Perhaps it happened in the blink of an eye, or perhaps centuries had passed. A crisp sound echoed above the Star of Bethlehem fortress. Though faint, it was crystal clear—so clear, in fact, that even the deafening roar of the massive composite ritual connecting heaven and earth was drowned out.
Even the heartbeat seed to resonate with the owner of those light, ethereal footsteps.
Who?!
What shocked Stiyl Magnus the most was that both his vision and magical perception told him—no one was there! There was not the slightest trace of a magical wavelength or spell formula, yet the airy, crisp sound rang out undeniably...
Don’t be fooled by the fact that ever since tagging along with Kamijou Touma, Stiyl is always the first to get smacked around, constantly ending up in the hospital like so weak filler character.
Wrong—completely wrong!
That’s nothing but survivorship bias. Look at the caliber of enemies he’s faced.
Stiyl was a magical prodigy—able to fully analyze all twenty-four existing runes by age fourteen, and even develop six new ones with unique powers.
A bona fide elite magician of Necessarius, the Anglican Church’s 0th Parish of Necessary Evil. A veteran instructor qualified to train others (he had three female apprentices, mind you).
Anyone who could so effortlessly toy with him had to be among the top-tier Saints—or else, what ca to Stiyl’s mind imdiately was that "young, beautiful girl" who happened to also be the Archbishop of the Anglican Church, or perhaps Fiamma of the Right from the Roman Catholic Church.
"Kanzaki... you..."
Especially when Stiyl saw the sa bewildered expression on Kanzaki Kaori’s face, he froze. His eyes widened, and in that mont, a buzz filled his mind as the world spun. The color drained from his face in an instant.
Watching the confusion on both their faces, Selene couldn’t help but sigh.
Compared to Magic Gods—even incomplete ones—Saints were far too weak. So weak, in fact, that even taphors like "children" or "mayflies" didn’t do justice.
Utterly feeble, yet absurdly strong at the top—that was Selene’s most straightforward impression of the Toaru world.
To put it poorly, if Selene’s empire was a classic pyramid structure, the Toaru world was like a giant thumbtack—just a sharp point and a wide cap, no middle layer at all.
The power gap was massive.
Honestly, Selene had newfound respect for Aleister.
By fiddling with the angelified body of Fiamma of the Right, Selene got hands-on experience with the foundational ritual structures of Christianity. The insights she gained were considerable. And with her main body currently positioned just outside the world’s boundary researching overlapping phases within the Toaru world—well, Aleister had it rough. Truly.
Due to the existence of religious, mythological, and Magic God phases, this world was already distorted. Earth, water, fire, wind; cardinal directions; the twenty-six Latin letters—even mathematical nurals were affected. Overlapping phase distortions had skewed magic from its rightful path.
As a result, the learning curve for mages in this world was genuinely steep. It was only thanks to Aleister’s work with the Golden Dawn Society that so many talented magicians now existed.
Why did magicians from the Golden Dawn era seem so powerful? Of course they were! There were so few of them—each one fought tooth and nail to survive.
It was Aleister’s research that simplified magic. Today, nearly the entire magical world had benefited from it to so extent. Saying Aleister was the "father" of modern magic wasn’t an exaggeration.
Seriously, Selene could cry.
The world slandered him, misunderstood him—but it was fine. Selene understood him.
Her hands never stopped moving. Multitasking with five streams of thought at once, Selene was brimming with excitent—like a hyperactive lunatic.
One perspective was still locked onto the isolated, solitary Aleister, watching as he launched a tragic battle against the gods with nothing but mortal flesh, defiantly denouncing the apathetic pantheon above. His proud, upright spine. His battered, bleeding body.
Selene was in tears.
Don’t worry. If you die, I’ll build you a grand monunt!
Right at the ruins of the Golden Dawn Society. Uh... wait, where exactly are those ruins again?
One point of view was stationed on the golden-haired hound Aleister had dispatched, as he explained to Selene. Acting as a relay station, Selene transmitted the paraters of the stolen Magic Gods to the golden-haired hound—Kihara Brainstem. He specialized in calibrating the Anti-Art Attachnt (A.A.A), a magical counterasure armor.
Selene’s consciousness here was full of curiosity.
She vaguely rembered—this thing had actually downed a Magic God before.
Aleister had hidden this little gem for so long, a strategic weapon designed specifically to counter monsters like Leivinia Birdway, Fräulein Kreutune, Aiwass, and other Magic Gods.
Even though Aleister had kept it secret from her for quite so ti, Selene wasn’t angry. After all, they were two of a kind—each with their own little secrets.
Heh, not like she hadn’t figured it out already. Besides, she could clearly sense that the A.A.A was equipped with high-concentration Honkai crystals provided by her.
One fragnt of her consciousness resided within the angelified body of Fiamma of the Right, fine-tuning the "Fish of the Supper" ritual, the Star of Bethlehem formation, the angelic spellcraft, and the power of the Holy Right.
This not only fortified Aleister’s power for extended engagent—it also turned the true Star of Bethlehem hanging in the sky into a "gate."
A gate waiting to be opened.
At the sa ti, her split consciousness remained linked to her main body outside the world’s barrier, in constant communication, awaiting the mont to strike.
The final perspective—
Selene turned her head. In her crimson, rhomboid pupils, the reflection was that of a girl who looked about fourteen years old.
Delicate and charming facial features. Graceful eyebrows, a well-defined nose, soft white skin that looked silky to the touch.
Wavy golden hair cascading to her hips. A wide-brimd witch’s hat perched atop her head. Most striking of all was the black eyepatch covering her right eye, which emitted a faint glow. Her lone visible left eye sparkled like an erald.
Beneath a black cloak with an open front, she wore a daring, black leather three-piece outfit—
A girl dressed entirely in dieval witch fashion.
Othinus—also known as the Norse god-king Odin, the "Magic God."
Can you even call that clothing?
Seriously, why are magicians always dressed so bizarrely? None of them ever wear proper clothes. So it was you Magic Gods setting the bad example all along!
"Othinus..." Just as Selene’s mind wandered, the man nailed to the ground seed to recognize the voice of the woman who had stolen his Magic God throne. "So it’s you... Hah, long ti no see."
Ollerus looked utterly defeated.
His torso and limbs were pinned to the rubble by subspace lances, completely immobilized. Dusty and disheveled, his body was riddled with wounds. Large swathes of purplish-red Honkai corruption patterns made his face appear even more ghastly. He struggled to lift his head, his once-handso features now barely recognizable.
"To be seen by you in such a pitiful state, Othinus..."
"Spare . Truly unexpected, Ollerus. I was planning to reclaim my power and deal with you personally—but I never imagined the world would take such an interesting turn..."
That voice was close—very close. Standing before the firmly impaled Ollerus, the woman’s presence was accompanied by an unusual, heady fragrance that instantly filled the entire space.
Faced with the nostalgic remarks of an old friend, Othinus, whether she had been recognized or chose to drop her disguise of her own accord, showed not the slightest trace of sentint.
It was only now that Stiyl and the others belatedly realized—the enemy was already standing right next to them!
"Kanzaki! Kamijou!" Stiyl shouted, clearly alard.
Kanzaki Kaori’s face turned deathly pale. With the strongest raw stats among them (Kamijou Touma being too unpredictable), she was the one who felt it most intensely. It was as if all the blood in her body surged into her brain at once, delivering oxygen and energy at full throttle. Cold sweat stread down from her temples.
She wanted to draw her sword—only to discover her body couldn’t move at all.
Falling into Kanzaki Kaori’s gaze, despite looking like a youthful teenage girl, the sudden appearance carried the weight of countless years.
That slender figure stood silently. Her aura was so ethereal and unreal that even a passing glance from her sky-blue, single eye made Kanzaki feel imnse pressure. It beca hard to breathe.
"An enemy...?" Kamijou Touma bared his teeth, steeling himself as he instinctively stepped in front of Index.
As though the chatter below her was nothing more than ants, Othinus shifted her gaze slightly, glancing montarily at Kamijou Touma’s clenched right fist as he blocked in front of Index. Her focus did not linger there. Instead, her calm gaze remained fixed on the high platform—the white-haired, red-eyed beauty beside Fiamma of the Right.
"An interesting ’Right Hand’... and an even more interesting person."
Beneath the wide brim of her hat, the shadows obscured half of Othinus’s face. Her tone remained as flat as ever: "To think this dull world still holds surprises like you."
"Your makeup would make for the perfect material for the ’Lance of the All-Father.’"
"Hahaha... using to forge a weapon?"
Selene chuckled softly, tilting her head ever so slightly. Though her face wore a graceful, polite smile, her eyes were filled with icy killing intent. A frigid wind from the deepest layers of hell seed to blow from her entire being.
Recalling the original story, where Othinus had sent her pseudo-Gremlin organization into Academy City to recover "materials"—naly, the durable Fräulein Kreutune capable of withstanding the developnt of holistic superpowers—Selene understood.
Even seeing her now as a re avatar, Othinus had no doubt that Selene’s all-purpose Honkai-adapted body could fulfill the role of a "material." After all, even the "substitute"—the remains of Kakine Teitoku (his organs)—had been sufficient to forge the Lance of the All-Father.
As for whether it was harder to capture Selene or Fräulein—in Othinus’s eyes, there was no distinction.
To a Magic God, all beneath her were ants.
Scheming against an ordinary person or targeting the leaders of all global magical/scientific/secular forces—it made no difference to her.
Before she obtained the Lance of the All-Father, or rather, before she was persuaded and understood by Kamijou Touma, Othinus was the epito of a self-serving egotist. She would use anything—or anyone—that could help her reach her goal.
Selene couldn’t help but laugh.
What was this even comparable to?
Like soone walking up to her and saying, "I need you to help train!"
Poetic justice—after hunting others for so long, soone finally ca after her.
How long had it been? This was the first ti soone had so bluntly announced they were going to kill her and use her body as weapon fodder.
"A defective Magic God, propping herself up with a fake Gremlin... how utterly irritating."
As her words fell, waves of energy particles surged across the sky, blotting out the sun. Even the wind couldn’t cut through them. The dense killing intent swept forth like a drawn blade, pressing straight against one’s brow.
"So, you do know —and know well. All the better. Saves the trouble of introductions."
The one-eyed girl didn’t seem the least bit bothered by Selene’s prison-like killing aura. Her lone eye narrowed slightly as she spoke in her distinct, ethereal, commanding voice: "You are useful for my plan to reclaim my power. I need you."
That "you" clearly referred not to Selene the person—but to her body.
Don’t get mad... Stay composed. Be gracious. Keep calm. Whoever loses control first loses the high ground... Selene silently chanted to herself.
Bitch! I’m gonna kill her!
To hell with composure. Selene pulled out her little ntal notebook and made a silent note: No matter what, when the main body shows up—take her down! Even if I die, main body, you better swallow her whole!
Although she couldn’t let this little bastard ruin the main body’s grand plan, even as an avatar, Selene was never one to have a mild temperant.
She had never yielded to force—only to softness. Stroke her ego the right way, and maybe they could talk. But the mont soone pushed too far, there was no discussion to be had.
VMMM—!
The Honkai energy behind Selene’s back began to surge violently.
Her main body absolutely couldn’t move right now—this was crucial to swallowing all the Magic Gods. And she couldn’t risk shattering the world either. So be it—this avatar would go all out.
Even if it ant self-destruction, she wouldn’t let Othinus take a single hair from her!
She knew full well the avatar stood no chance against Othinus, but those pseudo-Gremlin mbers under her, like the black dwarf smith Marian Slingeneyer? They were just ordinary people.
Even if she died—she’d take them down first!
And that damn Lance of the All-Father? You want to forge it? Dream on!
At that mont—
"Get the hell out of the way!"
Kamijou Touma suddenly stepped between Othinus and the platform where Selene stood.
"Using soone’s body to forge a weapon?! What do you take my friend for?! You call yourself a magician! If that’s your so-called fantasy, then I’ll shatter that fantasy of yours completely! Co at , you bastard!!"
His right hand clenched into a rock-solid fist, brimming with unbreakable will. His face contorted with rage, tears almost threatening to fall from his bloodshot eyes, he shouted with everything he had.
Unexpected, yet perfectly in character.
It seed that in this tiline—Othinus had lost any chance of redemption.
—
—
40 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon:
Patreon/DaoOfHeaven
User Comments
0 comments from readers