The Fallen Moon (Part Two)

“Respect for elders, yes, but what about care for the young?!”

Hezekiah bristled, his beard practically flaring with indignation.

“What?”

Mera stared at him, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

“You’re over four hundred years old, and you still want to act young? Have you no shame!”

“You…”

Hezekiah nearly choked on his own indignation.

‘Who’s acting young?’ he thought, incensed. ‘Isn’t *she* the one who loves to feign youth the most in this entire world?’

‘Who has no shame?!’

Hezekiah was seething, yet utterly helpless.

The ancient loli before him was merely a projection; he couldn’t possibly fight her for real.

And at this very moment…

Hezekiah took a deep breath, abandoning his futile argument with Mera. His gaze swept across the scene once more, searching for an opportunity.

Yet, just as he prepared to move on a new fragment of the divine body, his expression shifted abruptly.

Disregarding any careful selection, he snatched the nearest body fragment into his possession and stepped through the golden portal, vanishing swiftly from the spot.

****

The raven fled into the distance, and the white pigeon scattered in a panic.

The mangy old rat, having gained nothing, cursed under its breath before scurrying away with incredible speed, showing not a shred of reluctance.

Even Mera was decisively swift, reacting before anyone else. After tossing the fragment into the distorted space, she promptly dispersed her projection.

In the void, only the Withering King remained, steadily devouring the authority of the moon, piece by piece.

But then, with a sudden jolt, the colossal, grotesque pupil trembled violently. It abruptly lifted, filled with fury, and glared into the depths of the void.

That ethereal realm, even more distant and lofty than the Withering King’s position, suddenly deepened, as if endless ink had been spilled across a canvas.

Against the profound, dark backdrop, starlight twinkled, yet that starlight carried an inexplicable strangeness.

A will no less formidable than the Withering King’s itself drifted amidst the myriad stars, like a shadow obscuring the void. Then… it abruptly descended!

Evil God – Lord of the Stars!

As if sensing a threat, the Withering King’s boundless crimson flames surged upwards, confronting that terrifying will, like a beast baring its fangs at an unwelcome intruder in its territory.

But in the next instant, the Withering King seemed to perceive something else, and its countless withered hands turned in another direction.

In the void, flowers began to bloom.

One after another, swaying crimson blossoms unfurled in the emptiness, paving a magnificent river of flowers.

Then came grass.

Then trees.

Then a scarlet wilderness.

Distorted fruits and infinitely proliferating sustenance manifested there, showcasing a chilling, monumental vitality.

And upon that river of flowers, a woman in a black dress, her face obscured, slowly approached, her bare feet treading softly.

She seemed to be looking down, gazing with maternal affection at the swaddling cloth in her arms, a swaddling cloth as deep as an abyss.

Evil God – Mother of Abundance!

Yet, it was not over.

A colossal golden tree had taken root there, its arrival unnoticed.

The tree was so immense that its true extent was impossible to fathom.

An incredibly sacred aura emanated from it, as if a pure divine spirit had been born. Its swaying branches and leaves seemed capable of purifying all defilement.

However, if one’s gaze pierced through that pristine golden light to glimpse the tree’s true form, they would see countless white bones hanging, innumerable corpses rotting, and an endless chorus of wailing souls.

Evil God – Corrupted Sacred Tree!

****

It turned out that those hoping to snatch a share weren’t merely the human ants whom the Evil Gods disdained to even glance at. Now, three unexpected Evil Gods had descended upon this place.

No, not just three.

The Withering King’s gaze fell further afield, where pristine white feathers seemed to drift and sacred hymns resonated. A grotesque, shapeless mass of flesh, daring not to approach too closely, was observing from the periphery.

Shame of the Evil Gods – Corrupted God of Love!

That damn thing had actually come too!

Enraged beyond measure, the Withering King’s crimson flames surged, and its countless withered hands, imbued with the phantom image of scorched earth, suddenly… recoiled.

No longer could it afford to savor the moment. The Withering King directly tore apart the remaining body of the Silent Moon, its withered hands closing to clutch the supremely brilliant core of authority within its palm.

It was then that the Withering King finally sensed something amiss.

The core of authority it had painstakingly, meticulously acquired after immense effort to finally kill the Silent Moon… was actually incomplete?

An incomplete authority meant it couldn’t achieve the desired effect.

‘Damn it, who! Who did this!’

The Withering King’s gaze swept across its surroundings… it certainly couldn’t have been *them*.

However, at this moment, the Withering King had no time to pursue the question. Under the oppressive will of three… no, four Evil Gods, it had absolutely no chance of fighting them head-on.

Clutching the brilliant core of authority, the Withering King’s countless withered hands suddenly retracted, like a closing flower bud, rapidly disappearing into the depths of the void before the other wills and authorities could descend and seal the area.

The several Evil Gods did not choose to pursue the Withering King.

Their authorities were incompatible with that of the Silent Moon, rendering any snatching futile.

Therefore, compared to the core of authority, which was like a tasteless rib to them, what was more appealing was…

This divine body!

Even if some trifling ants had managed to take a few things earlier, for the Silent Moon’s immense divine body, those were merely scraps.

Thus, the wills of the several Evil Gods slowly approached, and then, as if by unspoken agreement, they each carved up different portions.

A silent feast of gluttony among Evil Gods thus unfolded.

****

The golden portal opened, and Hezekiah returned to the Holy Temple of the Church of Life.

However, he appeared somewhat disheveled now; his pristine white divine robe was tattered, and the beard on his chest was singed black.

But thankfully…

“It wasn’t a wasted effort.”

Hezekiah glanced at his sleeve, his usually indifferent eyes now tinged with a hint of joy.

A fragment of an Evil God’s divine body, and one that could be freely studied, was an unprecedented harvest in the thousand-year history of the Church of Life.

Yet, the thought of the even greater spoils he could have claimed, only to be thwarted by a certain individual… Hezekiah’s eyelid twitched involuntarily.

“However… the moon is truly gone for good.”

Hezekiah pondered for a moment, then raised a hand and gently waved it. His divine robe instantly restored itself to its clean and sacred state.

“Someone.”

“Present, Your Majesty. What are your orders?” Outside the grand hall, a bishop was already waiting.

“Have the Mechanist Sanctum create a new moon and hang it in the sky. I wouldn’t want those bards to discover the moon missing at night and come to my church to cause a ruckus.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, and one more thing.”

As if remembering something, Hezekiah suddenly asked, “I heard that Grand Archmage Meradomir has taken on a new disciple?”

“Uh…”

The bishop hesitated. “There are rumors to that effect, but they circulate among only a very small number of people. The veracity is unknown.”

“Fewer people spreading it means it’s true.”

Hezekiah’s lips curved into a slight smile as he said faintly, “Send me that fellow’s information. I’m curious to see what kind of exceptional talent could possibly earn the favor of *that* Meradomir.”

****

Atop the Great Bell Tower of St. Mary’s Academy.

Mera, uncharacteristically, had left her flower garden and was now here, admiring the moon.

Although it was now daytime, and there could no longer be a moon in the sky, Teacher Mera still extended her small hand, gently caressing the air before her, as if truly stroking the bright orb.

“The moonlight is tragically beautiful…”

She murmured, her voice like a softly sung elegy, “It’s a pity I’ll never see it again.”

“But speaking of which…”

Having concluded her lament for the moon, Mera lowered her gaze, looking towards the distant, lingering Dark Moon Mist. She sighed with profound emotion, “Those two fought like dogs for that thing, only for it to ultimately benefit that little girl who merely slept through it all?”

“No, the one who truly benefited was that boy, wasn’t it?”

“Heh, this certainly makes things interesting.”