What emerged through the hole above Ludger’s head was a dried-up mechanical arm.
Rust-eaten, nothing left but the frame, it looked as though the slightest touch would make it crumble into dust.
From afar, it could have been mistaken for a dead branch, or even the arm of a wicked hag—something that added a deeper layer of eeriness.
It looked a bit unsettling, yes, but not to the point of true fear—just that much.
Yet the reaction of the Machine God went far beyond that.
It was terrified.
Fear. Distrust. Dread. Shock.
Because the Machine God, more than anyone else, was acutely sensitive to the power of Terralon, it understood immediately.
That thing was poison.
A poison that could kill even him—the one clad in steel armor, wielding omnipotent arms, and ruling over all metal.
“Judging from that reaction, it seems you really sent me something worthwhile.”
At first Ludger had felt disappointment at the sight of that frail arm, but seeing how the Machine God reacted, he realized that was not the case.
This was the power Terralon had granted him, tearing open the second seal formation just to send it.
If the power the goddess had shown when the first seal was undone was any indication, then the strength within this dried-up arm from the second release was simply beyond estimation.
[───]
Terralon’s thought echoed into Ludger’s mind.
Upon hearing it, Ludger finally understood the identity of that arm.
“You... sent your own arm?”
The withered arm belonged to Terralon himself.
It was just one arm—only that.
According to the ancient legends, Terralon could gather earth and rock with a mere wave of his hand and raise mountains.
That meant his body was vast beyond comprehension—yet this arm did not look vast at all.
It was proof that Terralon’s divine authority had waned.
But that did not mean the power within his authority had diminished.
One only had to look at how the Machine God froze in pure terror to see that.
“Since you’ve sent it, I’ll make good use of it.”
[────]
Terralon’s thought replied.
At the god’s genuine praise toward this small human who still spoke to him without honorifics, Ludger only gave a dry chuckle.
“I don’t worship things like gods.”
Terralon conveyed that that was precisely why he liked him.
He had created the world simply so that everyone could live and play equally—monsters, gods, demi-humans, and humans alike.
A world where all coexisted.
“GRAAAAAHHH!”
In that moment, the Machine God regained its senses.
It shook off its fear and instead released a furious, burning desire to win.
To think that while it was trying to overthrow its creator and become a new god, it had been frightened by a single, thin mechanical arm—rage boiled inside it.
That arm of a forgotten, fallen god was worthless before its own authority.
With that belief, the Machine God withdrew two of its mechanical arms, clenched them into fists, and fired them like rockets.
Breaking the sound barrier, the two fists shot forward with a piercing boom.
They were no longer ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) fists but pillars of steel—almost siege weapons.
It wasn’t using mere physical strength, either.
A double halo rose above the Machine God’s head, glowing brightly and imbuing the fists with divine radiance.
The golden energy around the fists was meant to stop Ludger from dodging or blocking with shadow.
For even Ater Nocturnus would scatter before divine power.
An attack that could not be defended against or avoided.
The plan worked perfectly.
That was why Ludger didn’t bother to dodge or defend.
“You want a contest of power? Fine. I’ll oblige you—strength against strength.”
The arm of Terralon hovering above Ludger’s head moved slightly.
Thin, rusted—it moved sluggishly, almost creakily.
Could it really endure against those gigantic mechanical fists rushing in? Wouldn’t it be blown apart just by the pressure?
But the scene that followed banished all doubt.
Tap.
Terralon’s arm extended its index finger toward the oncoming fists.
A gesture so light, so simple.
Yet the result was anything but.
The mechanical fists froze midair.
Just as the Machine God had stopped Ludger’s steel blades earlier, its own arms now halted in defiance of physical law.
Then they trembled violently—and disintegrated into a handful of ash.
The other fist followed the same fate.
Terralon’s arm merely extended its hand, didn’t even touch it, and the fist quivered, then crumbled into powder.
“......!”
The Machine God’s golden eyes widened in horror.
Just one point of a finger, one flick of a hand—and the two mechanical arms it had poured its full will into were utterly neutralized.
If they had merely broken, he could have rebuilt them with the authority of steel. But even that was impossible now.
Had they simply turned into iron dust, he might have reconstituted them somehow.
But they couldn’t be restored—the very elements had changed.
“So that’s what it does.”
Ludger, too, was astonished.
He watched as the mechanical arms that touched Terralon’s arm instantly crumbled into black dust.
He couldn’t help but grasp what principle was at work.
“To turn steel into carbon...? It can rewrite atomic numbers themselves?”
Iron and carbon—two entirely different elements on the periodic table.
Iron was a transition metal, carbon a polyatomic non-metal.
The ultimate dream of alchemy—to transmute one element into another—was unfolding before his eyes.
Which meant that with that arm, one could turn mere dirt and stone into gold.
Now he understood how Terralon had once gathered earth to create mountains, plains, and veins of ore.
Whatever he touched, he could change into any substance he desired.
That was the authority of a god who had once stood proudly among the creators of the world.
Even now, stripped of divinity and power, that might still remained.
But even in such a favorable situation, Ludger’s expression did not ease.
Because he, standing closest, could tell.
“I see. Its durability won’t last long.”
Terralon’s arm possessed overwhelming power—so much that one might question whether it should even exist in this world.
But its durability was the problem.
As its thin, corroded shape suggested, just those two uses of divine power had loosened screws and made the joints creak.
It had been fragile before, but now it was far worse—its remaining uses were clearly limited.
Partly because Terralon himself had lost much of his power, but also because only so much strength could pass through the second opened seal.
“Right. Things were never going to go smoothly. Still, not bad. Better to have a weapon like this than nothing at all.”
The Machine God’s reaction said it all.
Its earlier fighting spirit had vanished—replaced once more by raw fear.
Fear.
The most primitive emotion all living things share.
Realizing that, the Machine God ground its teeth.
A being seeking to become a god—terrified of that frail arm’s authority?
A god is perfect.
And perfection allows for no flaw, no deficiency.
Fear itself was the very embodiment of imperfection.
A god does not fear.
A god is flawless.
A god is omnipotent.
“Who said that?”
Ludger’s calm question struck the Machine God’s mind like a hammer.
“Who said a god is perfect?”
Though it had spoken no words, Ludger spoke as though he could see directly into its thoughts.
“That petty, narrow idea will devour you.”
“Shut... UP!!”
The Machine God roared, gathering its storm of steel.
The black tide of metallic fragments that had been swirling through the air surged toward Ludger.
Even from afar, his skin prickled and his eardrums screamed from the resonant hum.
It was like watching billions of insects swarm toward him.
Ludger considered using Terralon’s arm—then stopped.
He didn’t know how much durability it had left; he couldn’t waste it recklessly.
The problem is, I have to break through that on my own.
Because of the divine energy mixed within the shards, his usual Ater Nocturnus was useless.
But Ludger still had true magic left.
Radiant light flared behind him, taking the shape of countless palms that thrust forward.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
The golden hands collided with the black swarm, exploding into spherical bursts of flame.
Ludger shot forward through the gaps like a bullet.
Lightning flashed around him, his body sparking with raw energy as the storm raged.
A thunderous roar swept the space, followed by a colossal energy blast born from Sefirot’s Tree.
Crack!
But there were too many shards.
Even though he’d cleared most of them with wide-range spells, some still slipped through, grazing his body.
His coat tore, a line opened on his cheek, and blood dripped down.
He immediately healed the wound with recovery magic, and the cuts on his clothing mended themselves through auto-repair enchantments.
But still, the steel fragments kept coming.
Too many. At this rate...
Ludger hesitated.
Should he use Terralon’s arm again? But what if its durability ran out?
If he saved it and died, wouldn’t that be even more foolish?
He made his decision—he would use it.
Terralon’s arm slowly turned forward, fingers stretching wide.
FWOOOM!
A strange vibration spread from its palm, and all the black steel fragments around him turned into glass, scattering like rain.
A glittering downpour of translucent shards.
But the Machine God still commanded an endless sea of metal.
Far more than what Terralon’s arm had just transmuted.
Worse, the flow of metal from Isla Machia continued to feed the storm, increasing its volume.
Damn it.
Even after using the arm again, it hadn’t achieved a decisive result.
The Machine God was deliberately trying to exhaust the arm’s durability with endless waves of metal.
And indeed, after that last use, the arm drooped limply, its strength clearly fading.
Ludger sensed it immediately.
He had only one use left.
He would have to end it here.
The steel cloud surrounding him closed in with a sinister screech.
His wounds were healed, but as a single drop of blood rolled down from his cheek and fell from his jaw—
───!!!
Something crimson tore through the sky, splitting clouds apart as it descended toward Isla Machia at terrifying speed.
No one had time to react.
By the time the red light mass reached the island, a thunderous explosion had already erupted before their eyes.
KWA-RRRRRRNG!
It was red lightning.
So red it was almost the color of blood—lightning that struck the metallic clouds surrounding Ludger.
As soon as it hit one piece of metal, the current leapt to the next, and the next, and the next.
Every metal it touched oxidized into powder.
Like a tree branching infinitely, the crimson lightning spread across the world, resonating with metal and disintegrating it into raw energy.
“Blood Lightning...?”
Ludger’s eyes widened as he recognized the spell.
“...Master?”
His master, Grander, should have been in Rederbelk right now.
And Rederbelk—
Was at least two thousand kilometers away from here.