Chapter 1115: Before the Resurrection
After organising every detail of the secret technique, Ebner found his thoughts drifting back to the mories he had extracted from Death Announcer—or more precisely, from the remnants of the God of War Gunt’s consciousness.
Recalling Gunt’s impression of the God of Luck, he could not help letting out another long, weary sigh.
"Cruel, cunning, base, debauched...
Those were the words the God of War used to describe the God of Luck...
"Though an enemy’s view is bound to be biased, it still outlines the general state the God of Luck was in at the ti.
"Mm... the ’Liu Bo’ who transmigrated into the God of Luck should’ve been the
who was still in high school.
"Back then, I was the very definition of a chuunibyou teenager—reading web novels every day, full of restless hormones, constantly fantasising about rosy isekai adventures...
"And because that ’Liu Bo’ descended straight into the angelic rank of a mixed-pathway ancient god, burdened heavily by divinity and by the influence of the Unknown, that adolescent personality beca one of the few scraps of humanity left in Him—and was even magnified.
Just like how Little Snake beca obsessed with ice-cream for no logical reason."
This led to the outward behaviour everyone later associated with the God of Luck: occasionally acting chuuni, and enthusiastically drifting between several goddesses... "making friends".
"But beyond that, He was still an ancient god—
A being tainted by the Unknown...
One who committed countless acts that, looking at myself now, I would never even consider.
"Just the miserable fate of the God of War alone proves that sothing about the God of Luck’s mindset back then was profoundly wrong."
By all reason, that version of the God of Luck had already shed excess characteristics with the help of Queen of Calamity Cohinem.
The elven survivors were still nurous; His anchors were stable.
The influence of divinity should not have been that severe.
"So... was it the Unknown?
"What exactly does the influence of the Unknown look like?
Does it force the polluted person’s personality into a perpetual ’uncertain’ state... a shifting instability?"
The thought that one day he would face the sa problem imdiately robbed Ebner of any desire to sleep.
His chest tightened, irritation quietly swelling.
He used Flash to appear atop the villa’s roof.
There he stood, gazing at the faint crimson arc lingering in the night sky, his mind completely tangled.
After so ti, Xio and Fors appeared as well.
They walked over, exchanged a glance, and—without saying anything—sat down on either side of him.
Fors had long developed the habit of drafting manuscripts late at night; when inspiration refused to co, she would wander up to the rooftop to clear her head.
Tonight, she had accidentally discovered Ebner brooding there alone.
Sensing sothing weighed heavily on him, she quietly pulled Xio along—intending to comfort him together.
No... "comfort" was too strong a word.
She knew very well that anything capable of troubling Ebner was far beyond their ability to solve.
But offering warmth, company, and a pair of listening ears—they could do that much.
Ebner had noticed them approaching long before they arrived, yet he did nothing to stop them.
Because right now—he truly needed companionship.
"What are you thinking about?" Xio asked softly from his left.
Ebner was silent for several seconds.
Then he quietly asked:
"If, in the future... I end up becoming soone who is no longer ’’—
yet is still —
still has my mories, still carries my feelings for you two...
What would you do?"
"Of course we’d go bring the real you back!" Xio answered instantly, without a breath of hesitation.
"Only the you we know is Ebner. Only you are our friend."
Fors nodded firmly on his right.
"Exactly. Only you are worth us climbing to the rooftop in the middle of the night to talk sense into!"
Then she paused, blinked, and added:
"Did you run into so kind of problem? If so... why not ask Mr Fool for help?"
Mr Fool...
He’ll barely be able to protect himself in the future.
My situation might actually end up being better than his...
Ebner grumbled internally.
Yet their unwavering tone, their earnest certainty—
Those things alone eased the heaviness pressing on his chest.
The tiny spark of weakness that had ford earlier quietly lted away.
After all—Ebner was fundantally an optimist.
Only now, after thoroughly examining his ntal state, did he realise that his earlier Insight into Death Announcer—despite the protection of the Pure White Eye—had indeed left a lingering side effect.
Death Announcer had seized upon that microscopic opening.
Even at absolute disadvantage, it had used the thin emotional link created by the Insight to subtly shake his confidence.
Worthy of a devil skilled in manipulating human hearts—
Worthy of the forr God of War, a top-tier Conspirator.
No angel was ever simple—
Even if degraded into a re wraith, even if supposedly bound by his own preparations—
Such beings could never be underestimated.
Thinking this, Ebner couldn’t help admiring him a little.
Then his spirits lifted once more—
Because he was not facing the world alone.
He had friends he trusted.
Friends who believed in him.
"Thank you."
He reached out and firmly held both of their hands.
The three of them lay down on the rooftop together, chatting softly, occasionally laughing, their eyes reflecting the distant stars as they shared the quiet night.
...
June 2nd, Thursday.
Backlund, Hillston Borough, Seventh Avenue.
Forr Purifying Light squad captain, Sequence 6 Notary Difo, and forr Machinery Hivemind squad mber, Sequence 7 Appraiser Miss Darcie, arrived together at the residence of a psychiatrist nad Islante.
The third forr mber of Purifying Light, Solar High Priest Dawn, had stayed ho to take care of his elderly parents.
Besides, his ntal condition was mild, harmless even if untreated.
Difo’s ntal state had originally been barely stable—
Until he returned ho only to find every relative long gone, and even his wife and son dead in an accident.
The blow nearly shattered him.
If gratitude to Mr Bray and Groselle hadn’t held him back, he might have already ended his life.
Darcie’s symptoms, however, were the most extre.
Her son was grown, accomplished, happily married.
Seeing him from afar filled her with warm pride—
And imdiately after, with a jagged, uncontrollable jealousy toward the woman in his life.
She knew it was wrong.
She knew it was irrational.
But she simply couldn’t suppress the impulse.
After all, she had survived the endless nightmare dreams clinging to the hope of seeing her son again.
Yet now—her son no longer needed her.
That realisation carved a hollow void inside her soul.
Following the address Ebner had given them, the two rang Islante’s doorbell.
Inside, Audrey—already inford in advance by Mr Tower—was waiting with Susie and assistant Miss Islante (though Susie clearly disliked working beside the latter).
The instant the two patients stepped through the door, Audrey used the Box of Depravity to pull them into the dreamscape and began treatnt.
Watching quietly from afar, Ebner saw Difo and Darcie’s tears spill—first with relief, then with long-suppressed agony.
Their shoulders trembled as they finally began releasing years of pain.
Seeing this, Ebner knew they had been redeed.
He took one last look, then turned away, inhaled deeply, and strode toward Saint Samuel’s Cathedral in the North Borough.
The secret technique of resurrecting his past selves had been completely deduced earlier that morning.
He had not yet put it into practice—
but every instinct told him there could be no more delay.
Among all his incarnations, Alvin Abraham had to be the first resurrected.
Only Alvin could forge further "miracles"—miracles necessary to revive the others.
Which ant his next objective was clear:
He needed to re-enter the Evernight Kingdom.
And that was not difficult.
All he needed was to infiltrate Chanis Gate...
and make contact with the sealed artifact 0-17.
(End of Chapter)
Reviews
All reviews (0)