Chapter 89 Container Collapse
The candlelight seemed to freeze at that moment.
His clear, jade-green pupils seemed to awaken like an ancient forest pierced by the morning light, as the light and shadow shifted.
Like the finest jade, it shimmers with a moist luster under candlelight, yet it is more vibrant than any other gemstone.
The slight upward curve at the corners of her eyes carries a divine elegance, and the depths of her pupils seem to hold an ancient starry sky.
His eyes held neither sorrow nor joy.
Fingertips, hair, even feet.
The power that filled the body of the Son of God began to flow outward continuously, materializing into a visible, radiant galaxy.
Upon touching the ground, the shimmering starry sky dispelled the foul odor that permeated the cathedral at a speed visible to the naked eye.
It flows and spreads inch by inch, even purifying the air.
Whether it was the attacking soldiers or the servants who were intimidated by the light and tried to escape, everyone's face was filled with terror.
Like ordinary humans encountering a flood or a ferocious beast, they frantically jostled to escape. But the rapidly flowing galaxy quickly swallowed them up.
And so, after a chorus of silent screams, those who had been thoroughly corrupted and assimilated were utterly annihilated, while the less severely affected soldiers felt only emptiness in their bodies, as if their souls had been redeemed.
They collapsed to the ground, their eyes filled with relief at surviving the ordeal, but also with bewilderment at how they had been unharmed. Then, to their horror, they discovered countless black wisps emanating from their revered king!
The black mist twisted and howled like a living thing, a stark contrast to the tranquil starry river flowing around Reinhardt. The king's face, which was originally aged but still human, rapidly withered and deformed under the erosion of the black mist, revealing dark red flesh beneath. His eyes were completely swallowed by the murky darkness, and he let out roars that were not human.
"No!!!"
The king roared, his voice filled with pain and resentment, but even more so with an instinctive fear of that pure light.
The black aura surrounding him attempted to condense into a barrier to resist the approach of the starry river, but in the face of that pure and clean divine power, all filth melted away as quickly as ice and snow meeting the sun.
Reinhardt remained standing still, his emerald eyes calmly observing everything.
He felt no hatred, no pity, and no exhilarating pleasure after retaliating; he was simply a calm observer, or rather, an executor of a predetermined fate.
The dazzling starry sky finally spread to the king's feet.
The moment the light, imbued with purifying power, touched his body, the black energy hissed and evaporated violently, like oil thrown into a raging fire.
The king let out an extremely shrill scream, his body convulsing violently as the black mist dissipated and the light purified him. His tall frame hunched over, and he finally collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
The remaining black energy was completely washed away by the Milky Way and vanished without a trace.
A profound silence returned to the cathedral, even more serene than before. The candlelight, no longer flickering, burned steadily, casting a warm glow throughout the space. The biting chill had vanished, replaced by an indescribable peace and purity.
The soldiers, sprawled on the ground, stared blankly at the scene before them, at the son of the god standing in the center of the starry sky, his long hair flowing like a waterfall, his eyes like emeralds, and his body shrouded in a hazy halo.
The fear in their eyes gradually transformed into an almost reverent awe.
Leave here.
The voice came from the depths of their hearts, like a warm breeze in the dead of winter, gently soothing all fear. The soldiers who had not yet been corrupted quickly regained their senses, and driven by a mix of bewilderment and the instinct for survival, they rose and ran away.
Only the Son of God remained, standing alone in the brightly lit cathedral.
His height and figure remained unchanged, but his long hair had unknowingly extended to the ground, blending into the flowing light beneath his feet.
Reinhardt remained indifferent.
He could tell that his emotions seemed to have calmed down a bit; the lingering fear that had been there before he came in had vanished.
I feel neither sadness nor joy; I feel like a programmed robot, with a clear goal and no distractions.
His body was like a container, filled with abundant divine power, which flowed through him to the earth and to every corner of the city.
His soul is crumbling.
It hurt a little. Reinhardt took a moment to think about it and felt that this disintegrating pain was even more unbearable than the torture he had suffered during his six years in prison.
Perhaps it's because he's been pampered too much that he's started to care about pain.
He raised his finger and twirled it in front of him, stripping away and discarding the pain, then lifted his emerald green eyes to look around.
The world finally has color; it is fluid and vibrant.
He could see the vibrant gold and red of the candle flame's core, the painted ceiling, the skeletal remains of the purified corpses, and the voluminous clothing and jewels piled high on the ground, forming a small mountain. These colors and details were so vivid, as if washed clean, completely different from the gloomy, oppressive world he remembered.
His body and his soul seemed to be assimilating into this power in an irreversible way.
Reinhardt had considered leaving the cathedral, but the loss of power seemed to have also taken away his right to control his body.
He could only stand helplessly in this empty and enormous prison, letting his body disintegrate.
He saw the Milky Way spread out of the church, swallowing up all the tainted filth under the astonished gaze of the Second Prince, who was crouching in the corner. He saw it pass through the city walls and cover the entire land.
In the distance, the last stubborn traces of filth on the edge of the city were wiped away by divine power.
The weight of the entire city seemed to lighten instantly, and an invisible, warm glow rose from all directions, faintly merging into the galaxy surrounding him. It was the prayer of the saved, the gratitude of the land itself, and the resonance formed by pure energy.
They surged in, passed through him, but did not linger. He clearly felt that the boundaries of himself as an "individual" were blurring. He was Reinhardt, and he was also this purified city, the flowing galaxy, and the steadily burning candlelight.
Another, even more intense tremor, originating from the depths of the soul, followed. This time, it was no longer pain, but a... sense of detachment.
It was as if something vital was being drawn away, to be absorbed into that boundless light.
He could barely stand; Reinhardt's body was like a flickering candle. He felt a gentle breeze sweep over his long hair, dispelling his temporary daze.
A trace of longing flowed from the emerald green eyes that could hold a vast starry sky.
He suddenly remembered the first storm that the Storm Leader had whispered in his ear long ago.
It had nothing to do with gods or missions; it was a symbol of Reinhard's freedom.
No one in the city called his name; his existence was merely a symbol. But in the eyes of Buster and his band of bandits, he was Reinhardt.
...If only I could see Buster one more time, and with these eyes, redraw the colors of his past.
This thought, like a pebble thrown into a still lake, only created a barely perceptible ripple before sinking into the deepest recesses of those emerald eyes, leaving no trace.
He lowered his hand and waited quietly.
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