“Ha? Is that even something a human could do?”
Andrea let out an incredulous shout. In her understanding, there were indeed ways to manifest a god in this world, but they undoubtedly required a massive sacrifice from an entire clan.
A single person performing the Art of God Descent was simply unheard of.
Even if it was only one-tenth of a god’s power, it would undoubtedly be a natural disaster for any creature walking the earth.
A cold wind whipped around them. Andrea couldn’t help but lean closer to Ailaira, tucking her head into her white collar to soothe her heart.
She whispered into Ailaira’s ear, her voice shaking slightly. “Do you mean… she might be coming for you? Did you offend her?”
Ailaira tilted her head, a hint of seriousness hidden between her brows.
“I’m not sure. It’s just a hunch. If she wants the ritual in my hands that can communicate with the gods, that’s easy to solve. I’ll just kill her and end the trouble once and for all.”
“But if she’s already successfully mimicking a god and is still targeting me, that means…”
Ailaira didn’t finish her sentence, but Andrea gloomily completed the thought for her. “It means the one trying to get you is a god, right?”
Andrea’s expression was currently worse than a corpse’s. A faint aura of despair clung to her, as if she had lost all will to resist. “Just what on earth did you do!?”
“That’s a god! Why would they specifically send someone to target a human like you? To them, aren’t you and I just tiny ants?”
“Otherwise, why do you think I’m hiding in this small city without a Holy See?”
—
Ailaira landed steadily, pulling Andrea along as she walked toward the inner communication hall of the Merchant Guild branch.
Ignoring all the guards, she directly occupied a sealed magic formation and began searching for a connection to Trinice. While waiting for the connection, Ailaira said to Andrea:
“Gods aren’t omnipotent. At the very least, they can’t interfere with the material world at will without a medium.”
“But a god is still a god…”
Andrea retorted weakly. Things were changing too fast. Just a moment ago, she was annoyed by confusing emotions, and now she had to consider how to survive being targeted by a god?
After a long wait, the communication line finally connected. What came into view was Trinice’s haggard face. Her originally clear features were now bloodless. Ailaira recognized at a glance that she had experienced another Mana Eruption. It had only been a few days since the last one; this was far too frequent. “What’s going on?”
Trinice had actually just woken up. When she was about to be consumed by the mana, the Sixth Saintess, who had escaped Sillirora’s influence, arrived just in time to suppress the turbulent mana for her.
The first thing Trinice did after waking was try to contact Ailaira, but she hadn’t expected Ailaira to contact her first. This was perhaps a kind of soul-deep connection.
Normally, such a small coincidence would have made Trinice’s heart soar with joy, but now she truly couldn’t be happy. She could only force a slight, stubborn smile in front of Ailaira. “I’m sorry, Miss Ailaira.”
“Saintess Sillirora is coming for you. I couldn’t stop her.”
This wasn’t surprising. Clearly, Trinice had already clashed with Sillirora. Since Sillirora could escape even after being discovered, it meant her power had increased significantly compared to before.
As expected, Trinice brought more bad news.
“According to the Sixth Saintess, Sillirora might have mastered the ability to mimic the Mother Goddess of All Things. At the same time, her rank has reached Level 8, and she has mastered a unique ability. It seems she can use the appearance of the person she mimics as a catalyst to cause a massive mana explosion.”
“She detonated Miss Custa’s appearance to escape from us. I don’t know if this ability is because of Miss Custa’s powers or if Saintess Sillirora possesses it herself.”
Ailaira listened intently as Trinice provided every detail, including the fact that Sillirora claimed she wanted to kill the Water Witch. By the end, Trinice’s voice had become hoarse. Her body hadn’t fully recovered, and she coughed constantly.
Nearby, Kabellin handed Trinice a cup of warm water, but Trinice pushed it away and continued urgently. “Miss Ailaira, the Holy See’s attitude is very strange. On the surface, they’ve launched a manhunt for Sillirora, but in reality, they’re letting her act as she pleases.”
“The Captain of the Guardian Knight Order actually abandoned the pursuit, saying it was the Pope’s orders.”
‘As I thought, is that old man who hasn’t left his room in a hundred years finally giving orders because of the Pope’s schemes?’ After confirming the news, Ailaira actually calmed down. What she hated most was the unknown. She said to Trinice: “Thanks. I’ll handle the rest myself.”
Just as Ailaira was about to cut the connection, Trinice spoke up frantically. “Wait! Miss Ailaira, come back to the Royal Capital!”
“Saintess Sillirora now almost represents the Divine Mother’s will. Someone who hasn’t stepped onto the Path to Godhood can’t possibly contend with her. Come back to the Royal Capital; I’ll ask Father to mediate for you!”
The Path to Godhood refers to crossing the nine layers of mortality, where the soul is fully sublimated to embark on the path of self-apotheosis. Only by reaching this realm can one possess even a meager ability to protect themselves when facing an avatar of a god on earth.
Wilandell IX was the best practitioner of this path. If he were willing to intervene, he could indeed suppress Sillirora, who was acting with divine authority. Even if Sillirora was only at Level 8, she carried the dignity of a god.
“It’s fine. As long as it’s not the real thing, it’s just an avatar.”
Ailaira responded indifferently. Then, without waiting for Trinice to speak, she cut the connection. She turned to look at Andrea, who was trying hard to stay calm, and said plainly, “Let’s go. We’re heading back. We’ll be busy soon.”
Because Ailaira hadn’t driven her away, Andrea had heard the entire conversation. She nervously grabbed Ailaira’s sleeve. “Ailaira, what should we do?”
Ailaira glanced at her, pulling the red-haired girl who was about to curl into a ball along with her. She said, “When did you become so cowardly?”
“It’s you who’s too bold! That’s a god! I’m even afraid of the gods of my own Dragonkind; how could I not be afraid of yours? What if she despises a member of the Non-Human Races like me being on her territory and strikes me into charcoal!?”
Andrea was trying desperately to maintain her human form, wishing she could wash away every trace of her dragon aura. In contrast, Ailaira was quite calm. Or rather, she had already accepted the reality. Since the Pope had made his move, she could only find a way to deal with it. A Witch’s rationality wouldn’t let her fall into fear; instead, she felt an anticipation for the coming collision.
She patted Andrea’s head, covering the tips of the dragon horns that had popped out due to extreme tension. “Don’t worry,” she said casually. “If the sky falls, someone tall will prop it up.”
“But in this case, aren’t you the tallest one!?”
“Exactly. So what are you worried about?”
Ailaira took Andrea’s hand and pulled her into her arms. Her voice, full of strength, whispered into her ear: “You just need to complete your trial and keep watching over the Kuchil Tomb.”
“Leave the rest to me.”
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