Noxanna had stopped it all for one simple reason.
Because she loved more.
More than she hated and resented Lumensis, who had betrayed the gods and tried to usurp the world—
She loved the people living in this world even more.
So Noxanna brought everything to an end with her own hand.
Franz felt something welling up in his chest at that truth.
Ordinarily, he might have held it back, but now he could not.
“Why!”
Noxanna’s gaze turned toward him.
“If this was how it would end, why did you begin at all?! Why?!”
How many had died in this affair?
It wasn’t a matter of nations.
It was a danger so grave that not only humanity but every other race had been forced to stand guard.
Many lives were lost to stop it.
And among them was Clara Cowen, Master of the Dreamer School.
“If it was going to end like this, my mother, the others...”
Franz bowed his head at last, unable to restrain his grief.
Noxanna looked down at him with pity.
“Child. That you lost someone precious pains me as well. In the end, this was my fault. Because I failed to properly govern my Apostle, this all came to pass.”
She spoke words of apology.
“I am sorry.”
It was unbelievable.
For a god—superior to mankind in every way—to speak an apology aloud.
Even if it was through an avatar, it was still Noxanna’s true will.
It was nothing like an elephant bowing to apologize to an ant. It was on another plane entirely.
Franz lifted his head at that apology.
His eyes, red from tears, stared at her in disbelief.
His lips trembled.
“Sorry? You called me! That day, decades ago—the day my father died!”
Franz remembered.
The first time he fell into the Deep Layer of the Dreamland, he had heard a call.
He remembered that day.
And he had thought and thought again.
Who was it? Who had breathed will into the fragment and called him?
He had not known at first. But now, he was sure.
The goddess before him, Noxanna.
It was she who had called him that day, when he knew nothing.
Because of you, everything of mine was ruined.
If you had not called me—
My life would never have become like this.
“Child. I know the state you were in. I know that feeling. And so all I can do is say I am sorry. Sealed as I am, that is all I can offer.”
“......”
“Yes, words alone will not ease it. Even if they were only foster parents, losing those dear to you—how deep must that grief cut?”
Her words were sincere.
And that truth crushed Franz’s heart all the more.
He knew it was meaningless to rage.
Noxanna had no malice. All she bore was a love too great to measure.
But because she was divine, that love was beyond what humans could bear.
Can a person gently stroke an ant’s head?
Can they feed them scraps of their own food?
From their view, it was kindness and love.
But to the ant?
A loving hand became the pressure of a mountain crushing down.
Divine favor, food from the gods, became a disaster that burst their bellies.
Humans were fragile enough to be broken by even the smallest trace of divine goodwill.
Better if she had not loved.
Better if she had passed over them as mere insects.
Noxanna could not have been ignorant of Franz’s heart.
“It is truly lamentable. I love my children, yet those who receive my love are ruined.”
Her gaze lingered on Ludger.
“Perhaps that is why the other gods favor you. Because you do not break so easily.”
Noxanna sighed softly.
“The call that day was not my will. To you, it was nothing more than a murmur in my sleep. A meaningless twitch of a finger as I slumbered.”
She opened her palm.
Upon her white hand, a fragment of Relic appeared.
“That...”
“This fragment [N O V E L I G H T] was steeped in my power.”
Franz recognized it too.
How could he forget the object preserved in the depths of the Dreamer School?
“Yes. That was the cause. That drew me...”
“It was simply this object’s peculiarity.”
Noxanna turned to Ludger.
“Child. You came for this, did you not? Do you know what it is?”
“Not exactly. I don’t know who made it or why. Only that if all the pieces are gathered, it will become an extremely powerful ancient artifact.”
“Relic. Yes, that is what you call them. Strictly speaking, not wrong.”
Around them, the scenery began to collapse.
Her true body was sinking into slumber again, and the summoned [Nursery Rhyme] was losing form.
“There is little time. I must explain quickly.”
“What is it really?”
“What you call a Relic—we made it.”
The word “we” left the goddess’s lips.
Franz was aghast, and Ludger exhaled.
“Judging by your reaction, you suspected as much.”
“...Yes. They could not be analyzed even with the knowledge and science of ancient humans. I thought they must carry a more mystical power.”
But to think they were born of gods’ hands—
“That is right. What you call Relics were our toys. Just like this [Nursery Rhyme].”
At her call, the vanishing bell shuddered.
A divine artifact with will.
With a single toll, it could incapacitate all existence.
And more—it possessed its own self and power.
And Relics were of the same kind.
“But most Relics weathered with time, their performance severely diminished. The ones you know now are mere fractions of their original might. But this one is different.”
She shook the fragment in her hand.
“Normally, once broken, a Relic is useless. Even made by gods, its form must remain whole. But this—though shattered—loses nothing. Gather the scattered pieces, and it will be even stronger than before.”
“Why?”
“Because it was not made by one god.”
“Not one...?”
“Yes.”
She nodded at Ludger’s thought.
“This artifact was forged by many gods together. Each piece contains its own divine power. That is why even broken, its strength remains. Reunite them, and it is whole again.”
Her expression turned sorrowful.
“I, too, was among the makers. This fragment was imbued with my power.”
“So that is why...”
Why was it here in Dreamland?
Why had Nathanael tried to cast it into the Dreamland?
Why was Franz drawn here?
Because this fragment bore Noxanna’s power.
The tragedy from Nathanael to Franz—born of the godly force within the shard.
“Then this fragment itself holds power?”
“What a strange question. You have already seen the result.”
“That...”
“I see it. The day you fell into the dried well. When you found the fragment glittering in the moonlight, the gears of fate began to turn.”
At her words, Ludger recalled his past.
That day he fell to the bottom of the empty well.
With no rescue, faced with death.
And there—he found it shining.
Was that chance?
And when he took it, and saw the vision like a small hand mirror—
Was it fate that led him here?
“Chance and inevitability. What must never happen and what must happen. All crossing paths. In the end, this was always your task. That is why I gave you the chance.”
She extended the fragment toward him.
“Take it. It is yours now.”
Ludger did not refuse.
He took the last fragment of the Relic and gazed at it, eyes complicated.
He had known it was extraordinary—but never that it was crafted by gods.
And so he was all the more certain.
This would be enough to achieve his purpose.
“To you, I am truly sorry.”
Noxanna apologized again to Franz.
He looked at her, bit his lip, and shook his head.
“...I know. I know you bear no malice. This was only a natural disaster.”
Suppose a man lost family to a natural disaster.
Could he blame the disaster?
If it were a being far greater than the storm, with a mind vast beyond human measure—
What human could demand responsibility?
And yet Noxanna apologized.
Franz could not mistake it—she truly cared.
And that hurt all the more.
His clenched fists loosened.
In a weary voice, he spoke:
“I know there is no point in cursing fate now. I came here for vengeance, but I’ve realized that’s not what I truly wanted.”
“You’ve chosen to accept.”
“Yes. I will accept it. That is what my mother would have wanted too.”
Noxanna smiled at him, proud.
“I have no mother. I am everyone’s mother, yet I have never had one of my own. So I cannot know what it means to lose her. But from the sorrow I feel from you now, I can know how deeply it cuts you.”
And still, Franz chose to accept.
“Well done.”
“That’s enough.”
“No, my words are always true. And such a worthy child deserves a reward.”
“A gift? Why?”
“Because your mother would want it. Is that answer not enough?”
“......”
Franz gave no reply.
But it was not rejection.
Noxanna reached her hand to his head.
She stroked his hair with her white hand.
“Strong child, who has overcome grief. May your path be blessed.”
Golden radiance spread from her hand, seeping into Franz.
Ludger’s eyes widened.
‘That’s...’
It was like Nirva’s dream-sand—no, even purer.
‘She’s making him her Apostle?’
It was hard to dismiss as illusion. Gold shone in Franz’s pupils.
But wasn’t Nirva her Apostle?
A god could have only one.
Yet Noxanna had not stripped Nirva’s role away.
That could only mean one thing—Nirva was dead.
‘The Dreamwalkers must have finished him.’
So Ludger thought.
* * *
“No... my Goddess. Why, why do you do this?”
Nirva beat his torn wings, flying desperately.
Feathers falling, golden blood dripping, but he had no strength to care.
The Goddess, barely awakened, had chosen sleep again.
It was incomprehensible.
‘She has not fully sunk into slumber yet. If I can just persuade her...’
But his thin hope was pierced by a sword from the sky.
“—!”
Too slow to dodge, one wing was skewered.
Then his body was hurled to the ground.
“Who?!”
Staggering up in the dust, he glared for the attacker.
And when his golden eyes fell on the black doll emerging from the cloud, they widened in shock.
“Hello, Nirva. Where are you rushing off to?”
Zero Order waved at him with a smiling face.