Chapter 93: The Tenth Divinity
As Sylvia stared at that conspicuously abnormal triple crown, her expression gradually changed.
That was the original form of the Original Sin. That was the object found on the corpse of a Full Moon cultist. That was the aura lingering within the interlayered space of the sewers.
In this light, could that man with the dragon-horned crown be the so-called Guteland Farians?
And the object above his head—could it be the symbol of the divinity of Order?
She didn’t move, nor did she try to stop this coronation process that appeared childish but was, in truth, a ritual.
Because she couldn't.
What appeared here was merely her projection, while her true body was currently within the City of Alova, which had already sunk into the Manifest Realm.
As he looked at the figure crowning him, Loruze appeared somewhat dazed at first, but the next second, as if remembering something, he accepted it gladly.
Meanwhile, seated below, Sylvia's expression darkened:
"I’ve been used."
“Caw! There's no need to be disheartened.”
“That man gave me an extremely strange feeling. He somehow possessed the traits of both the Priests of the End and the Weavers of Fate, and that crown on his head seems to be a relic of a Dragon King.”
“And that Dragon King belonged to the domain of the God of Order, who also wielded the Authority of Fate.”
Sylvia said nothing, nor did she offer any defense. She simply gazed at the scene unfolding before her.
The moment the triple crown made contact with Loruze, lights began to illuminate one after another—
White, gray, black, blue, red, yellow, green, orange, purple, and the four-colored mixed light upon that crown.
As cracks of pitch-black split open throughout the space inside the cathedral, and the entire city trembled incessantly, Sylvia rose from her seat, tilted her head slightly upward to gaze at the stained-glass dome above, and let out a sigh.
It was coming.
…
City of Alova, Central Plaza.
The expression on Guteland’s face—bearing the dragon-horned crown—gradually twisted into madness, as multicolored lights surged around him, forming the foundation of the ritual.
“I did it. I can feel the call of the tenth divine throne!”
“And I... I shall step into a realm no one has ever set foot in before, attain the tenth kind of divinity, and become a demigod!”
“No... It’s not enough!”
“According to my prophecy, a new god shall be crowned in the City of Alova!”
“That means I shall surpass the rank of Apostle and ascend directly to the divine throne, becoming the tenth and final True God of this world!”
As the mad Guteland spoke, the enormous shadow behind him began to slowly grow a head.
Then, that ferocious dragon face abruptly revealed a strange smile:
“Guteland, are you truly that confident in your prophecy?”
“Of course!”
At this moment, the Priest of the End, whose body had begun to tremble, slowly turned around. The reverence once in his gaze toward this evil god was completely gone:
“I hold the greatest legacy of that ancient Dragon King. In the domain of fate, I already rival the evil god who wields its authority!”
“And with its aid, I suppressed the conflict between the powers of the Weavers of Fate and the Priests of the End, allowing me to achieve a qualitative transformation through quantitative accumulation in the domain of fate!”
“Now that the ritual has commenced, destiny has already been anchored.”
“In the perfect fate I’ve woven, no one can sabotage my ritual!”
The latter half of his words were entirely directed at his opponent. This was the confidence that allowed him to make a deal with an evil god.
However, at this moment, the expression on Hethorik’s draconic face turned increasingly amused:
“The fate you’ve woven... is it truly perfect?”
“Hmm?”
Guteland’s expression suddenly changed, and the shadow before him began to twist and shift—
That was a complete draconic form. That was the King of Loathing and Hatred, returning from his shadowed state into physical form!
At the same time, the lights swirling around Guteland did not merge into his soul and body as he had envisioned, but instead began to disintegrate.
“This... this is impossible!”
Guteland’s voice was filled with terror, while Hethorik’s mocking tone rang out at that exact moment:
“A prophecy is just a prophecy. Weaving fate only points toward a possibility.”
“The intangible future can only be influenced, never predetermined.”
“And as far as I can see, that’s exactly what you’ve done.”
“After discovering that Apostle of an Outer God, you realized you couldn’t easily alter their fate. So you turned to prophetic foresight, tailoring your so-called perfect fate to align with their behavior and preferences.”
“In the end, just to ensure the ritual could commence in its initial stages, you reluctantly arranged for that Apostle of an Outer God to leave.”
“Am I right?”
“But to be fair, you did quite well. You were lucky too. Your prophecy and arrangement didn’t go awry the way I had expected.”
“However, I already disrupted your plan beforehand—”
“Have you been wondering why the Knights of the Tribunal from the Church of Radiance were late, which resulted in the Descension Ritual you assumed would be interrupted inevitably... succeeding?”
“Click. That puppet, originally meant only to transport the Witch’s divinity and draw the Full Moon Sect’s attention, actually ended up attracting the Apostle of an Outer God. That surprised even me.”
“I initially thought this would merely cause a slight imbalance in the fate within your ritual.”
“Besides that, I made numerous subtle arrangements to continually nudge your so-called perfect fate off course.”
“But you, arrogant and conceited, paid no mind to these. You merely used your divine rank to forcibly drag it back onto fate’s track.”
“This led to the outcome where the ritual you so meticulously designed would ultimately head toward failure—”
“Perfectly scripting a play and then having the protagonist enact it in reality exactly as written in the script.”
At this point, Hethorik raised his long neck high, and amusement was plain on his face:
“Have you still not realized? While you can sense the Tenth Divinity, you have never been able to truly fuse with it.”
As he spoke, wisps of pitch-black aura began to drift from his enormous form. His voice continued:
“Besides the inherent flaws in your ritual, there are other factors at play.”
“For example, I was better prepared than you. I am more aligned with the Tenth Divinity and possess a far stronger convergence force than you do.”
“Under my influence, the convergence force of your failed ritual became incredibly weak, utterly incapable of completing the final fusion.”
“And perhaps, everything you did—was also written into the script I authored?”
“Guteland, my script, my ritual... surpasses yours!”
With that declaration, one of his claws slammed downward with a thunderous crash, striking toward Guteland.
The light surrounding Guteland initially managed to block the descending claw, and Guteland himself moved his fingers rapidly, trying to grasp at a certain node.
But he failed.
The chaotic multicolored light collapsed even faster than he had imagined, shattering completely within seconds.
And the opponent, also wielding the Authority over the domain of fate, instantly suppressed him.
“Hethorik! You schemed against me!”
Guteland's unwilling roar echoed out.
The next moment, the dragon claw crashed down. His body turned into a shadowy wisp of nothingness, seized into Hethorik’s palm.
At this moment, the unacknowledged Dragon King stared coldly at the shadow in his grasp with deep purple eyes and spoke in an icy tone:
“Your prophecy wasn’t wrong.”
“A new god will indeed be born in the City of Alova. But it won’t be you—it will be me.”
Then, he curled his claw into a fist and crushed the shadow in his hand. Not even a scream came from Guteland before he vanished from existence.