Ash listened, his blood surging. The strongest five Mages in history joining forces and fighting side by side—this wasn’t just the first ti, it was probably also the last.
Before such an unprecedented spectacle, who wouldn’t be moved?
He even thought that once he went back, he’d extract this mory and show it to the Sword Maiden and the others; as Mages, missing this scene would be far too much of a pity—
"But in the end, it’s just a firework show. A futile one."
Death Mad looked at the eight-winged creature that could be broken but not toppled, deep fatigue flashing through her eyes. "It’s like this every ti. Every ti, the last light of civilization will flare up, but after that brilliance burns out..."
"Cos a long, endless night."
No matter how severe the attacks it suffered, Uroboros neither defended, nor dodged, nor counterattacked. It didn’t feel like a living thing, but more like a natural phenonon, a running program. Aside from its hatred toward all things in the world, it had no extra emotion.
It was like shooting arrows at the sun, pissing at the ocean, howling at a raging wind—do you think they’d respond to you?
They will fully accept your arrogance, and hand down equal judgnt from on high.
The eyes of Uroboros opened one by one, and its body healed at an inconceivable speed. The mist of the Blood Moon Feast began to collapse, futures that had been pinned down were reset, twisted thoughts of Free Will were smoothed out in an instant, and the Domineering power of destruction was blocked as well.
Even the husk that Dazzling Star had cleaved apart knit itself back together. Perhaps beneath the Starry Sword it truly was as soft as butter, but just because butter is cut open doesn’t an it dies.
It could be damaged, but it would not die, because it was the endpoint of Death itself.
Eight-winged · Serpent’s Glance!
Endless, boundless gazes once again flooded the Fantasy Hell. Although the Divine Lords imdiately blocked it and launched a counterattack, although the starry-sky swordfall of Dazzling Star once more tore open the body of Uroboros, Ash noticed so ominous signs.
The offensive of Uroboros was growing stronger with ti. Maybe it was grumpy from just waking up, or maybe it just needed to warm up; after several exchanges, although it was still using the sa attack, its intensity had multiplied several tis. If earlier it had the power to wipe the Fantasy Hell clean once, now it was at the level where it could pierce through the Level Six of Hell—this wasn’t a figure of speech, the Hell Space was really fracturing; who knew if it might actually punch through the layers of Hell.
In contrast, the might of the Divine Lords was slowly dwindling. Maybe They still had plenty of resources, maybe Their Heavenly Kingdom machines could still keep running, but machine parts do wear out. In past Heavenly Wars, They could keep the intensity of the war within a certain range, so that even if They themselves took losses, the enemy would definitely take losses too. But this ti Their enemy was the World Snake: infinitely regenerating, endlessly growing stronger.
Just like Death Mad said: once They couldn’t kill Uroboros in a single blow, everything thereafter was nothing but futile struggle.
"It’s over."
Death Mad lit a cigarette, took a drag, exhaled a faint smoke ring, and said, "Not only can They not get rid of Uroboros, They can’t even leave themselves. Uroboros has fully entered battle mode now—whoever dares leave through the breach, Uroboros will definitely seize the chance to slip through."
"Once the Level Six of Hell develops a breach, this world enters its final countdown."
"The last Demigods, the last Divine Lords, the last Supres, all of them will fall here." Death Mad glanced at him. "Except you."
"Though They’re dood to lose, They can at least hold out for a few months. You just need to wait another hour or two, then you can go back and hold your Sword Witch in your arms. You won’t even need to worry about Dazzling Star’s coveting gaze—every enemy that could threaten you is down here in Hell. You could even take the chance to step into Heaven, and spend your final days getting a taste of what it’s like to be a Divine Lord."
"Set aside all your troubles, and just enjoy these last few months to the fullest." she said. "When Uroboros invades reality, that will be the mont we take your place."
"But that should be a good thing for you. At least you won’t have to witness the End. Your mories will remain at the most beautiful mont."
Ash stared at her blankly, as if he’d just heard sothing unbelievable.
"No chance left?"
"There was never any chance from the start. You’re the one who wanted to struggle; I’ve just been watching you struggle from the sidelines."
"Is there really nothing—"
"The Supre of Magic, four Divine Lords, the Gods of Four Pillars," Death Mad laughed. "Every power you can imagine is already gathered here. What other reinforcents do you want? What other Miracle are you still hoping for?"
"This is the scene you’ve been longing for: all the strong gathering to hold up a sky on the verge of collapse. And now you’ve seen it—They can’t hold it."
"Tens of thousands of years of Mage civilization, all cashed in for a few final months of peace. What exactly are you dissatisfied with?"
Ash opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say. He only felt a fire burning in his chest. Yeah, Death Mad had told him from the very beginning that this world had no hope. He was the one who insisted there was still a way, who thought that if he pillaged Hell and grew stronger, he could wrestle out a sliver of survival... but it had all been nothing more than his own self-consolation.
The End-Ti Five didn’t know how many apocalypses they’d been through, how many civilizations they’d buried. Though they were the future selves of Ash and his four companions, their experience was who knew how many tis greater. They were practically super-charged, overclocked versions of Ash’s group... and even they could only flee Uroboros by going against the flow of ti. On what basis did Ash think he could create a Miracle?
He’d just been running away—unwilling to admit reality, refusing to accept that he only had a few months of Life left... He had finally found soone he liked, soone he treasured, soone entangled with him, soone he was obsessed with—and those were four different people. How could he accept that the happiness he’d finally grasped already had a death date stamped on it?
Only when he saw that the Supre Star and the four Divine Lords were no match for Uroboros did the last trace of luck in Ash’s heart shatter. He had no choice but to accept reality, no choice but to face Despair head-on.
There was no one he could rely on.
Had he known it would turn out like this, he might as well have listened to Death Mad from the very beginning—given up struggling, given up adventuring. Then at least he wouldn’t have sold his mind twice, wouldn’t have lost half his mories, wouldn’t be treating a lover who had once been so intimate as the most familiar stranger...
Death Mad watched Ash wilt like a withered flower. That face of his—so dumbly hopeful like Lala Fat’s—finally dimd. About ti, she thought. Hope is a half-awake, half-mad kind of burning, letting a lost soul fantasize that it lives in the future... but they didn’t have any future. They could only seize the present.
Hope without an outco is just self-anesthetizing liquor. After being drunk on it for a few months, it was about ti to sober up.
She flicked off so Smoke Ash and said calmly, "Go back, and with the Sword Maiden, you should—"
"What about and you?"
Ash lifted his brows, flas seemingly burning in his eyes. "If I and you all join this war too, can we hold this world?"
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