Ch. 220 God’s Move (2)
by AfuhfuihgsChapter 220: God’s Move (2)
Watching Vivi fly away in the distance was oddly satisfying. She’ll plug the hole herself if she doesn’t want to die.
Sugar, having roughly finished assigning roles, raised her staff.
“You go help the Professor too.”
But Riley shoved her aside.
“Why? How are you going to hold those things off alone?”
In that brief moment, the geometric figures had swarmed in—a mass of shapes, living beings formed of planes and lines. Triangles, circles, cubes—countless forms merged and shifted endlessly, a bizarre lifeform that constantly fused and split apart. Their true nature? Pitiful souls who had lost their human bodies.
Without answering, Riley pulled out a Grimoire and immediately began an incantation.
The air grew heavy as the ancient, wicked magic of the tome spread. His calm, resonant voice made their very bodies tremble.
“…—Fragments that devour even light. Black Hole.”
Faster than expected, he finished the chant and uttered the activation phrase. Following his gaze, a tiny black sphere appeared in the distance—so small one had to squint to see it.
—Whoosh!
The moment it formed, an incomprehensible force took hold. It sucked, swallowed, distorted the very space around it with gravitational pull strong enough to warp the background.
The geometric figures were dragged in, helplessly compressed toward a single point without resistance.
The force was so overwhelming that even Sugar, standing far from the sphere, trembled violently before finally latching onto Riley’s waist.
Even now, the figures writhed, trying to escape the miniature black hole—expanding, shrinking, blooming, withering, merging, collapsing. Their eerie, undulating movements were both grotesque and strangely beautiful, like flowers blooming and wilting in rapid succession.
“Ugh! These stubborn things! Why won’t they break?! They’re about to burst out any second!”
“If I increase the output, we’ll all get sucked in!”
The sphere devoured even air and sound, whipping their hair wildly as they shouted. Riley raised his voice in response.
That was why he had cut the incantation short. This place was too confined to unleash the spell’s full power.
They stood in the threshold of a spatial distortion—a preparatory space before the true warped dimension unfolded. It felt like standing between an outer and inner door, neither fully inside nor outside.
Though larger than Steele’s main lobby, it was still no place for reckless magic. Ceilings and walls imposed limits.
“That spell’s good, but don’t you have one that just freezes everything? Something absolute!”
Recalling something from the original story, Sugar asked. Maybe the page wasn’t available yet.
“I do! Of course I considered it! But the entire space might freeze over!”
“Can’t you control the range like with this spell?”
“This one’s sustained! Adjustable mid-cast! That one’s instant! The moment the chant ends, everything freezes—no guarantees! I wouldn’t know when to cut it off! Plus, the book’s been acting up lately—another variable!”
“Why?!”
“Must be going through puberty!”
A justified rebellion. Last time, to escape a trial, Riley had recklessly tapped into the spirits of past successors, thoroughly pissing off the Grimoire.
Clutching Riley, Sugar groaned as a gust of wind stung her cheeks. Burying her face in his chest, she yelled:
“After thinking it over, we should freeze them once, then help at the gate! Or help Vivi! Just try it!”
“I told you, the moment I cast it—”
“Just do it! You’ll make it work!”
“‘You’ll make it work’ isn’t an answer! It’ll sweep everyone up—everyone here!”
“You can stop that from happening! You can!”
“Why do you believe in me so much?!”
“If I don’t believe in you, who else?!”
As Sugar shrieked, the wind abruptly stilled. The rampaging force vanished as if it had never been, leaving eerie calm.
“…Hah.”
Letting out a breath, Riley pulled Sugar—now wearing a smug grin—into a hug and recited a flight spell. As they floated up, the geometric figures, regrouping from the gravitational disruption, immediately gave chase.
Peeking over his shoulder, Sugar watched the spectacle until Riley spoke softly:
“Honestly, I think I’m too soft on you.”
“…Just me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why? Why just me?”
When she whined, Riley only furrowed his brows. Sugar poked his forehead.
“Huh? Why?”
“Focus, idiot.”
He pinched her side, making her yelp (“Eek!”). She glared, face red, but it was useless.
“Halt the flow. Freeze the breath—”
He started another chant, cutting off her complaints. Grumbling, Sugar finally pulled out her staff, wriggling in his grip as she worked her own magic to fend off the figures behind them.
Holding her, Riley felt an inexplicable weight—her presence, the warmth of life. It reminded him of how heated she’d been earlier, arguing with Louveci.
“Back then! With Riley, well Tommy, the version you knew! They kept trying to sacrifice themselves one after another! Do you know how empty and painful that felt?!”
“I NEVER WANT TO FEEL THAT WAY AGAIN!!”
“…I’d have felt the same.”
“Huh? What’d you say?”
When Sugar reacted, he pretended not to hear, finishing the incantation instead.
Still, he felt guilty for making her feel alone.
So he just held her tighter.
‘I, too, wish for you to be happy.’
The thought solidified in his heart like an unshakable vow.
First, an explosion of flames—then, the birth of ice flowers. Shattered, they scattered in every direction.
The sky danced with particles of every element. Riley, clutching his Grimoire, cut through the air while Sugar, nestled in his arms, unleashed a barrage of spells. Behind them, the azure geometric creatures gave chase—a scene straight out of a fantasy.
“Before the great glory, flames wither, and rivers freeze—”
Amidst the chaos, a solemn incantation reached completion. Though it seemed abruptly cut off, it was deliberate—a measure to control the spell’s power.
Pausing mid-chant, waiting for the right moment to resume, or deliberately omitting parts to temper the effect—these were tricks Riley had mastered.
He turned sharply, locking eyes with the writhing mass of geometric figures.
“—The silent kingdom of frost. Eternal Freeze.”
The trigger phrase.
In an instant, the world froze.
A biting cold spread, piercing skin and soul alike.
The figures froze.
The floor froze.
The ceiling froze.
As frost threatened to engulf everything, Riley quickly checked the gate and the hole in the ceiling.
A sigh of relief escaped him. Louveci and Trace near the gate, Vivi floating on makeshift platforms—all were unharmed. The frost had stopped just short of them.
“See?! I knew you could do it!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Sugar cheered as if she’d cast the spell herself, and Riley humored her.
Just then, Vivi staggered, exhausted. Her barrier had vanished, but the ice held firm—they were safe, for now.
“Let’s use this chance to help the Professor… How do we even remove those roots? Burn them?”
“We’d end up burning people too.”
A fleeting peace. The figures were immobilized, the hole sealed. All they had to do was move quickly and escape.
But as they turned to leave—
—Crack.
A grating sound.
The ice sealing the hole was fracturing.
A chill ran down their spines.
They’d overlooked one critical variable.
Slowly, they turned.
Then Sugar’s voice rang out, sharp with realization.
“Damutria!!”
The Evil God’s power, scattered when the pool was opened, was returning. It corroded the ice, shattered it—as if it had waited for Vivi’s strength to wane.
The Evil God had been moving all along. With purpose. With intent.
“What the hell is it planning?! What does it even want?!”
While Sugar raged, Riley silently studied the ceiling.
The ice should’ve been unbreakable—but against a god’s power, it was futile. The hole reopened, and the figures poured in.
“Miscalculation. We should’ve dealt with that energy first.”
“I swear, I just want to send that god to the abyss…”
Sugar trailed off, then jolted as if struck by a thought.
“Wait… Those figures—our normal attacks never worked on them, right?”
“Which is why we resorted to restraining them.”
“But… they couldn’t pass through the pool sealed by the Evil God.”
“How many beings can withstand a mad god’s power? They probably knew instinctively.”
As Riley sighed, Sugar—one of those very beings—recited a flight spell and wriggled out of his grasp.
“Buy me some time against the figures! I’ll try something!”
“Hey—where are you—?!”
Weaving through the creatures, she flew straight for the pool. The Evil God’s inscrutable will, its eerie attachment to her—none of it mattered now. As the black energy leisurely corroded the ice, indifferent to the invading figures, she shouted:
“Damutria! What do you want?! I don’t know what it is, but if you have a will—help me—!”
—
Then, darkness.
“Sugar. Open your eyes, Sugar.”
A familiar voice. Her eyelids fluttered open to find the White Traveler inches from her face.
“Wh—?! Why are you here?!”
This made no sense. One moment, she’d been confronting the Evil God—the next, she was here.
“Look around.”
She turned. A tranquil, familiar forest—her dreamlike inner world.
“You grasp the situation? I forcibly summoned you. There’s something urgent you must hear.”
“Suddenly? What’s—”
“Sugar. Listen. He will speak to you. He’ll demand a contract—a simple one.”
The Traveler’s voice trembled with uncharacteristic tension. The usual calm was gone.
“You must refuse—or rather, you should, but… given your circumstances, you may have no choice. Those figures will keep coming. Your magic is finite. Ugh—I never expected him to resort to this…”
Stunned by the Traveler’s demeanor, Sugar struggled to process her words—
“Wait… So, us entering the pool was some kind of trap? A trick by the Evil God?”
The White Traveler nodded. “For him, it was a gamble.”
“…”
Sugar’s mouth hung open. She was too stunned to speak.
“If this were the mental realm, I could intervene—but reality… I’m sorry. I underestimated him. This is my failure.”
“No, why are you apologizing…?”
“Accept the contract. I believe in you.”
Before Sugar could process the apology—or the word contract—the Traveler placed a small, pale hand on her shoulder. The weight of trust in that gesture was unmistakable.
“And… I have one more piece of advice.”
“What? ‘Don’t trust people’ or something? You’re not about to give me some nihilistic speech, are you?”
“No. This is the most important thing.”
The Traveler smiled faintly, the curve of her lips just visible beneath her hood.
“Don’t overexert yourself.”
“…”
Sugar hesitated, then replied:
“I don’t know what’s coming, but… I’ll try my best.”
As she nodded and prepared to wake, the Traveler slowly waved goodbye.
“I truly do believe in you. My hope.”
.
.
.
Her eyes snapped open.
Clarity returned instantly.
Before her, the air darkened. A thick, acrid smoke billowed, and from its depths, something peeked out—a face half-emerged.
This being had waited for this moment since they’d entered the passage.
A creature perfected by Sugar and Riley’s own hands.
It spoke.
“Do you remember me?”
“You’re…”
She couldn’t pretend otherwise.
“You offered me as the perfect sacrifice to Him.”
The trial in the dream, just before summer vacation—how hard she’d worked to collect its body parts! That nightmarish ordeal, the endless struggles… It ended when they offered this thing to the Evil God, securing their spirits through hardship.
As memories resurfaced, the mannequin-like doll tilted its head and continued:
“But I’m still incomplete. I lack a heart.”
Yet its eyes gleamed with greed.
“Harvest for me your overflowing love—your emotions. Let me take them.”
LegoMyEggo
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