Shiayar's low murmur dissipated in the evening breeze, unheard by anyone.
"If... I can still return."
But soon, he withdrew his gaze.
Then he looked up, towards the still Red Moon in the distant sky.
CRACK—
It was the sound of sothing breaking. The source of this content ɪs novel✦fire
On that eerily twisted Crimson Red Moon, a fine crack suddenly appeared.
At first, the crack was so slight that it was nearly imperceptible without close observation. But within a few breaths, it rapidly expanded, covering the entire surface of the moon.
Then, SNAP—
The Crimson Red Moon, symbolizing the divine body of a True God, shattered into pieces, turning into countless points of eerie, glowing light that scattered about.
Then, the distorted, blood-red light spots slowly condensed and took form, ultimately crystallizing into a translucent object, glowing with a red sheen and resembling a chess piece—the Stars Chalice.
That was the Stars Chalice that had gathered all the Divinity, all the Authority, of a True God of the Abyss.
In the Echo of History of the Ancient Dukedom Azure Garden, Shiayar had once obtained a Stars Chalice of an Ancient God of Twilight. However, the Stars Chalice of the Ancient God of Twilight originated from the Twilight Half-Body sealed beneath the grand ducal family's manor. It was not complete.
This ti, what Shiayar had obtained was a complete Stars Chalice.
It could also be called—an entrance ticket to the Divine Throne.
The mont he grasped the Stars Chalice, Shiayar's ears and the ocean of his mind were suddenly filled with countless frenzied whispers. It instantly filled him with an urge to praise the moon.
Unlike the Ancient God of Twilight's Divinity that had been sealed for hundreds of years and had beco inactive, this ti, the "Crimson Red Moon" was a freshly condensed Stars Chalice. It still harbored the remnants of the will of that ancient god of the Abyss, whose seductive and corrupting whispers were infinitely more potent than those of any Evil God or contamination Shiayar had ever encountered.
"So you want to bewitch into becoming your new flesh?"
Shiayar looked at the Stars Chalice emitting a strange blood-red glow and couldn't help but smile.
"If that's the case.
"Then, as you wish—
"As long as you're not afraid."
He grabbed the blood-red Stars Chalice in one swift motion.
Then, without a mont's hesitation, he directly implanted the blood-red crystalline Divinity into his left chest.
BOOM—
Light exploded brightly.
However, that was not the light of the Crimson Moon. It was the fla of the magictech furnace core burning.
In Shiayar's eyes, the Runes of the Alchemy Matrix were slowly spinning.
Jet-black invincible tal overflowed, then was constrained, configured, and transford by the Alchemy Matrix into piece after piece of tal components.
And on Shiayar's chest, at so unknown mont, a magictech furnace core, shining like the sun, had appeared.
The blood-red Stars Chalice of the Crimson Moon sank into the Core of the Furnace, its eerie glow instantly devoured by the searing white light. Then, offering no resistance, it was swallowed by the magictech furnace core.
CLANG. CLANG.
The jet-black river of invincible tal engulfed Shiayar.
Then, one tal component after another ford around Shiayar, refining, assembling, and connecting. The sounds of colliding tal components echoed.
After just a few monts, a gigantic, jet-black tal construct stood in Shiayar's place.
The originally incandescent magictech furnace core, tainted by the Stars Chalice of the Crimson Moon, now blazed with a luridly blood-red fla, surging skyward.
This was the newly transford Black Knight.
Although using the Stars Chalice as fuel ant it could not last and was only a one-ti consumable, at least for the ti being, the Black Knight was no longer simply able to contend with Legends. Instead, he had now surpassed the level of ordinary Legends, standing in a realm no chanic had ever reached before.
Shiayar, controlling the black-and-red interlaced cha, slowly raised its head.
Then, his gaze landed on the highest place amidst the Thrones.
Upon the slender, silver-haired figure wielding the Sacred Sword.
Under the do of the sky, above the earth, there were neither people nor gods. There was no audience whatsoever, even on the ruins of Calot, which stood independent of the river of history.
The two looked at each other across the vast sky.
"So, my King," Shiayar smiled slightly, his soft words drifting through the entire world devoid of heaven and earth. "Since no one can correct your mistake.
"Then—
"Allow to teach you this final lesson."
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