Chapter 142: The Moment of Our Farewell Is Soon to Arrive
Listening to Noah’s calm words, Rast couldn’t help but feel a surge of spirit.
Something big… was finally coming?
From the very beginning, Rast had known that Noah and the Gravekeepers were plotting a major event aimed at the Shattered Coast and the Shoreguards.
But all along, Noah had cloaked the true plan in riddles, hiding it in the fog so Rast couldn’t see the full picture.
Yet now, as time pressed toward the endgame, Noah’s ambition had at last been revealed, fully displayed.
Still outwardly, Rast showed a trace of confusion at the right moment.
“A Holy Rite?”
“To use the entire Paradise and Queen Helen as the sacrifice, to become the new Death God?”
He repeated the term.
“Your Grace Noah, I don’t quite understand what you mean.”
Perhaps because the time to launch the plan had arrived, and because Rast was needed as a key component…
This time, Noah did not hold anything back and spoke directly to explain.
“That’s right, a Holy Rite.”
“The legendary realm truly is the limit that a human body can reach.”
“But that does not mean that above legend, there is not a higher realm to reach.”
A faint light flickered in Noah’s eyes: “The higher tiers of the Sequence, in that ancient era when gods walked the earth, were also called ‘The Path to Godhood.’”
“It was a highway straight to the divine throne. If stepping onto the seventh tier qualifies as legend… then the steps above belong to the realm of mythic beings, the true divine domain.”
“The deities and anti‑deities sung of in this world are the personifications of those who touched the divine domain. Of course, even among those who reach the divine domain there are distinctions in rank—this is the difference between false gods and true gods.”
“However—”
He paused for a moment.
For some reason, when mentioning these worshipped deities…
Noah’s eyes showed not a shred of reverence, but rather a hint of disdain.
“Just as I told you before, the remnants of those so‑called deities do indeed possess power far stronger than ordinary legends. But their limitations are also immense.”
“They are extremely ancient beings, born in the dawn of creation, before humanity had risen… when demonic wolves, giants, ancient dragons, and elves still walked the earth in the Age of Gods.”
“Because they are so ancient, they indeed possess powerful authority and status… but that ancientness tied to the age of mythology also became their shackles and curse.”
“When humanity rose and the mysterious waned, and the age of mythology ended completely—those ancient gods originating from mysterious and mythical races weakened with the decline of the Age of Gods, even falling from their divine thrones, losing their eternal status and lives.”
“To maintain their power and avoid falling from the divine throne, those ancient gods unwilling to accept de‑elevation chose to hide above the ‘Threshold of Seraphim.’”
“By restricting themselves and self‑sealing, using the lingering mystery above the Threshold of Seraphim and the isolation from the mortal world… they could barely maintain their status, preventing their power from rapidly dissipating and falling.”
“But in the end, it was merely a temporary prolonging of life.”
Noah’s words carried a hint of mockery: “This is the age of humanity, and those ancient gods whose original races were not human are merely remnants of a bygone era.”
“Rebels who defy the era’s laws and the world’s order.”
“And all rebels meet the same fate—whether the old ancient gods or the Shoreguards who rebel against destiny… they will inevitably be crushed mercilessly by the order of the world.”
“To this day, most of those old ancient gods struggling on the Threshold of Seraphim have already perished. Many have fallen into deep slumber, unable to be awakened, on the verge of complete oblivion.”
“Even the small number still able to maintain their divine status have partly fallen into madness.”
“Like those cults filled with blood rituals, city‑slaughters, and pollution—fallen, corrupted, deranged… where is even a shred of true godly dignity?”
This old man sure spoke with arrogance.
Saying such blatantly sacrilegious things—was he not afraid of being killed by those cultists?
Listening to Noah’s explanation, Rast’s mind involuntarily jolted.
Originally, he had thought that the secretive organization behind the historical curtain, the Gravekeepers, might have as its true instigator some high‑ranking deity.
After all, in terms of outcome.
The Gravekeepers, aiming to destroy the Shoreguards and bring the Sixth Era to an end, seemed to be in league with the cultists currently causing chaos across the continent—their factions appeared aligned.
But now it seemed—
Noah of the Gravekeepers truly despised those cultists, the Iron Cross, the Beast Tide… not only despised them, but even looked down on the evil gods on the Threshold of Seraphim who were the source of their chaos.
The reason they stood on the same side was simply because their stances aligned now: to bring the Sixth Era to an end.
In the eyes of the Gravekeepers, whether cults, the Iron Cross, or forbidden creatures… were merely tools to accomplish their goal, unworthy of being compared to them.
From start to finish, the Gravekeepers had never sworn allegiance to any evil or righteous god.
Or rather, they swore allegiance—to the “order of the world.”
To maintain this world’s operation, ending an era with apocalyptic calamity and then rebooting it, allowing civilizations to rise and fall in cycles—the cosmic order.
To defy the cosmic order is to face the ultimate judgment… and to avoid the cosmic backlash, the Gravekeepers regarded maintaining the cosmic order as their highest mission.
Neither ancient gods nor humans—once they dared to touch fate, the Gravekeepers would bring down their blades.
…
Such thoughts flashed through Rast’s soul and disappeared instantly, never affecting the persona he outwardly presented.
On the surface, he merely listened to Noah’s words, showing shock at the right times.
After all, anyone hearing these secrets about the Age of Gods and ancient deities would be profoundly stunned.
And at this moment Noah lowered his gaze, calmly observing Rast’s expression.
After a moment, he nodded slightly.
“Of course, not all ancient gods were willing to hide like bones in a tomb above the Threshold of Seraphim waiting to die.”
“There were also some far‑sighted ancient gods who, sensing early on the disappearance of mystery and decline of the Age of Gods… the irreversible trend of history.”
“When humanity had just risen and the Age of Gods had not yet completely fallen… while they still retained full status, they decisively chose to dismantle their original divine thrones and join the tide of the human era.”
Noah gazed at the undulating, dusky yellow ocean in the distance. “The former Death God fell several eras ago, and no one truly knows the cause of that ancient god’s death.”
“However, if the death had been at the hands of another god or a mythic being, there would have been a divine war whose aftershocks couldn’t be concealed… but at that time, the Gravekeepers didn’t detect any signs of mythic collision.”
“Therefore, we speculate… the former Death God didn’t die in a divine war, but rather chose extinction of His own will.”
“He abandoned His original form, which was of a mythic race forsaken by the order of the world, and instead cast Himself into the embrace of humanity.”
“On the remains of His body, all the former kings of the Underworld Nation have been of the ‘human’ race—this is undeniable proof.”
Noah’s voice grew somewhat ethereal. “Those divine descendants, flowing with the blood of the Death God… if not for being the legacy of that former Death God, how could they possibly not belong to His original mythic species, but instead be born as humans?”
“And Helen—was the vessel prepared by that ‘Death God’ for His own resurrection.”
“The previous kings of the underworld and divine descendants were flawed products, either unable to bear the full authority of the Death God or not purely human, still carrying remnants of their mythic traits.”
“But Helen is different.”
“She is the crystallization of a miracle, a perfect vessel birthed only after countless eras of long gestation and waiting, born from the slimmest of chances.”
“Her blood flows with both the divine and the human—she is a pure human without a single impurity, yet she can fully contain the power and authority of the Death God without the slightest burden.”
“In time—once the moment is ripe, the consciousness of that former Death God should awaken within this perfect vessel.”
“Letting that Death God, in a purely human form, revive in this era without suffering any suppression or rejection from the world’s order, becoming a new deity without any restraints.”
He looked down at Rast before him. “And your task is to seize this portion of power from that resurrected Death God.”
“Gods originate from faith and all have their divine kingdoms… and at this moment, the Underworld—or Paradise—can be regarded as the Death God's divine kingdom, and those dead within are His believers.”
“Although compared to the divine kingdom of a true god in full power, Paradise’s scale is insignificant, it is still enough to be called the embryo of a divine kingdom.”
“The reason I had you ascend the throne of Paradise’s King earlier was to let you solidify the faith of these dead in advance.”
“When the Holy Rite begins… using Paradise and the countless dead as the sacrifice, you will be able to temporarily open your own divine kingdom.”
“Combined with your preliminary fusion with the Death-God Holy Grail, and Helen as the perfect vessel sacrifice, you can completely seize the power left on that corpse.”
“At that point, all of the former Death God’s efforts and arrangements made across countless eras for revival will become your bridal gown.”
“Replacing Him, you will become the new Death God.”
…
Noah’s words echoed slowly, calmly, yet with a voice that could sway hearts.
Listening to Noah’s account, a burning gleam flashed in Rast’s eyes.
It was the fire of ambition, nourished by greedy desire.
Though that trace of greed and ambition quickly vanished from Rast’s eyes, Noah saw it all clearly.
He glanced at Rast, saying nothing to expose him, and simply resumed calmly.
“That’s all I needed to say.”
“Do you have any questions?”
Just as he finished speaking, he saw the black-haired boy before him shake his head urgently.
But then, as if suddenly recalling something, Rast quickly spoke up.
“Your Grace Noah… for this Holy Rite, we must summon all citizens of Paradise to the Royal City, and use them as the sacrifice, so that I may open the divine kingdom and steal the Death God's power.”
“As such, the scale of the Holy Rite will undoubtedly cause a great disturbance—it can’t be entirely concealed.”
The youth lowered his head, cautiously hiding the heat in his eyes. “I’m worried the Shoreguards, and that Sisel, might learn of the Holy Rite.”
“When that happens…”
Rast didn’t finish his sentence.
But looking at the boy whose hands trembled slightly, who though cautious still exposed some ambition, Noah already understood the unspoken message.
A man filled with greed and ambition, yet lacking the courage and resolve to match.
He had chosen betrayal, yet lacked even the courage to face it head-on, now seeking Noah’s help out of fear of his enemies hunting him down.
What an ugly and cowardly soul…
Noah reached that judgment of Rast in his heart, though none of it showed on his face.
“You need not worry about the Shoreguards.”
He spoke calmly.
“I’ve already communicated with the forbidden creatures of the sea.”
“When the Holy Rite begins, it will also mark the fall of the Shattered Coast.”
Noah’s voice echoed like a whisper. “That is judgment from the order of the world, a sentence for those rebels called ‘Shoreguards’—”
“Their fated death.”
“By then, neither the Shoreguard organization nor Sisel will have the spare attention to look toward Paradise.”
…
With a shimmer of green, illusory light, Rast’s vision spun violently.
The scene before him shifted from Noah’s Bounty Domain in the Nether Abyss back to the unchanging sight of the Royal City.
Rast stood beside the iron throne, gazing at the distant landscape of the city.
And in his eyes, the ambition and greed he had cautiously concealed earlier faded in silence, returning to pure emptiness.
This conversation with Noah had yielded much.
Not only had he learned the full scope of the Holy Rite… but from Noah’s few revealing words, Rast also vaguely sensed the true purpose hidden beneath his disguise.
Beyond that, there were two other gains.
First, Noah had used the term “Nightblade.”
But in the Sixth Era, the manifested abilities of one’s inner world were referred to as “Supernatural Powers.”
Which meant—
Even as early as the Sixth Era, before the Nightworld had emerged… Noah, or rather the Gravekeepers behind him, may already have had contact with the Nightworld and even grasped some of its secrets.
Delving deeper… the very birth of the Nightworld might have been related to the original Gravekeepers.
Second, in that Bounty Domain, he had vaguely caught a glimpse of Noah’s inner world… the true origin of the Gravekeepers and their founding purpose.
It was an ignorant human, who created the organization to record the experiences of lost civilizations and gather enough power to overturn the cosmic order.
They were supposed to be the watchers of civilization, bearing the mission passed down through generations…
That was how it was supposed to be.
But today—
The Gravekeepers had become enforcers of the world’s order, even raising the blade against humanity to preserve that order.
“So, no matter how radiant the ideal, how dazzling the original aspiration…”
“After the long erosion of time, it will eventually rot and decay—”
“Until it rots so completely… that the original form can no longer be seen…”
Rast’s words scattered into the evening breeze, heard by no one.
Moments later, he returned from his trance.
With a slight thought, Rast summoned a servant who had been waiting in the palace.
“Notify all of Paradise.”
“Ten days from now, a national sacred ceremony will be held.”
“At the sacred ceremony, I shall bestow eternal blessings and undying life upon all who come.”
“As you command, Your Majesty.”
The servant respectfully replied and withdrew.
Only Rast remained, sitting upon the cold iron throne, gazing southeastward.
That was the direction of the Watchtower.
“Little Grey… it seems—”
“The moment of our farewell is soon to arrive.”