The Approaching Storm

“If it is Chronos... she might actually be able to do it... Just how many contingencies did you all hide from me?” Li Yue bit her fingernail, pacing aimlessly through the empty, deep blue hall.

“Still... everything is progressing toward the positive outcome I expected...” Li Yue took a deep breath. The black snake scales on her wrist shimmered with an azure-black light, and crimson blood flowed through the veins beneath her skin. If she wished, she wouldn't even need to slit her wrists; her blood could transform into sharp blood crystals, piercing through vessel walls and skin to become the most terrifying weapon in the world.

...

“You are saying that a follower of Death raided one of our primary cathedrals and killed nearly every black-robed bishop?” A knight clad in heavy black armor frowned. He was encased in thick plates from head to toe, with only a narrow slit for observation.

He exuded an extremely murky aura. He stood in a quiet, dark room before a messenger who, upon closer inspection, lacked a lower half. The messenger appeared to be a soul nearing physical manifestation—one of the Soulguides, the top-tier messengers for the high-ranking members of the Specter Church.

“How is that possible... Even during the shift rotation, when no Half-Calamity mages were stationed there, there were at least three Great Mages present...” The voice of the pitch-black knight, who seemed to merge with the darkness, grew increasingly heavy. The scabbard at his waist trembled slightly. A closer look revealed something hidden within it, radiating an intense killing intent and a terrifying presence.

“So, you have come to remind me that a meeting is about to begin, correct?” The pitch-black knight rolled his shoulders, his armor clicking and clacking. His suit of armor was polished and hard; aside from a slight indentation and some fine cracks on the chest, the rest appeared flawlessly integrated.

“This raider is powerful... and in my memory, there is no one among the followers of Death who possesses such strength...”

“Lord Gabriel has not left my sight, so it could not have been him...” The Soul made a thinking gesture, rubbing its chin. Its lower spectral form remained floating, its edges blurring and shifting.

“Just how many hidden cards do they have left? Could it be that what we neutralized back then... was truly just one finger of their so-called contingencies?” The pitch-black knight let out a cold laugh. His ankles sank into the shadows beneath his feet, a technique appearing remarkably similar to Li Yue's Death Abyss, yet this seemed to be a “masterpiece” created by many mages working together.

“It is not as if they could be hiding a Calamity-class Death Mage, a vassal of Death, could they?” The soul-form messenger shrugged, its tone carrying a hint of mockery. “If that were true, it would be a real comedy. A divine soldier descending from the heavens... no, no, no, it would be a god personally taking the field. Heaven truly wants us dead, hahahahaha!”

Its body suddenly jerked violently as if struck by lightning. A pained howl erupted from its mouth, but it was quickly cut short as if someone had forcibly clamped its jaw shut. It could only struggle and twitch in agony until, moments later, even those movements ceased. It became completely frozen.

“Lowly slave... watch your words and your tone.” The pitch-black knight snorted coldly, his body fully submerging into the pitch-black abyss.

...

“Human, your luck is (chew, chew, chew) truly good. Your first time (chew, chew, chew) coming to the court, and you happen to catch the Holy Meal.” Jormungandr's mouth was stuffed full. Just as Clo remembered, her appetite was still incredible, easily biting through tough meat.

“Finish what is in your mouth before you speak.” Metis gave Jormungandr a sharp flick on the forehead. There wasn't much emotion in her azure eyes, but as she watched Jormungandr feign a crying expression, the corner of her mouth couldn't help but curl into a tiny smile.

Astarte covered her mouth and giggled, helping to wipe a stray mark from the corner of Jormungandr's mouth. She looked toward the primary gods presiding on the stage and offered an apologetic smile. The primary god, whose hand rested casually on a wooden spear, waved a hand dismissively, indicating they shouldn't worry too much about etiquette.

A Yue... no, Jormungandr, was actually a beloved figure in this era... It was truly... hard to imagine. But then again, it made sense.

Clo's eyes narrowed slightly. She cast a casual glance at that spear, unable to suppress a flicker of shock in her gaze.

Is that... the legendary spear capable of aiming at the fate of humans—or rather, the fate of all living beings—and piercing through it no matter where they are... Even watching it from a distance inspires a sense of dread...

That is a divine Artifact of Fate belonging to the most powerful primary god of the first era... In that case, the artifact belonging to A Yue, the strongest being who ended this era... should also have the blessing of fate... But it seems I have never seen her use it...

Is it that final piece of authority... or is it an artifact with powerful side effects... No... if it is something like that... I absolutely cannot let her use it...

“Human, hurry up and eat. Stop overthinking things.” Jormungandr held a small piece of steak to Clo's lips. Clo blinked, then couldn't help but smile as she took a bite. Although it was from thousands of years ago, they had their own unique cooking methods; the taste was so delicious it felt like a beautiful dream.

Even after chewing, swallowing, and savoring the memory, a faint aroma and savory flavor lingered in her mouth and nose for a long time.

Perhaps this is what this memory is like for A Yue...

So... incomparably beautiful... yet as fleeting as a passing shadow.