Charlotte finally realized what she had done wrong.
She had, indeed, made a mistake.
What the "Creator’s Will" said was true—from the very moment she began using this world’s extraordinary powers, she had gone astray.
From the beginning, she had drawn the Creator/Origin's power toward herself.
From the beginning, she had already been marked.
From the very start, everything had been fated. The stronger she became, the more the Origin could awaken through her.
But this was also a nearly insoluble paradox.
If she didn’t wield extraordinary power, how could she resist the Origin?
Charlotte remained silent.
Golden-red divine power surged around her, and an ancient, boundless presence slowly rose within her.
In an instant, everyone on the plaza—whether living or dead—stood upright.
Identical, eerie smiles appeared neatly on their faces. The whites of their eyes faded, turning into pure black. Twin streaks of black-red blood flowed from the corners of their eyes, quickly spreading into an ominous web of black markings.
“Eternal Night, you have failed.”
The same voice spoke from every throat, all smiling eerily as they began walking toward Charlotte.
Charlotte struggled to lift her head, staring at the puppet-like figures approaching her.
She clenched her teeth, summoned the Sword of Roman, and with one slash, cleaved the nearest puppet to pieces.
Crimson light burst forth, obliterating the first wave of enemies.
But more puppets emerged from every direction, still wearing those unsettling smiles, still walking toward her.
The ground was piled high with broken corpses, and dark red blood spilled thicker and thicker.
This blood carried a strange, dreadful power.
It pooled into streams, then swelled into a pool of blood, submerging Charlotte within it.
Charlotte felt her body growing heavier by the moment.
The dark red blood began to wrap around her, and the black markings began to crawl across her body.
At the same time, she felt the Creator’s Will rapidly awakening inside her.
“Holy crap! Master, what the hell are these things?!”
A voice of panic rang out from the Sword of Roman.
But the next instant, even this wisdom artifact was overtaken by the creeping black markings. Its brilliant divine glow quickly dimmed.
But Charlotte couldn’t stop. The puppets were themselves carriers of this terrifying corruption—if she didn’t destroy them, the Origin’s awakening would only accelerate.
More and more puppets fell, forming a mountain of corpses beneath her. The blood now resembled an ocean.
Even the sun in the sky had disappeared.
In its place was a massive eye, hovering in the heavens—its expression bore a twisted smile, gazing indifferently upon the world like an unchallenged God.
Golden divine light radiated outward. Like a sun, it illuminated all below, spreading an aura so dreadful it made even other Gods tremble.
It was both divine and malevolent.
Golden-red light washed over the land, giving way to a pale radiance. Wherever it passed… trees withered, rivers dried up, and all signs of life were stripped away…
Gazing upon this all-too-familiar scene, Charlotte’s expression turned vacant.
Fragments of memory surfaced in her mind—and suddenly, she remembered: this wasn’t the first time she had faced a scene like this.
The Origin's awakening, the stripping of power… she had experienced all of it during at least her first two “cycles.”
Of course, back then the Creator’s Will had been far weaker, and Charlotte herself had not yet been thoroughly corrupted at the root.
Back then, she had still been able to activate the Gospel of Blood, using its final authority to reset everything.
But this time was different.
Charlotte could feel that the area around her was already completely sealed by the Origin's power.
Clearly, the Origin had become aware of her ability to traverse history.
During her repeated resets of the timeline, the Origin had steadily drawn closer to her.
And now—it had finally caught up.
Her ability to reset history… had been frozen.
And even if it hadn’t, with her core already corrupted, she would be instantly pursued if she tried to reset again.
Charlotte’s consciousness began to blur.
She vaguely saw a vision—one she had seen in Coria Kingdom—a fragment of the "future."
Everything in that vision… had now come true.
The eye in the sky, the mountain of corpses on the earth—
And… herself, standing atop that corpse mountain, being swiftly corrupted and assimilated.
Even the Sword of Roman in her hand had become just like in that vision—snapped in half, unable to bear the burden of corruption.
The only part of that future which had yet to manifest… was her thrusting the broken sword into her own chest, ending it all.
Aside from that—everything else had happened.
Everything now seemed truly hopeless.
And yet—at this moment, Charlotte grew strangely calm.
This cycle… really seemed to have reached its end.
But in this cycle—she had also truly reached the Creator-tier, even if she hadn’t fully grasped its power.
No—
It wasn’t just her.
Inside her—there was a book.
The supreme artifact of the bloodborne.
Within her perception, the Gospel of Blood was glowing more brightly than ever before, standing its ground against the Origin’s power.
Unlike her, even as the Origin awakened within her, the Gospel of Blood remained untouched—unpolluted, uncorrupted.
No.
Not just the Gospel of Blood.
There was another artifact in her possession that remained untainted—
The Dreamy Moon’s Heart.
Charlotte recalled one of her earlier suspicions...
No...
Perhaps, even now, she was still walking along the “predestined” and “correct” path.
“Guardian Scepter, if you don’t make your move soon, I really am going to be possessed this time.”
With a growing suspicion in her heart, Charlotte relied on her telepathic connection to the Guardian Scepter, forcibly suppressing her increasingly unstable divine soul as she coldly prodded in her thoughts.
No sooner had the words left her mind than golden light flared beside her, and the Guardian Scepter’s form appeared.
Its expression was calm as it looked at Charlotte, who was in the midst of being consumed by the Origin. Its gaze held a trace of complexity.
And notably—it, too, had not been tainted by the Origin.
“Your Grace, True Ancestor… it seems we’ve failed once again.”
The Scepter sighed.
But Charlotte couldn’t detect any disappointment in its tone.
More than that—she noticed that the Origin’s power didn’t seem to sense its appearance at all.
Those grotesquely grinning faces still focused solely on her. Not a single gaze turned toward the Scepter. It was as if it hadn’t even spoken.
That feeling—was like the Guardian Scepter and the Origin simply existed on entirely different planes.
The corruption on Charlotte deepened. She saw eyes beginning to grow across her skin—black sockets identical to the puppets’, with writhing crimson irises twitching inside.
Yet at the same time, the Gospel of Blood within her was glowing brighter and brighter.
“Enough riddles. If you’ve got a final move, now’s the time.”
Charlotte said.
But the Scepter shook its head.
“No, Your Grace…”
“It is not I who holds the final move—but you. You must ask yourself… what is your final move?”
“Me?”
Charlotte blinked.
Her thoughts were slowing.
The corruption across her body grew worse—but the Gospel’s brilliance shone even brighter.
And just when Charlotte believed she was on the verge of falling—she felt herself reach some kind of threshold.
Suddenly, the Gospel of Blood blazed to life, and an immense suction force erupted from within it. Her clouded consciousness… suddenly cleared.
The feeling was strange and otherworldly.
She could feel it—though the Origin had almost completely seized her body, her perspective seemed to rise above herself—drifting closer to the Gospel.
In that instant, Charlotte understood—
The Gospel of Blood was separating her divine soul from her body, transforming her into a Soul of the Artifact!
Crimson divine power linked with her soul. Even the deep-rooted corruption within her soul began to be slowly eroded and cleansed by the Gospel.
“Your Grace…”
The Guardian Scepter suddenly spoke again.
“Predestined history cannot be changed. The end of fate will come…”
“So then… how do we rewrite everything?”
How to… rewrite everything?
Charlotte’s thoughts faltered slightly.
The Gospel of Blood pulsed with light.
One by one, arcane symbols glowed across its surface, and Charlotte’s control over it suddenly began to skyrocket.
It was an odd sensation.
If, before, it had simply been a personal divine artifact—now, it was like her own arms and legs.
In a daze, Charlotte realized she could once again reset time itself.
But unlike before, this time… her power felt much stronger.
Charlotte knew the reason: the moment she reached the Creator tier, the Gospel of Blood had evolved as well. And with its evolution, its time-traveling capabilities had also ascended.
It wasn’t just a minor upgrade.
It meant that the Gospel of Blood had now become a Creator-tier artifact!
Even more importantly, because all power had to first pass through Charlotte before entering the Gospel, it hadn’t been tainted—in fact, now that it had become Creator-tier, it finally had the potential to resist the Origin’s corruption.
And on that foundation, Charlotte suddenly sensed something more—
Not only could she once again traverse the river of time, but now… she could travel even further back.
All her lingering doubts and mysteries began connecting—one thread after another. And at last, she grasped something crucial.
“So that’s it… that’s what this was all about.”
“What you were waiting for wasn’t me reaching Creator tier—but for the Gospel… to reach its highest form!”
The Guardian Scepter smiled.
“It seems… you’ve realized it.”
Charlotte sharply raised her head and looked at the Scepter, whose platinum divine power remained as pure and untainted as ever.
“You… you were never Harald’s artifact, were you?”
“Of course not, Your Grace. From the moment I was forged, there has been only one being I have ever sworn loyalty to.”
The Scepter’s expression turned solemn as it bowed deeply before her.
It seemed to be bowing to Charlotte.
But also… not only to her.
Charlotte fell silent.
“I know now what you’re trying to do. I know what you want me to do.”
“But there’s one issue. Traveling that far back in time… will require an anchor.”
“Do you have the anchor ready?”
She looked at the Guardian Scepter.
But this time, the Scepter turned and bowed in another direction.
“That task… falls to you.”
“Your Grace, Lady Lilith—”
…