Chapter 99: Holand
"You... you’re not an Apostle!"
A furious and fearful roar echoed from the heights above.
Unlike the flashy combat routines among lower-tier extraordinary beings, battles between higher-tier existences were essentially clashes of light and shadow—concealing beneath them a confrontation of authorities and divine ranks.
Of course, certain extraordinary paths still displayed flamboyant and magnificent traits.
Witches, for example. And also, the Scribes.
In the recent clash, there had been no dazzling exchange between Sylvia and Hethorik—only a contest of divine rank.
Ultimately, at the cost of her consciousness nearly collapsing, Sylvia leveraged the Authority of Wrath. Before Silquaya the Faceless's descending power had truly reached the level of a True God, she forcibly elevated it—delivering a fatal blow to her opponent.
"I... huh... when did I ever say I was?"
Though her gaze was sowhat scattered, Sylvia’s tone still carried a trace of mockery.
"No! Then why are you like this?"
"Your state is wrong—you’re not Silquaya. You’re not Him!"
"No, you are Him! No, you can't be Him!"
"You’re going to collapse! You’re going to die!"
"If I can’t ascend, neither can you! Hahaha! Neither can you!"
"Guteland's prophecy was inaccurate—he prophesied wrong!"
"No—he didn’t!"
"A new god shall be crowned in the City of Alova—not outside it!"
"You bastard! You ruined everything for !"
At that mont, Hethorik’s voice gradually turned deranged. The endless darkness surged into his body at an accelerating pace, while his divinity ebbed away just as quickly.
That endless darkness was the product of a kingdom's reversal—a terrifying force capable of twisting even an evil god’s nature.
The shadow dragon plumting from the heavens neither flapped its wings nor struggled. It let itself fall into that boundless void.
It had gone mad.
With an icy gaze fixed on her foe, Sylvia let out deep, thunderous breaths.
With each rhythmic inhale, the surrounding starlight seed to co alive, surging outward like a tide.
A few seconds later, her voice, heavy with agony, rang out:
"No—his prophecy wasn’t wrong."
This ti, Sylvia's voice no longer stuttered. Though still composed of countless overlapping tones, it flowed smoothly and coherently.
The mont her words fell, she laughed—wildly and without restraint.
As Sylvia’s eerie laughter echoed throughout the Manifest Realm, the starlight upon her body ignited once more.
And as it burned, it underwent rapid transformation!
No longer dark, deep, or resplendent!
This was the Original Sin!
The Original Sin refined by Sylvia from the black aura!
"Hethorik, the essence of the extraordinary path lies in convergence—convergence of various extraordinary powers, convergence of various divinities, and thereby stepping onto a higher rung."
"Rituals are but one thod of convergence, but by no ans the only one."
"If your rank is high enough, then forced convergence is entirely possible. Tell ..."
At this point, Sylvia, whose form no longer resembled anything human, paused mid-sentence.
anwhile, the brilliant starlight that had connected the upper and lower levels of the Manifest Realm completely vanished—replaced by the pitch-black Original Sin!
"Am I right?"
The mont her words dropped—
"Boom!"
"Buzz!"
The fissure that had just closed burst open again. Endless darkness surged forth like a tidal wave, and the instant it touched the Original Sin, it was assimilated—becoming a part of it.
But that wasn’t all. Divinity ford of yellow, olive, reddish-brown, and black hues interwove with the tide of blackness and rushed into Sylvia’s broken body.
At that mont, faint strands of starlight escaped again, only to be instantly devoured by the Tenth Divinity.
"This... impossible!"
Hethorik, driven mad, regained a fleeting mont of clarity, his deep purple eyes fixed unblinkingly in Sylvia’s direction.
Simultaneously, the great door to the Divinity Realm swung open once again with a thunderous sound, and a profound aura seeped outward.
"Ladies and gentlen, an Outer God stands before us, attempting to ascend to our godhood. Isn’t this laughable?"
The mocking voice of the God of War rang out, as crimson light condensed within, forming a burning spear. In an instant, it shot through the gate of the Divinity Realm, hurtling toward Sylvia.
Yet, just as the crimson spear left the gate, it was swallowed by pure-white light.
"Why not?"
The voice of the Lord of Radiance carried a hint of amusent:
"If even evil gods may attempt deification, then why not Outer Gods?"
"You—!"
The voice of the God of War instantly turned furious.
But in the very next second, the sound of interlocking gears rang out abruptly, accompanied by the toll of a bell, and green light began to spread:
"Agreed."
A flat, chanical voice rang out—echoing the words of the Lord of Radiance.
The God of Machinery!
Suppressing her own agony, Sylvia suddenly raised her head and looked toward the gate of the Divinity Realm.
"How laughable."
A chilling voice echoed—the River Council had spoken.
"So, it seems you intend to interfere this ti, is that it?"
The Lord of Radiance still spoke with a smile, though a trace of nace now colored his tone.
"She is, after all, an Outer God."
This ti, the God of Order voiced their opinion.
"Very well."
The Lord of Radiance’s voice turned cold in an instant.
And in the very next mont, pure light erupted, transforming into a boundless ocean that swallowed everything in its path—including the gate of the Divinity Realm.
"Agreed."
The synthesized chanical voice rang out once more, as erald light dissolved into particles and rged with that pure-white sea.
"Two against seven. I can’t hold them for long."
"Do your best to hurry."
As the gate of the Divinity Realm closed, the Lord of Radiance’s voice reverberated through the Manifest Realm, leaving Sylvia montarily stunned.
What was going on?
What had just happened?
But she didn’t have the luxury to think further—for the excruciating pain within her soul made thought impossible.
"Why?"
Hethorik’s voice turned mad again.
The Tenth Divinity within his body had now been completely extracted and absorbed into Sylvia.
Now, within the body of this forr evil god, nothing remained but endless blackness and a fragnted, multicolored divinity.
It was his original divinity, yet just now, it had been torn apart by the clash of extraordinary powers.
Now, he could no longer maintain his apostolic rank, and began to plumt uncontrollably.
"Hah... hah..."
Sylvia’s breathing was still laced with pain, but compared to before, there seed to be a slight improvent.
As her pace of divinity convergence gradually increased, the four-colored crown above her head also began to take shape.
Was she about to succeed?
Exhausted, Sylvia floated in midair within the Manifest Realm, while the howling in her ears slowly faded, and the chaotic voices beca fewer.
Until finally, she could begin to discern the anings behind those howls.
There were languages familiar to her, languages unknown, and languages that were both familiar and unfamiliar.
And among them, that most familiar tongue drilled straight into her thoughts—
"Ho... land..."
"Go... ho..."
In that instant, she froze—and the flow of divinity into her body abruptly halted.
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