On the other side of the torn sky—was that the so-called Heaven?
That paradise, which should have appeared utterly blissful, was now drenched in blood.
Angels, who should have been clad in holy attire, were now drenched in crimson.
So had their wings broken, others their arms severed, and so bore massive gashes across their bodies, their internal organs exposed.
Yet no matter the injury, no matter how severe, as long as they could still move, the angels fought valiantly to restrain an anomaly trying to burst through the ruptured hole.
That anomaly was a mass of black mist, resembling a miasma that spread death. Whenever an angel was caught by the black mist, their entire body beca covered in dark spots.
It was a ghastly sight, reminiscent of the horrors of the Black Death during the Middle Ages.
In the end, the angel would directly turn into a rotting corpse.
And the black mist, as if having devoured the angel's life, grew slightly more solid, faintly taking on a humanoid shape?
"How intriguing. To resist fate to such an extent? Planning to break free from the myths in your true form?"
A sudden voice sounded beside her, startling Erica.
The cal from before had vanished without her noticing, replaced by a youth—one who clearly did not seem human.
What did he an by that?
Though she didn't understand, Erica imdiately realized the youth's identity.
Of course, she didn't know his na, but she knew he was—a Heretic God.
"Hmm? You want to intervene as well?"
The Heretic God frowned and muttered to himself. The next second, what appeared to be a sword materialized in his hand, and he swung it through the air.
It was too fast. Erica couldn't make out what he had cut, nor could she clearly see the weapon.
Then, the youth glanced once more at the fierce battle in the sky and vanished.
Returned to the myths?
Impossible.
Heretic Gods who descended to the mortal world rarely returned to the myths on their own.
It was more likely he had gone to a special place—the Netherworld, a realm known as the "Boundary of Life and Death."
Rumors said that so Heretic Gods who didn't return to the myths would retreat into this world to live in seclusion.
Suddenly, a figure erging from the ruptured hole in the sky made Erica's pupils contract violently.
"A—a Seraphim!"
It was the archangel closest and most intimate with the Lord. As for which one, she had no idea.
This Seraphim also launched an attack at the black mist's coalescing form.
Hmm? Suddenly drawing a flaming sword, that ant this angel should be Raphael.
His fla sword ignited the black mist, turning it into a figure of fire.
And this fiery form was shrinking, being consud by the flas.
Suddenly—
"Ah!!!"
Erica couldn't hold back a scream, as the surrounding angels abruptly plunged their own weapons into the Seraphim's body.
Ah!!!
His head was severed too!
What was happening?
The rebel angels had beco just as horrifying, resembling virus-infected zombies from a Resident Evil film.
As the blade pierced through, black mist emanated from their bodies and swiftly fled the vessels—for the impaled Seraphim had caused the flaming sword's fire to erupt and engulf the surroundings.
The escaping black mist flew toward the now unguarded cavern entrance. Was it heading for the mortal world?
The black mist coalesced into a more distinct humanoid form.
It appeared to be a knight clad in white—no, perhaps ash-gray armor?
And beneath this knight stood a white horse?
Thus, Erica imdiately realized who this might be.
In the final book of the New Testant, Revelation, there is a passage: "I watched as the Lamb opened the first of the seven seals. Then I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice like thunder, 'Co!' I looked, and there before was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest."
This passage describes the appearance of the Plague Knight among the Four Horsen of the Apocalypse.
The Plague Knight is also recognized as the embodint of plague, which would explain the eerie black mist form.
The Plague Knight's descent to the mortal world made Erica's eyelids twitch.
This could be an on of calamity, for this knight is also known as the Harbinger of Doom.
Their ergence symbolizes the beginning of the end.
However, the newly erged Apocalypse Knight, having just flown out of the mythical realm, was struck by a pillar of divine judgnt flas released by the headless Seraphim—as if vaporized into nothingness.
Imdiately, the torn sky rewound like a film reel, restoring itself.
"Ah, my Reinhardt!"
After a long daze, Erica let out a mournful cry. What had beco of her beloved sword, which had transford into a spear?
She found she couldn't summon it back, but she could sense where it had fallen.
So, after half an hour, she finally arrived at the roof of a building and saw a slender sword covered in rust, looking as though it might snap at any mont.
Just as Erica reached out to touch it, her expression grew slightly tense.
The substance on the sword wasn't rust—it seed more like erosion, as if black mist had adhered to it.
Black mist?
Could it be the mist of that Plague Knight?
Was this black substance so kind of contagious viral curse?
Regardless, she couldn't just leave it there. She decided to take it with her for now.
In the blink of an eye—
"I'll stay and keep watch, Uncle."
Fearing a lecture, Erica hastily ended the call after saying this.
Logically, she should have returned imdiately to report, but she chose to remain here, keeping her distance from others.
Primarily, she worried that she might have contracted so curse. Moving around recklessly could risk spreading it, right?
Thus, she was effectively self-isolating, waiting for specialized personnel from her society to arrive.
For now, however, she hadn't detected any abnormalities in herself, and Reinhardt was also returning to normal.
Huh? Looking closely at the sword, the black substance that seed ready to flake off was actually a piece of paper that appeared nearly charred to carbon?
Upon careful observation, Erica noticed this tiny piece of paper was slowly restoring itself?
Approximately five hours later, Erica stared with an unusually grave expression at a book before her—a book adorned with a black cross.
Strangely, this cross bore the image of an angel transford into a skeletal form.
Blinking, she was taken aback once more.
The book was no longer bound in black, but in gold and white. The cross was no longer black, but silver.
And instead of the skeletal angel, two angels flanked the cross, their wings seemingly attempting to shield it, sowhat resembling the depiction on the Ark of the Covenant.
This bizarre transformation sent a chill down Erica's spine.
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