Against The True Gods-Chapter 115: The Mother(III)

Caine remained silent, staring at the swirling portal with a calm gaze.

His heart thumped softly, his back straight as his mind settled into a serene state. Without hesitation, he turned toward Lady Gaia, stood, and bowed deeply. "Thank you."

For a moment, she appeared stunned by the gesture, her radiant emerald eyes widening.

Then, her lips curved into a warm smile as she helped him rise. "There’s no need for this. All my children deserve a fair attempt at life."

She extended a hand, and four orbs, encased in golden vines, materialized in the air between them. Before Caine could analyze them, they vanished, stored neatly within his sovereign ring.

"Only open them when you vanquish what lies ahead," she said sternly, her tone brooking no argument, as if his success was an inevitability rather than a possibility.

Caine nodded, his expression steady.

"Now," she continued, her gaze narrowing slightly, "while I cannot interfere too much, I can help you a little more."

Her palm hovered over his chest, and a gentle glow of radiant gold and emerald qi began to gather at her fingertips. Swiftly, she inscribed a complex rune over his chest.

"When the time is right, use this to unseal your True Will," she said softly. "But be warned—your body may shatter. Use it only as a last resort."

Caine nodded once more, his calm demeanor unwavering. He didn’t bother to question when, why, or how his Will had been sealed, nor by whom. By now, he understood he was part of a game much larger than himself. Until he grew strong enough, answers would remain elusive.

Lady Gaia cupped his face in her hands, her gaze softening. She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, a motherly gesture that caught him off guard.

Caine met her gaze, his silver eyes unblinking.

"This doesn’t feel like a goodbye. Are you dying, Mother Gaia?"

She chuckled, the sound both warm and melancholic. Her hands dropped to his shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze as her body began to dissolve into countless golden and emerald runes.

Watching her fade, Caine couldn’t help but feel something deep within him crumble, as though an unseen thread tethering him to her was being severed.

"Change the future," her voice echoed, the last remnants of her form dissipating into the air.

And then she was gone.

For a long while, Caine stood alone, the silence punctuated only by the steady thump of his heart and the quiet hum of his blood flowing through his veins.

Eventually, he turned toward the swirling portal.

’…Fate. Fate. Fate…’

The word echoed endlessly in his mind, reverberating like a bell tolling through his thoughts. He sighed softly, his expression resolute as he stepped forward. Without hesitation, he entered the portal.

A low, resonant hum filled the air, a hymn that seemed to oscillate between melancholy and triumph. It was as though the universe itself sang of an uncertain destiny—one balanced precariously between glory and despair.

A hymn for a future yet to be written.

***

Above the fractured reality, in the skies where Caine’s tribulation had been summoned, the entity meant to enforce judgment finally manifested.

The figure that emerged was otherworldly—a young woman with cascading white hair that gleamed like silver in the starlight.

Her radiant eyes glowed with icy silver depths, flecked with cold golden light. Her robes were pristine and layered, embroidered with intricate patterns of dark grey clouds.

Black rings adorned each of her fingers, their surfaces shimmering with faint, shifting runes.

Behind her, nine pairs of grey-feathered wings stretched wide, their presence imposing and majestic.

Atop her head hovered twelve overlapping halos of thorny silver vines, just beneath a towering obsidian crown fitted with six multicolored jewels.

Her beauty was unearthly, a perfection so profound it almost defied comprehension. But it was her aura that truly demanded attention.

The air around her warped and twisted as if reality itself bent beneath the weight of her existence.

Her gaze swept across the fractured reality, scanning with an intensity that froze the very air.

Suddenly, a figure appeared before her, stepping into her line of sight.

It was a man with long golden hair, deep blue eyes, and a refined, otherworldly aura. He wore flowing black priest robes, their edges faintly glowing with golden runes.

He smiled. "Hello, little lady."

The angelic woman’s frown deepened. Her gaze pierced through his robes, her eyes narrowing as they landed on the golden chains binding his bruised and battered body.

Her lips parted, her voice a blend of countless male and female tones, regal and commanding. "You… how are you still…?"

The man chuckled softly, interrupting her. He clapped his hands together, and instantly, a dome of golden light encased the two of them, isolating them from the world outside.

"It’s unfortunate," he said with a sigh. "You angels are always too curious for your own good. But then again, can I really blame you? It is your duty, after all."

Her eyes blazed with fury. "Are you responsible for the appearance of the child?" she demanded.

The man tilted his head, a blade materializing in his hand as he regarded her with a faint smile. "Does it matter?" he asked casually.

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His grip tightened around the blade, his demeanor shifting slightly. "Like I said, it’s unfortunate. Had you arrived a year later, I might have let you face him. He might even have spared you. But now…"

The angel’s frown deepened, her expression hardening at his words. "You speak as though I require mercy. Insolent."

Her form flared with power, the air trembling under the pressure of her Will. "You shall face judgment."

’…We need to accelerate things… What could that little fool have done to attract a True Angel this early?…’

What neither Caine nor most others understood was that tribulations didn’t have to follow a linear timeline.

An offense committed today might result in a tribulation years—or even lifetimes—later.

Conversely, the repercussions of present actions could ripple backward through time, rewriting the past.

’…This is trouble… If it’s something Caine has yet to do…’

The angel surged forward, her silver blade drawn as the two clashed with earth-shattering force.

BOOOOM!

Their battle ignited the fractured skies, each blow tearing through the fabric of reality itself.

But amidst the chaos, one thing became abundantly clear: Whatever had drawn the angel to Caine was no ordinary offense.

It was the herald of something far greater.