---

Chapter 128: Her End

“The ruler of the skies can’t lose to a mere meteor shower, but the boy has hit his limit.”

Boiling dragon’s blood ripped through his veins, and Roy, already injured, could no longer hold on and collapsed to the ground.

“Master…!”

On the other side, Alice also slumped down, her breathing increasingly shallow, finding it hard to even breathe, her wings behind her gradually becoming illusory.

The worst part was that her eyes turned cold and crystal-like once again.

The goddess’s Holy Light was merely suppressed by her and hadn’t vanished entirely.

Overexerting the ability of the Seraph would only agitate the goddess deep within her soul, trying to regain control of her body.

“What a terrifying fellow; as far as I know, those who have attempted to control the Dragon King’s power, the blood of the False King, have all met a gruesome end…” The Pope couldn’t help but voice his thoughts.

Sang’s body began to crumble continuously.

Even with the support of rituals and other materials, mid-tier Extraordinary Beings couldn’t withstand high-tier power like the False King could.

Full-force attacks could at most strike two or three times.

Yet even so, his state was still far better than the injured Roy and Alice, eroded by divine power.

“Heh, if it’s you, perhaps you really can end the fate of the False King.”

The Pope casually summoned divine weapons.

Holy Sword: Twilight.

The holy sword that Levi longed for instantly burst forth with terrifying might in the hands of the Pope.

The holy white twilight sword energy was tinted gold by the Pope.

The False King was not to be underestimated, and Roy had pushed that power to its limits.

The Pope didn’t dare to underestimate Roy’s declining state, instead gathering all his strength in this strike, determined to completely eliminate this disruptive variable in fate.

“Too bad, you can only blame yourself for trying to defile the saintess, tainting the blood of angels.”

“This is your end.”

“Farewell.”

Brilliant golden wings spread out behind the Pope, not from any Angel, but from the purest golden Holy Light from the goddess, now indistinguishable from divine power.

The holy sword swung down; twilight fell.

Above the heavens, the supreme illusory door slowly opened.

A strike powered by divine might and carried by the holy sword even triggered the manifestation—that was genuine judgment from the goddess.

At that moment, Alice gritted her teeth and stood up, once again activating Seraph, facing judgment in rebellion.

——————————

The winds and rains tossed about, and ruins spread everywhere.

Thunder sneered across the night sky, while blood and fire danced freely on the ground, clamoring through the demise of the False King.

Amidst the ruins, Roy gazed at a blood-soaked, pale-faced girl with black hair, resembling himself, and couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly.

This moment marked the end for Rowlin.

At this point, he probably couldn’t be in a much better situation than Rowlin, right?

The end of the bloodline of the past False King felt like a mocking reminder, pushed to the extremes of dark humor.

In front of Rowlin stood a golden-haired little girl who was still naïve, at the babbling stage of her life.

However, Rowlin had no choice but to let go.

“Hide, no matter what happens, don’t come out.”

“Alice has always been obedient; this won’t be too hard for you, right?”

The golden-haired little girl seemed to sense something, shivering all over, her expression showing signs of tears.

But in the end, she didn’t cry out, nor did she cling on, only biting her lip and huddling in the shadow of the ruins, watching Rowlin walk away.

She was far too composed, not like a child at all.

Rowlin, dragging her wounded body, turned to face the figure cloaked in black standing atop the ruins.

Strangely, the figure’s image in her memory was hazy, and the aura was unsettlingly bizarre.

But without a doubt, that was at least a high-tier Extraordinary Being who had attained divinity, or else they wouldn’t have pushed Rowlin into such a desperate situation.

He was smiling joyfully, almost exaggeratedly: “Sister, don’t blame me for being unmerciful; I did give you a chance to say your last words!”

“Go to hell; you chased that child all the way, are you a pedophile or something?”

“How rude. The church wants the saintess; it’s them who are the pedophiles; I’m just cooperating with them. All I want is your life.”

The figure laughed cruelly, a terrifying extraordinary wave echoing out, turning into an invisible storm.

Faced with the seemingly insurmountable power gap, Rowlin finally showed a hint of despair.

“Looks like this is our end.”

“Whether it’s saving the world or the fate of the False King, it all ends here.”

Ange’s phantom lowered her gaze: “You’ve done your best.”

“But in the end, can you do me a favor?”

“After I die, your remaining soul will also be taken by him. If it’s going to end like this, are you really okay with it?”

“The fate of the world, the fate of the False King, I can accept it, but at least…”

At least she wanted to do something for her.

Even if their endings were already predetermined, she still wished to leave a spark of hope for the future.

Without words, the tender, night-like gaze conveyed a final determination.

At this moment, Ange returned a smile that was not as saintly and poised, but bright enough.

In the end, the desire to save the world remained grand, distant, and unattainable, but it was certainly not without meaning.

Even if it was just for one person.

The identity of the saintess guaranteed Alice wouldn’t have a mundane ending, but at this moment, the two, reaching the end of their fates, genuinely hoped she would enjoy a fairy tale ending, just like her name suggested.

For this final hope, they would burn away everything left.

Ange grasped Rowlin’s hand, activating the little remaining power to condense pure golden Holy Light.

The bloodline of the Angel became kindling, adding the final flame to the False King.

This was one of the methods Ange had mentioned for advancing to high-tier.

“As a fellow high-tier, don’t you dare lose.”

“Spare me the clichés.”

Joking amidst the banter, the original saintess had already vanished, accompanying Rowlin through the last leg of her life’s journey.

In contrast, Roy’s aura surged violently.

Behind her, dark wings manifested.

The figure froze, finally no longer so flippant.

“Can’t smile now? Good.”

“If you want the bloodline of the False King, then I’ll give it to you!”

The black-winged angel ignited black flames, the shocking extraordinary wave encompassing the entire city.

After an earth-shattering battle, Rowlin and that hazy figure vanished without a trace.

The sky cleared, and a ray of morning sunlight descended.

Only a piece of dark fallen feather drifted away with the wind, wandering towards some corner.

The scene grew hazy, like drifting sands.

When consciousness reassembled, Roy had already returned to the tomb of the former king.

Looking toward the innermost part of the tomb, a black-haired, black-eyed woman resembling him was sitting there unceremoniously, legs crossed, surprising yet not surprising Roy.

“No need for excessive sorrow; you don’t have that elegance now.”

“Roy Ainbrad, my child.”

 

---