With a casual wave of his hand, Remiel directed divine energy into the Hollow Queen’s body. It immediately began to writhe in agony as the holy power incarnated its brain like body, purifying and erasing its existence layer by layer.
A soundless shriek echoed briefly before fading into nothingness, until not even a trace remained and only fine ashes drifted in the air.
At the same time, Remiel summoned a small mirror from seemingly nowhere. And as the last remnants of the Hollow Queen’s true form were revealed, its tiny body was forcibly drawn into the mirror and sealed within it. Once it was done, he calmly stored the mirror away, as if capturing such a rare abomination was nothing more than routine.
Without sparing another glance, he raised his hand again.
The Demon Generals did not even have time to react. Their bodies burst apart instantly under overwhelming divine force, leaving them no chance to resist or escape. Death came so cleanly and absolutely that even their souls were erased before they could struggle.
The small hidden world of the demons remained untouched, concealed by its special nature. Even Remiel could not sense it through the layers of distorted space. Otherwise, not a single demon would have been allowed to survive.
After dealing with the demons, Remiel turned toward the kneeling Saints. His gaze swept across them, taking in their fear, exhaustion, and grief. But there was also, hope and reverence in their hearts.
Inwardly, he felt satisfied. The devotion reflected in their eyes told him everything he needed to know. The seed of faith had already taken root in their hearts.
Outwardly, however, he maintained the image of a benevolent angel. His expression softened, his posture relaxed, and he appeared like a holy being burdened by responsibility rather than power.
[Demons are the natural enemies of all living beings. They exist only to purge and destroy, trampling over emotions, lives, and entire worlds without the slightest care.]
Remiel spoke slowly, his voice carrying weight and authority as he looked directly into the eyes of the kneeling Saints. He could sense how intently they were listening, how each word was sinking deep into their hearts.
[We Heavenly beings wander the Cosmos in search of such evils, eradicating them wherever they appear so peace may continue across countless universes. While I was traversing the void, I sensed something deeply wrong here and came as fast as I could.]
He paused briefly, as if weighed down by regret.
[But even so, I was late. If I had arrived earlier, your brothers and sisters might still be alive. For that, I am truly sorry.]
His gaze shifted to Saint Alfhard, and sorrow filled his eyes, mixed with what appeared to be genuine remorse. The sight struck deeply into the hearts of everyone present. Tears that had been suppressed finally flowed freely as the Saints felt touched by his words.
Mark, Alice, and Lydia did not realize that the catastrophe Whisperer had warned them about was none other than these Angels themselves. If they had known, they would never have reacted like this. But unlike Ash, they were not opposing fate directly.
And Whisperer could not tell them the truth. Any attempt to do so would be seen as an act of altering fate itself, and the backlash would be unbearable for him and the one who listened. There are some things that are not supposed to be changed.
"No, no, esteemed Lord. Please do not feel sorrow because of us. If you had not arrived, we would have certainly died."
"Yes, you do not need to blame yourself."
The Saints bowed deeply, moved by the Angel who had saved them and regretted not arriving sooner. Their reverence only grew stronger.
If only they knew that inwardly, Remiel was scoffing at them.
As if I would care if this entire world was destroyed. I only came because I sensed the presence of Abyssal Gates. Otherwise, a single sweep of my divine sense would have been enough to confirm whether the anomaly was here or not.
Still, he maintained his image.
Although Remiel possessed power vast enough to pry every secret from their souls, he chose not to. Forcing information would stain him with unnecessary karmic backlash.
As a being of the Heavenly Realm, he understood the hidden mechanics of reality far better than mortals ever could. The lighter one’s Karmic Sin, the smoother their existence would flow, and the higher they could climb.
There existed records within the Cosmos that documented the weight of Karmic Sin carried by every being. Those whose sins grew too heavy were not judged by any single race but by every being in the Cosmos itself. Universes had wills. Galaxies had wills. The Cosmos was no different, only incomparably vaster and more indifferent.
Karma was not something to be treated lightly.
If one killed beings burdened with immense karmic sin, the Cosmos itself would grant blessings in return, bestowing Karmic Virtue upon the executor. And the benefits of the blessing were too great to miss it.
Karma was one of the core laws that maintained balance, stability, and a fragile peace across the entire Cosmos.
That was precisely why Remiel chose restraint.
[I am still sorry for what has happened to your world.]
His voice was calm and sincere, carrying a warmth that eased trembling hearts and softened grief.
[To make up for my shortcomings, I ask that you tell me about this world and every significant event that has occurred. Anything will suffice. Ruins, demons, inheritances, anomalies, or anything that feels out of place.]
His gaze passed over each kneeling Saint, steady and attentive, giving them the illusion that their pain truly mattered.
[If there is a hidden threat, I will personally purge it. I will also help eliminate the demons and the dungeons that have begun spreading across your lands. Your world barrier is already fractured. Leaving these cracks unattended will only invite far greater calamities. I will try my best to mend it too.]
Hearing his words, the emotions in everyone’s eyes deepened even further. Gratitude, relief, and reverence welled up together, overwhelming their exhaustion.
To them, this was salvation descending from the heavens themselves.
The elves spoke without hesitation. Their history held no secrets worth concealing.
But the humans hesitated.
Mark, Alice, and Lydia exchanged brief glances, their expressions conflicted. They could not bring themselves to speak about Ash. Whisperer had warned them repeatedly, telling them that he was the hope of the planet, that his existence was tied to something far greater than they could comprehend.
They hesitated only for a breath.
Just as they were about to speak, the space around them shuddered.
A sharp, unnatural cracking sound tore through the air, as if reality itself had been struck.
The atmosphere shifted instantly, pressure bearing down on every soul present as their attention snapped toward the source of the disturbance.
Even Remiel looked at the sky, his eyes turning grave as he sensed the presence of someone who could threaten him.
Instantly, he entered battle mode and his senses stretched far and wide, spreading across the surroundings like invisible waves. His divine perception expanded instinctively while his mind churned with countless thoughts at high speed, analyzing every possibility.
Then, the space above them cracked open, the sound sharp and unsettling. A small, slender hand emerged from the tear, gripping the fractured space itself and pulling it apart with force, as though reality was nothing more than fragile cloth.
Soon, the whole body of the invader was revealed.
It was a child who looked around seven or eight years old. He had a small build, snow white skin, and crimson red eyes that carried an unnatural calm. Strangely, even at such a young age, he had long hair neatly tied behind him, not a single strand out of place.
But the expression he bore was unlike any child.
There was no innocence in his gaze. His eyes were detached, cold, and unwavering as they locked directly onto Remiel, ignoring everyone else present as if they did not exist.
Seeing the child, Remiel’s eyes constricted and a sense of unnatural danger washed over him. His instincts screamed in warning, and his body reacted before his mind could fully process the situation. He had no idea who the child before him was, but Remiel was no fool.
He knew very well that in the vast universe, many powerful figures regained their youth after achieving enlightenment in their cultivation. There was no fixed rank or requirement for such a transformation. Some regained their youth at lower ranks, some only at higher ranks, while others never experienced it at all.
Appearances meant nothing in the higher realms.
And the fact that this child had torn open space with his bare hands was more than enough to place him in the category of beings Remiel could not afford to underestimate.
***
A/N: Who do you think this child is? Any guesses?