Ashes

Mo Lini looked up at the sky, instinctively parting her lips.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t catch a glimpse of Xia Lun’s battle at all—instead, the sunlight nearly made her eyes water.

Pitifully, Mo Lini rubbed her eyes.

Liyana remained wary of the group of priests standing before them, but they simply stood there, solemn and unmoving, showing no intention of causing trouble.

Aina stood guard in front of Mo Lini and Liyana, equally motionless.

Suddenly, Little Lan, perched atop Mo Lini’s head, hopped down and began bouncing around Aina in circles.

Ever since eating the ice crystal Aina had given it, Little Lan could now leap astonishingly high—so high that perching on Liyana’s or Mo Lini’s heads was effortless. But no matter how bold it felt, it never dared to jump onto Aina or Xia Lun’s heads.

Aina glanced down at the slime at her feet, then suddenly smiled, bending down to scoop Little Lan into her arms. She gently stroked its head—though it was hard to tell where a slime’s head actually was.

Thus, the luckiest slime in history was born.

Being held by the Demon King… If Little Lan could speak, it would brag about this to other slimes for the rest of its life.

The priests ahead suddenly stirred.

Their auras dimmed, and then, as one, they staggered back, some even coughing up blood.

This was the backlash of shattered power.

Xia Lun descended from the sky, but Katheon was nowhere to be seen.

Xia Lun had ended him swiftly—so thoroughly that not a trace remained. Katheon’s body had dissolved into ice crystals, vanishing as if he had never existed.

Despair filled the priests’ eyes. How could the Goddess’ Church have provoked such a terrifying enemy?

The remaining four high priests stood at the forefront, though their composure seemed forced. The other priests, though visibly trembling, showed no intention of fleeing—this was the Grand Cathedral. They would not abandon their faith.

Xia Lun’s gaze swept over them. He had already noted that some among them were not Twilight Apostles.

"Those who have never received the Hero’s Revelation… please leave now," Xia Lun said calmly.

Yet, none of the priests moved.

Then, the expressionless high priestess among them spoke: "Leave. That is an order."

Only then did a scattered few begin to depart.

Soon, only the Twilight Apostles remained.

Xia Lun looked at the high priestess, surprised. "I didn’t expect you to cooperate so readily."

"We are priests of the Goddess’ Church. We must preserve what remains of the Grand Cathedral’s legacy," she replied flatly.

Xia Lun fell silent. He understood—being a Twilight Apostle didn’t negate their identity as priests. The Twilight Apostles were more like victims, their minds forcibly imprinted with a fanatical drive to resurrect the Hero at any cost.

"Shall we talk?" Xia Lun asked.

"By all means," the high priestess answered.

Aina approached from behind, slipping her arm through Xia Lun’s.

"How did you receive the Hero’s Revelation?" Xia Lun asked.

"It came without warning, descending from the heavens," the high priestess said.

"What did the Hero say?"

"Nothing. We simply… knew." Her face twisted slightly in pain. "That the Demon King had stolen the Goddess’ authority and was plotting to destroy the world… That we must resurrect the Hero, no matter the cost…"

"Didn’t you find any of this… unnatural?" Xia Lun frowned.

"Of course. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be telling you all this," she said, her gaze complex as she studied him.

"Then why did you go through with it? The sacrifices… all of it."

"Because to us, it felt like instinct," she admitted without hesitation. "Like drinking when thirsty, sleeping when weary… We simply acted."

Her breath hitched.

"And we… we instinctively believed… that presence was the Hero."

Fear flickered in her eyes—as if she had realized something. But just as quickly, she steadied herself. "He is the Hero."

She was running from the truth.

Xia Lun hesitated.

He didn’t know how to deal with these people.

Before him stood over a hundred Twilight Apostles—nearly half the Grand Cathedral’s clergy, all corrupted by that so-called "Hero."

Yet they were also victims, their minds rewritten, their faith betrayed, reduced to tools of sacrifice.

Though unwilling, they bore the weight of their sins.

And now, Xia Lun couldn’t bring himself to kill them.

"Xia Lun." Aina leaned in, covering his eyes with one hand. "Close them."

A wave of heat rushed past him, and his heart clenched.

"Aina, you—"

When he pulled her hand away, the Twilight Apostles were gone—vanished without a trace.

Only ashes remained on the ground.

Aina slowly lowered her other hand.

Mo Lini and Liyana stood frozen, hands pressed to their mouths. They had seen it clearly—with a mere gesture from Aina, flames had engulfed the priests, reducing them to dust before they could even scream.

"Aina! What have you done?! How could you—" Xia Lun’s breath caught, his hands trembling as they gripped her shoulders. But in the end, he exhaled deeply, releasing her, his gaze softening with sorrow and apology.

"Your reaction is milder than I expected, Hero," Aina murmured. "I thought you might strike me, curse me, condemn my cruelty… I wouldn’t have minded. I wouldn’t have been angry."

"How could I? You’re my wife." Xia Lun cupped her face, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. "Thank you."

He knew exactly why Aina had stained her hands.

Even if the Twilight Apostles could be restored… as devout priests of the Goddess’ Church, they would never forgive themselves for their crimes.

For them, this was the most fitting end.

"I’m sorry… I was too weak."

"What are you saying, Xia Lun?" Aina wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his chest as she gently patted his back. "You are the kindest, strongest Hero. You’ve done more than enough."

Xia Lun held her tightly, as if trying to meld her into his very being. Burying his face in her hair, he inhaled deeply before finally letting go.

"I’m alright now."