power was far too weak.

Not only could she not withstand Trizian—she could not even shield Neria from elves, dark elves, or other races.

Before Neria’s eyes, her beloved man was killed.

Giants tore him limb from limb and offered his body as sacrifice to Trizian.

It was elves who killed the child.

They cut out his heart and laid it on the altar, forcing Neria—her eyelids sliced off—to watch it all.

The dark elves called her a disgrace to their kind and severed her tendons and ligaments.

Humans were set on her to violate her.

Yet Trizian’s fury was not sated.

He crushed Mars’ temple to rubble, carved thousands of wounds into Neria’s flesh, and cast her into the swamp.

Thus Neria was buried alive, her everything destroyed.

Everyone thought she had died.

But she did not die.

She could not die.

Not before vengeance.

Her grudge fused with Mars’ fading divinity.

The last ruined temple shattered, and the weakened goddess, on the brink of erasure, sank into Neria’s body. They became one.

And not only that—

Every grudge of every swamp creature clung to her.

The hatred took the form of serpents, becoming her new flesh.

Thus Neria was reborn—the Black Queen.

＊＊＊

After hearing everything, Zeon’s face twisted in disbelief.

“So you’re saying a god threw his own priestess into the slaughter out of jealousy.”

“It wasn’t jealousy…”

“What else could it be? A god so petty? It’s laughable.”

“Gods are imperfect too.”

“You mean to excuse it as a mistake born of imperfection?”

“……”

Deva’s lips trembled, but no answer came.

Zeon turned his gaze away, as if he had expected nothing.

Kwaaang! Kwaaang!

The Black Queen and the council leaders clashed in a brutal battle.

Anyone could see—the Black Queen held the advantage.

Her body was shielded by scales harder than diamond.

And even piercing those scales brought no relief—her blood birthed serpents.

The snakes rose from the earth, lashing out at the council leaders.

They would not be felled by mere serpents. Yet the nuisance was undeniable.

Distracted, they could not fully focus on the Black Queen.

The cost was merciless.

“Khk!”

Liala, one of the leaders, groaned and looked down at her lower body.

While her attention was split, she had been struck by the Black Queen’s petrifying ray.

Crack, crack—!

From her toes upward, stone spread.

“Damn it! How are we supposed to kill that thing?”

Her last act before turning entirely to stone was to glare at the Black Queen in bitter resentment.

Three of the council leaders had already been petrified.

They were already at a disadvantage—and now pressed even further back.

Kukukuku…

The Black Queen surged forward with destructive might.

Her destination—the World Tree.

Its destruction was her only purpose.

Deva spoke.

“Mars and Lady Neria share something in common. Their worlds were both destroyed. Mars lost her divinity when her last temple fell. Lady Neria lost everything. They both seek revenge.”

“If she destroys the World Tree…”

“El Harun will fall. The climax of her vengeance.”

“I see.”

Zeon nodded slowly.

Were he in Neria’s place, he would have chosen the same.

Her vengeance was righteous.

No one could condemn it.

The problem was, if her vengeance was fulfilled, too many would die.

“Phew…”

Zeon let out a quiet sigh. Deva sighed with him.

Then Zeon asked:

“What is your relation to Neria?”

“I… was there.”

“There? You mean, you were at Mars’ temple?”

“Yes.”

“Then your age—”

“It’s rude to ask a lady’s age.”

“My apologies.”

“I jest. I’m over a thousand years old. Soon, I will return to the gods’ embrace.”

“…Unbelievable.”

Zeon could not hide his shock.

Among humans, the longest-lived was Jin Geum-ho—and even he had not reached two hundred years.

Even elves, who outlived humans, rarely passed several centuries. Most of the elder elves had perished when Kurayan fell, leaving only the young.

And yet before him stood one with the face of youth who had lived a thousand years.

Hard to believe. But he had to.

She had no reason to lie.

Deva spoke softly.

“Zeon.”

“Yes?”

“Please stop Lady Neria for me.”

“Couldn’t you unleash that Hellfire skill? Surely it could wound her deeply.”

“I… can’t bear to hurt her anymore.”

“You make it sound as if you’ve hurt her before.”

“That’s…”

Deva faltered.

From the start, Zeon had noticed—she was strangely hesitant with Neria.

Too hesitant to strike directly.

It was not simply because they knew each other. Something more.

“What are you to Neria? You called her sister earlier…”

“Why must you pry? Could you not just accept my plea?”

“Sorry, but I’m no fool. I won’t throw myself into another’s battle without knowing why.”

“……”

Deva bit her lip hard at his cold reply.

She had already grasped that Zeon’s skill was of the same nature as hers.

Though White Phosphor Flame had been absorbed, its power was astonishing.

Such a skill would be invaluable against the Black Queen.

Conflict flickered in her eyes.

Zeon stood with arms crossed, watching.

Until she spoke the truth, he would not move.

“…Haa.”

Deva sighed as if the ground would split.

Still, Zeon did not budge.

At last, she understood.

This man would not lift a hand without the truth.

Whether El Harun stood or fell—it meant nothing to him.

He was a native of Earth. To the natives, El Harun’s races were the ones who had ruined their world.

To even ask this of him was shameless. Yet she had no choice.

At length, she spoke.

“It was me.”

“…What was?”

“I was the one who told Trizian that Neria had borne a child with a human.”

Deva shut her eyes tight.

It had been over a thousand years ago.

She was young then. Foolish.

And so, without thought, she had revealed the truth to Trizian.

Because of it, Neria lost everything.

At the time, she thought it was right.

She and Neria had been closer than sisters of blood.

Always together. Sharing everything.

But one day, Neria grew distant.

She left the temple often. She no longer spent time with her. Deva felt abandoned.

And then Trizian gave her an oracle—ordered her to watch Neria’s every move and report.

So she learned the truth.

That Neria had borne a human’s child. That she met them in secret.

And she told Trizian.

What followed was Neria’s ruin.

And as all could see—her rebirth as the Black Queen.

Deva bore heavy guilt. She could not raise her hand against Neria herself.

She knelt before Zeon.

“Please… free her from the curse. I will accept any punishment.”