Chapter 216: There Is No Such Thing as a Judgnt Angel, I Have Always Been Emis
Boom—
The Watchtower, that towering spire, finally collapsed.
Under the pull of gravity, every inch of the tallic frawork and components that had ford this colossal structure disintegrated mid-air. Tens of thousands of sharp fragnts, stained with fuel from the explosion, fell in flas.
These fragnts, ablaze and swift as arrows, poured down upon the earth like a storm, resembling a brilliant rain of fire teors.
The storm of steel and fla swept across the entire desolate land. Countless massive tal shards and shattered steel bars pierced deep into the spine of the earth. The scorching airflow and flying debris tore everything within several kiloters into dust.
The thunderous roar echoed across the sky and land.
It was as if this scene had stepped straight out of myth: the broken tower of ancient Babylon, or the final Titan letting out a desperate roar as he fell from the cliffs of Mount Olympus.
And amid the shattered fire teors, a humanoid figure of a girl slowly ascended.
Though her figure was so slender and frail, her soaring silhouette in the flas was noble and majestic, like a prisoner breaking free from her cage, like a phoenix reborn from fire.
The massive broken tal blocks and the violent firestorm fell through the air around her but did not harm her in the slightest.
On the contrary, at the very mont anything neared her, the command of “Destruction” and “Judgnt” was issued to all things in the vicinity—be they living or dead.
The falling fragnts disintegrated instantly, breaking down from tal shards into the most basic iron atoms, never to take form again.
This was the manifested ability of the “Judgnt” Sequence, realized by an angel of the sa Sequence. What was once an illusory rule had been materialized into a concrete phenonon—anything subjected to the “Judgnt” command, regardless of tier, be it living or inanimate, was reduced in an instant to the most fundantal microscopic particles.
This was a truly conceptual power—impossible to resist, impossible to defend against. Just as only a legend could contend with a legend… only an angel could oppose another angel.
The fragnted tallic particles gathered around her, transforming into vast silver-white wings stretching skyward.
At the heart of those heaven-covering wings of steel stood the girl’s form—monstrous like a ghost, yet majestic like a king, as if a chanical empress reigning over the world.
Her entire body, except for her face, bore obvious signs of chanization. Her once swan-like slender white neck was now covered with a layer of pale silver steel armor.
Yet Rast recognized her at a glance.
That was a na he would never forget, not even if he fell into the hellish loop of ti—
“Emis”
They had finally t again.
Not in that gap between Nightworld and the real world, in the illusory town of “Canaan” where reality and fantasy blurred—but in person, face to face.
As if sensing Rast’s gaze, the chanical angel above the distant sky slowly lowered her eyes, casting her gaze down onto the barren earth.
Their eyes t. Rast stood amidst the steel ruins, and Emis stood beneath the sky scorched black and red by fire. The entire world had been drowned in fla and smoke.
From iron and fla, the humanoid chanical angel descended to the ground. Her wings of steel, which blotted out the sky, fluttered and dissolved all obstacles in her path into the most basic microscopic particles, assimilating them into her towering wings.
It was only then that Rast noticed—Emis’ eyes were no longer the sowhat gentle sky-blue from his mory, but golden irises like molten lava.
He knew this color symbolized “Judgnt.” The will currently controlling this angelic body was not the blonde girl who had once lived in Canaan… but the embodint of the Judgnt Sequence itself within the Cup of the Stars—the cosmic law representing judgnt, destruction, and annihilation.
This scene was hauntingly similar to the day Canaan was destroyed in Rast’s mory… Collapsing buildings, smoke-laden hot winds, tal fragnts twisted by the heat, and children—lost and disoriented—buried beneath the ruins.
But this ti, their roles had reversed. Back then, Rast had been kept in the dark, completely unaware. Emis, however, had chosen to join the Artificial Angel Project alone, enduring millennia—perhaps tens of millennia—of solitude, just to et him again in the future.
Now, Emis’ soul was likely in slumber. Rast stood atop the ruins, looking up at the figure of the chanical angel.
Emis—or rather, the chanical angel in a girl’s form—landed on the ground. The steel wings that blotted out the sky dispersed, and she stepped over the remnants of the Watchtower, walking step by step toward Rast.
As he gazed at the approaching humanoid angel, Rast's heart stirred.
[Your main quest in the Remnant of the Age “Disaster of the chanists: The Lost Judgnt Angel” has been completed]
[Your optional mission 1 (participate in the Ti-Limited Event “Deep Blue Port Speedrun Challenge” of the VR Ga “Shoreguards’ Ballad” and achieve first place) has been completed]
[Your optional mission 2 (conduct an in-depth investigation into the Artificial Angel Project and uncover the origin of the “Disaster of the chanists” and the truth behind it) has been completed]
[The clearance conditions for this Nightworld have been fulfilled]
【The final score and reward distribution for this Nightworld mission will be settled after leaving the Remnant of the Age】
【Night Traveler, please choose whether to exit the Remnant of the Age or remain within it】
A deep blue light screen surfaced in Rast’s mind. As long as he selected the confirm button, he would be imdiately withdrawn from this Remnant of the Age.
On the other side, Dean Silver was also watching the Judgnt Angel stepping over the steel ruins and wreckage, slowly approaching, her face full of vigilance.
“What kind of damn bewitching spell did you cast on back then to trick into this ss?”
“I must have gone crazy, daring to face an angel at her peak head-on.”
Dean Silver muttered, and her fluffy white tail suddenly grew larger, wrapping tightly around Rast’s waist.
She had not forgotten what happened during the Battle of the Fractured Coastline—how that old man Sisel had interrupted the Nightworld return process. She dared not rely solely on the Nightworld’s exit chanism.
If the Nightworld exit failed, Dean Silver would imdiately flee with Rast into subspace.
Finally, that girl-like figure ca to stand before Rast.
Her chanical body was clad in a pure white long dress. The folded skirt spread out like layers upon layers of lotus leaves—this was Emis’s favorite style. But at this mont, in Rast’s eyes, she no longer looked like Emis, but had transford into a god gazing coldly upon the mortal world. In her crimson-golden eyes was an indifference toward life and a joy in slaughter.
Perhaps this was the true form of the “Judgnt Angel.” After all, “Judgnt” was a Sequence that reigned through sheer violence.
Maybe she ant to kill him. After all, in the eyes of the Judgnt Angel, he was probably nothing more than a slightly larger insect.
Such a thought flashed through Rast’s mind, only to vanish in the next instant—for he saw the golden brilliance in the girl’s eyes fade away, turning back into that slightly gentle sky-blue hue.
Emis extended her left hand, not to pierce Rast’s heart, but to gently caress the side of his face with a cold, tallic touch.
“Idiot.”
The girl’s voice was gentle, but in Rast’s ears, it felt dreamlike and unreal.
Never before—until this mont, as Emis touched his cheek—had he felt so vividly and unmistakably alive.
“There’s no such thing as a Judgnt Angel.”
“I have always been Emis…”
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