Xingyue, is Xiaokai also considered Kai?

The sharp, star-like light gathered in his hand, and in an instant, surging power flowed across its blade, weaving into magnificent and intricate patterns, bursting forth with the brilliance of the sun.

"Oh?"

Upon seeing this, Qi Huang suddenly realized what was going on, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

Is it trying to use the same blow that defeated the giant god Sephalus as a last stand?

How foolish! After all, the planet doesn't consider me an enemy of the stars.

From amidst countless ethereal cannons and phantoms of the moon, he moved forward, raised his arm, and thrust out a blow with a silent roar.

The full power of the Holy Sword and the Demon Sword combined—

The light flickered, quickly fading, and should have vanished completely.

The savior originally thought that this was just an offensive move and there was no need to pay attention to it. However, she never expected that it was a move that completely sealed off this place, even trapping her here, reaching a point where she would be unable to leave as long as the human spirit existed.

Thus, for the first time in her life, her voice, filled with rage and shame, erupted from within the boundless world of light.

"what have you done!"

In the only place of darkness, Avia calmly watched her.

"The day you longed for the arrival of Eden has come to an end."

163: In That Withering Away—(End of Volume) (8k)

"Ha, ha ha... ha ha ha!"

Qi Huang seemed amused by Avia's words, laughing heartily.

"So what if you prevented the alien god from descending!"

The savior suddenly reached out and slowly tightened his fingers around the man, his smile demonic: "So what if you make me stay here forever!"

"So what if that's the case!"

With a swing of her arm, Avia was pulled up and slammed to the ground.

The physical injuries were certainly painful, but in the midst of the loss of full authority over the Norse and the protection of Typhon, a searing pain, etched into his very being, resurfaced and tormented him, like cold steel striking him repeatedly, shaking his consciousness and causing his vision to blur.

At the same time, Avia seemed to hear something.

It was a voice that gradually transformed from prayer into a call, a voice that meticulously recorded sin, but he rejected it without hesitation and stood up.

"You will always be here, such a sinful soul, surely you will be judged before revelation arrives, and that is why your eyes, nose, ears, internal organs, and even bones will soon leave you."

But I can assure you, you will continue to live. I will replace all my blood with the most unbearable poison of death, and on that basis, I will use bone regeneration to fix your soul. Your soul can even be continuously replenished with vital essence, slowly and steadily repaying your sins for obstructing revelation.

The savior's eyes were gentle, but the expression he displayed at that moment was like that of a person looking at a fed animal—a loving gaze filled with a deep-seated joy and anticipation.

"Until one day, when the long, long, long, endless love of redemption ends, before the arrival of Eden, everything you have will be dissolved, and you can die in joy, your soul's ashes merging into the sinful world."

As for me, until that day, I wouldn't let any part of a guy like you go to waste.

The savior smiled, raised his hand, and suddenly kicked forward. A terrifying force erupted, and amidst countless ethereal energy cannons and lunar phantoms, only one person stood in front.

Finally, what can you do now?

The endless moonlight, radiating a purplish-blue hue, possessed substantial edges and heat. Following this, countless magic cannons erupted, their attacks forming an impenetrable net that enveloped the man, leaving him with no possibility of escape.

"...It really doesn't work."

Avia gripped the primordial holy sword, now devoid of its luster and fused with the demonic sword, the True World, tightly in her hand.

Because this body has fallen into the clutches of the Dead Apostle, as someone who denies human history, he is now utterly evil to humanity, and can no longer make the strongest fantasy of the planet shine again. That rightful supreme honor and glorious path have simply vanished.

Although he stood in that boundless world of light, he was actually in the middle of a narrow, dark, and dangerous bottom line, where he stayed alone without caring.

With each passing second, it seemed as if we were falling a step closer to death.

With each passing second, it seems as if we are moving further away from being alive.

Even so, it remained steadfast and unwavering.

because--

Powerful fantasies are fine, whatever; whether it's planetary or human recognition is fine, whatever.

The man's consciousness had become ambiguous and blurred, as if he were in a world unfolded by thin clothing, constantly prolonging and repeating the nightmarish and extraordinary.

How much time had passed? How many days and nights had gone by? He couldn't even tell anymore. In fact, he didn't care anymore.

What sustained my spirit was not being a hero or anything else, but simply the determination to push myself to the limit.

When moving your body, avoid the Falling Moon of Death with minimal movement.

Even when your spirit is breaking down, you must not give up.

In the eternal darkness, even the bodies of the Dead Apostles were crumbling, and the sound of their hearts beating could no longer be heard... There was a crushing sound, the heart was crushed, the bones were crushed, the flesh was crushed, and the nerves were torn apart bit by bit with a "crunch, crunch".

Beneath the already dimmed dream of the stars, the darkness of the end will inevitably be defeated by the holy purple orchid. The time is ripe, and the ancient bells will ring once more.

The bells will ring across the gradually whitening earth, and a brand new world is about to begin.

Just like that, the world will surely arrive at a new heaven and new earth, filled with 'redemption'.

The first bell tolled, followed by hail and fire, destroying all the plants in the world.

The second bell struck the ocean, causing the death of all marine life.

The third bell tolls, signifying the drying up of the oceans and the disappearance of water from the world.

The fourth bell, in the darkness of the sun and moon, awaits death in eternal darkness.

The fifth bell, a torrent of demons, proclaims the arrival of the land of destruction.

The sixth bell, the devil's army, struggle will become meaningless.

The bells tolled across the promised land, under the world's destined savior, at the moment when a truly new world would finally be ushered in.

The seventh bell, the seven bowls of wrath, the delayed new world will finally arrive.

This is a happy ending that the destined savior would absolutely applaud.

The man recalled the past, the day he fell from the sky, and the words the One God spoke to him.

Even though a nod could solve everything, he, just like that day, refused to nod.

Because life has value. Even if a creature can only repeat sins, even if humanity itself has no value, no matter how filthy, how unjust, or how imperfect it may be, its accumulated history is still meaningful. Even if we keep repeating mistakes, as long as we can still do something, there must be something that can be saved.

It is wrong to use these reasons to destroy everything. The reason why we cannot tolerate injustice and feel resentment over endless tragedies is because we yearn for a happy world from the bottom of our hearts.

Therefore, no matter how painful it is, I will not hesitate to do it.

After all, when it comes to making a real decision, even if it hurts one's pride, once a decision is made, the things that should be done must be done.

“Qihuang, you believe that you are the god in your own heart. However, pursuing the god in your own heart means dependence. Dependence on the god means giving up thinking and judgment. What the god says is right is good, and what the god says is wrong is evil—yet there is no will of your own in this process.”

It's not about a specific, existing god, but rather the way of thinking that shapes the god in your heart. Anyone can become your god—a teacher, a friend, an acquaintance—the person you rely on is precisely what you call your "god." You can draw on the wisdom of those who came before you, and you can consult with those you trust.

However, the judgment is yours; God is merely a signpost, a goal to strive for.

Those who have no light in their hearts will be crushed by the darkness called hardship and suffering.

Perhaps this was just the unconscious behavior of a lifeless body, but the man still said it.

"Therefore, one must be small in order to feel the grandeur; one must be fragile in order to revere the tenacity; one must be short-lived in order to feel the eternity; one must be able to think in order to feel the ingenuity of the Creator's design, yet one cannot be omniscient, lest everything become transparent in an instant."

One day, they will encase their fragile bodies within metal seeds, fly over all the desolate and prosperous worlds, and perceive things that even gods cannot perceive. Perhaps this is the true purpose of their existence.

This is true life, and being a witness to it—”

It is said that the Star Sword can only be used by those who bear the tragic wishes of the planet. As a sword to sever enemies beyond the planet, it is the strongest sword that should only be wielded to save the world.

Dead Apostles are deniers of human history, beings who exist to taint human order. How could they possibly gain the approval of humanity, the dominant species on this planet?

Moreover, the enemy they face is humanity's natural savior, the strongest being on the planet at this moment.

For men today, simply being alive is an act of defiance to the planet and to humanity. The Dead Apostles are seen as evil beings, beings that are denied.

In other words, how could the Dead Apostles genuinely protect humanity, and how could humanity completely trust the Dead Apostles? Based on the understanding of both races, this is utterly impossible.

Only in the face of rightful glory and mission will the Holy Sword of the Stars shine and be unleashed once more.

He smiled, closed his eyes, and exhaled his last breath.

"God won't do, it can only be a human."

After consuming the miracle, all that was gained was a slow stop; the man's strength was long gone, and he should have collapsed anyway.

His battle was over, and his fate had come to an end.

What is etched in the eyes of those who remain?

It is the passing of everyone's lives, their arbitrary definition, the things they built, the lives they lived, all defined as meaningless. Then, ashes return to ashes, dust to dust, illusion to illusion, and then dreams to dreams. Everything vanishes into nothingness. Is this cruel end, seemingly insurmountable for anyone?

No.

The passage of time is enough to turn the ocean into mulberry fields, and the great achievements of heroes of the past are now buried deep in the dust.

Lush, verdant trees will take root in the earth, and the sounds of steel will fade into the distance.

The once vibrant and diverse civilization will eventually disappear without a trace.

despite this--

Humanity will continue to survive tenaciously, and the covenant of goodness has now transcended time and will continue to be passed down.

People are discovering something different; a future that was denied in the past actually exists.

That is a future denied by someone who made a pact of good, and it is also an existence that must be protected.

Even if the body collapses, it will not fall; even if ideals are extinguished, they will not be extinguished.

It will never disappear, it will never be defeated.

No matter what kind of weapon or end it is, it will not shake the man's way of being in the slightest.

In the end, however, the will continues.

Therefore, the real battle is not over yet, but rather begins here—

No living being could witness it, but a true miracle was born.

The myriad colors of light and countless hands truly supported the back of the man about to fall, who, even though his hands were no longer able to grasp the only holy sword, steadfastly fulfilled his vow.

"If the deep darkness shrouds the forest, then we should illuminate it with the light of a torch, that's what you said, right?"

The figures who fought together to slay the dragon.

"Is everything alright? I'm waiting for you to come back for a drink."

The figure rushing towards the sea monster.

They were making sounds from their throats as if they were asleep, and the warmth within reach would surely become tomorrow's sustenance.

A small exchange of kindness can bring about a heartwarming miracle, and that is exactly what it means.

In the darkness, Avia raised his head and heard the sounds from afar emerge continuously, like countless tiny points of light dancing before his eyes, illuminating the long and lonely road.

When he raised his eyes, he saw the broken clouds beyond the world, the stars shining under the bright moon, the blood-red sea dissipating, and a gentle and warm breeze emerging.

At the very edge of his sole darkness, the outline of the world faintly emerged.

And more voices are rising, more prayers, more gratitude, more calls.

Little by little, countless souls reassembled, following their guidance, as he gazed at the countless rays of light that flowed past before him.

Unbeknownst to them, the darkness had been illuminated by that endless light.

The long, lonely road is already filled with stars. In the lively meteor shower, the noise rises and falls. When they brush past each other, those unknown souls give him a grateful smile, tell him their names, and then return to the sea of ​​stars.

One name after another overlapped, lifting his body and guiding him to stand up, returning from this cold and empty end.

When he looked up, he saw a vast rain of light falling from the darkness, landing in his empty hands, each drop carrying a smile from someone.

He gazed at the shower of light, smiled, said "Thanks," and continued to smile.

The sounds that followed were indeed etched into the broken soul.

"This is a war for mankind." — Acknowledgment, the Twelve Apostles of the Church.

"This is a Dead Apostle." — Acknowledgement, Eltrudge Brunstad.