Ch.303Storm (11)

“Miracle Manifestation.”

Names have power. Similarly, words have power.

“Pantheon.”

Some things are completed by calling their names. Llewellyn twisted the spear formed from his status window and gripped it in his hand.

Llewellyn called that name and forged it solely for a moment’s miracle. He transformed the divinity in his hand into the shape of a spear and pulled back his shoulder greatly.

The divinity rapidly drained from his body. If he failed now, everything would end.

Knowing this, Llewellyn did not hesitate.

His target was the sky. The universe beyond that sky.

He uses Mourning.

But there were no messages filling his vision now. Only immense strength dwelled within Llewellyn’s body.

With a cracking sound of twisting muscles, Llewellyn gritted his teeth and twisted his body.

The immense power imbued in the javelin blazed with divinity. Llewellyn aimed it high.

He could see the universe. He could also see the death lurking beyond it.

This was his chance. Just like Netel, what was happening now couldn’t be stopped by sheer force alone.

Their power was truly infinite, but they were not the Pantheon.

There might be none stronger than them in this world, but even they had physical limits.

Not everyone possessed infinite stamina like Llewellyn, and even Llewellyn himself couldn’t truly fight forever.

When divinity is depleted, and when faced with enemies stronger than oneself, there’s nothing that can be done.

Eventually, one reaches their limit. Knowing this, Llewellyn did not hesitate.

He imbues all the divinity he had gathered into this one strike.

Then, something like a vision seemed to flash before Llewellyn’s eyes.

A futile act overlapping with his own actions.

A vision bestowed by the Transcendents.

The image of someone uselessly throwing a spear at an approaching tsunami.

A bishop pushing people into an erupting volcano, claiming human sacrifice would appease it.

Humans shouting against raging storms, seeking their gods.

Images that seemed to say: humans are foolish, and you too are foolish.

And that would indeed be true. Standing against that was no different than standing against a storm.

There is nothing humans can do against calamity. All they can do is bow their heads, kneel, and pray for it to pass.

Crack.

But Llewellyn didn’t care.

He knew his limits, his inadequacies.

No matter how much power Llewellyn gained, no matter how much mighty divinity he could wield to perform all kinds of miracles.

Llewellyn was not a being who could live alone.

Even gods made mistakes in this world.

It was common for ordinary humans and even gods, not Transcendents, to suffer greatly due to their own mistakes.

Life and death were like that, all the gods who chose the Great Ascension were like that, and the Steward who couldn’t endure after loss was like that.

Llewellyn acknowledged the limits of his abilities.

He was still human, merely wielding the power of a god.

All gods were the same. Their mistake was not acknowledging that they were no different from humans, trying to solve everything alone.

But Llewellyn was different.

He knew he wasn’t alone.

He was grateful for those who would help him in place of his inadequacies.

He listened to the advice of those wiser than himself and affirmed his shortcomings without shame.

That’s how he was able to reach this point.

So Llewellyn faced the Transcendents.

The visions flowing through his mind ceased. Because Llewellyn had words for those visions.

Against the Transcendents’ persuasion promising power, eternal happiness, and greater knowledge, he said:

That he no longer needed anything they offered.

A single human cannot stand against calamity.

That was certain.

But Llewellyn thought: humans are strong.

Although they cannot face calamity alone, it didn’t mean humans were helpless against disaster, swept away powerlessly.

The visions that rose in Llewellyn’s mind pushed away those scattered by the Transcendents.

He saw images of humans preparing for and facing all kinds of disasters.

People building dams and various facilities to prepare for floods.

Firefighters in heavy protective gear rushing in to save people from fires.

People searching for survivors in ruins collapsed by earthquakes. Kind humans sharing food despite their own lack.

That was human nature. In extreme situations, humans were rather incapable of being selfish.

That is human strength, and human kindness.

It was the same now. Llewellyn raised the corners of his mouth along with his raised spear.

He recalled the countless people who had helped him reach this point.

He remembered the tenacity of humans who fought to the end despite opposing views, and deeply mourned them.

He strengthened his resolve by recalling those who willingly took up arms to protect what was more precious than their own lives.

After all, the purpose wasn’t to shoot someone dead.

The purpose was one: to give what was needed to a powerful being who could stand against calamity.

As Llewellyn twisted his waist greatly, the ground split in fractal patterns. Standing on it, Llewellyn released the spear as he untwisted his waist.

WHOOOOOOOOSH!

The weapon made by humans in ancient times left his hand.

The ground shattered, scattering stone fragments in all directions as it soared.

The weapon first made by humans to protect their families from beasts, the claws and fangs that allowed humans to stand against predators.

The spear forged of divinity flew from the hand of humanity’s god toward the sky.

Those who were fighting stopped and looked up at the sky.

It was like a meteor rising against the sky.

A form that continued to soar as if splitting the sky in two. It soon grew distant, and to those still in the Pantheon, it truly was a line segment dividing the sky.

A line segment separating day and night, breaking life and death.

Strangely, looking up at it, people instinctively remembered the act of prayer.

They clasped their hands together and offered prayers. Not knowing who would receive them or who would answer.

Humans pray. They earnestly wish for that calamity to stop, to finally attain happiness.

Such prayers pushed the spear. It gradually accelerated. A spear flying without making a sound.

A spear carrying human wishes. Netel saw it.

For the first time, she recognized “humans.” She knew their traces through the wishes of all humans, not just Llewellyn.

At the moment it finally reached Netel, the spear that stopped abruptly in midair did not fall.

Instead, leaves suddenly scattered.

They were the same leaves Llewellyn had seen when defeating the God of Night.

Something symbolizing Netel’s transcendence. The dignity of a Transcendent who had gathered strength for this moment over a long time.

Something transparent appeared in midair with those leaves and grasped the spear.

Then the spear swelled. A massive, pure white spear.

Through human wishes and the divinity forged by humanity’s god, Netel moved to execute what she had envisioned for a long time.

More leaves scattered. Massive branches filling the sky swelled, and flesh and muscle filled the translucent transcendence.

It looked like a tree growing around the spear.

With that body she had created, Netel aimed the spear toward the hole pierced in the universe.

In her perception, she still saw the rage of the Transcendents.

The rage promising to tear Netel apart until not even a speck remained.

But Netel was prepared. Rather, she was grateful.

Grateful for fulfilling a long-deferred wish, for finally being able to protect her creation.

And for the fact that there would be a future for this land.

For finally seeing and feeling those who lived on her land.

With deep gratitude, she aimed the great spear toward the universe.

The voice that followed was heard not only by Llewellyn but by everyone.

—!

A sound indescribable by human words or expressions. Yet a voice clearly heard.

Netel’s words expressing gratitude.

With the voice of the creator.

SWOOOOOSH!

The spear flew from Netel’s hand toward the universe.

A hole pierced through Netel, a crack through which Transcendents had seeped in for a long time, causing all calamities through the Great Ascension.

The spear advances through it. Its target is the boundary of the world. As soon as Netel’s hand releases the spear, countless unfathomable attacks from the Transcendents mutilate her arm, but.

It was already too late.

RUMBLE!

The spear swells. The swollen spear shapes itself through divinity.

Insufficient divinity is borrowed from Netel’s transcendence. It swells in a lattice form, imitating all kinds of shells, gradually revealing its form.

The result of combined powers from the status window, Netel, Llewellyn, and humans.

It bears fruit.

Crack, the sky seems to split.

A crack formed as all Transcendents crash into the sky, seizing their last chance.

However.

CRUNCH.

Even as larger cracks ran from the split, Llewellyn felt no sense of crisis.

All living beings under that sky thought similarly.

They sensed that everything was over.

The sky stretches. Beyond it appears a massive, twisted form incomprehensible to human knowledge.

But it doesn’t reach. Extended hands twist and are pushed back, and their screams do not reach.

Knowledge and principles beyond the universe, all kinds of destruction and death remain as omens.

The advancing cracks stop, and the stretched sky returns.

Beyond it, Llewellyn saw Netel already being torn apart by the Transcendents.

The uniquely friendly Transcendent facing terrible pain, loss, and death.

Beyond, as stars resist the Transcendents with brilliant flames, and as Netel stabs the Transcendents with a spear that won’t even leave a stump.

Llewellyn saw a leaf mixed in the incoming wind brush past him.

Transcendence that settled on Llewellyn’s hand and gradually disappeared with a rustling sound.

As the leaf completely vanished, Llewellyn heard.

An incomprehensible voice as if entrusting the aftermath.

Llewellyn clenched his fist and said.

“Leave it to me.”

There was no one to answer, but Llewellyn thought Netel had smiled.

On the land where mother and father had departed, humanity’s god remained.

The mother closed her eyes in gratitude for that fact.

At last, the world that had ended its infancy regained peace.