Strength.

The power of the infallible, the power of a god, is enough for her to accomplish any great thing, to slaughter any adversary, and even to turn the world into her own hands.

It was not false, Morgan could feel its presence, its breath, even its pulse: it was entwining with the body and soul of the original genogen, ecstatic at the retreat of her tidal tide, setting off a monstrous wave in the highest heavens.

In the blink of an eye, her gaze was enough to drown everything in front of her, merging her body with the stars, as if she were scattering brush and ink on a snow-white palette, thickening the soft and brilliant colors with each other to create a pattern that pleased her: for Morgan at this time, everything in the world was nothing more than that.

Morgan could feel her body breaking free from the constraints of gravity, her vision transcending the constraints of the world, and even the entire Dead Star and even the galaxy in which it was located were getting smaller and more fragile in her pupils......

It's been a long time since the Lord of Avalon has unleashed her energy so presumptuously, and ever since she sensed the possible outcome of her constant climb on the precipice of power, she had become a cautious miser, fearing the saddest of future in which her own existence would be swallowed up by the authority of the gods.

But that doesn't mean Morgan's power wanes: when the Genogen releases its shackles and reveals its true face, only the strongest, luckiest, and most determined psionics can spy on the tip of her iceberg in a state of extreme panic and leave a lifetime of tremors in calamity.

In the whirlpool of the Silent Star, two shadows larger than the world itself are facing each other in the air: one black and one white, one sharp and one soft, but they are equally cold and unfathomable.

Outside, the silver-white Eternal Queen obscured her face with a hood symbolizing oblivion and a mist of the unknown, her eyes obscured by a silvery black mask, her body and legs obscured by a long dress woven from scrolls: the scrolls were constantly changing with words, Gothic and alien conversations, but no one could discern what they meant.

The Lady of the Forsaken was surrounded by coldness more terrible than death, the cry of the complete annihilation of the soul, but in such a desperate situation, the body and head of the queen were all earthly projections of beauty in any culture, and her silver hair, which emitted a faint golden light, covered every imperial warship and every human soul in a short breath: not even the will of the gods could tear through this fragile mercy at once.

On the other side, in the position of the Empress of the Unknown, there was also a suffocating shadow: it was not a creature, nor was it a pure product of nature, darkness, steel, and flesh were all it was, and it was constantly curling up and spinning itself, like Jörmungandr biting its own tail, forming an eternal cycle around the great soul hidden in the Dead Star.

There was no voice, no passion, no appearance of any intelligent beings, only huge bodies covered with scales, constantly entwining and binding themselves, and those bodies that could not avoid each other were even biting and colliding with each other, leaving only broken scales and dripping blood: and under these collisions, even under each scale, the flesh itself could be seen tearing at each other, and the crazy attitude was as if the greatest enemy of the serpent in the atrium was himself.

This unbelievable self-hatred and cannibalism is like an innumerable army of heavily armed armies that fall into a constant cycle of annihilation, reorganization, fighting, and annihilation in the blink of an eye: but this cycle is different from that of the benevolent God, this cycle is meaningless, there is no passing of the old and the birth of the new, there are only thoughtless creations, cold calculations under a given procedure.

For any life-loving being or god, this may be the ultimate terrible blasphemy.

In the corrupted corner of the subspace, Morgan could hear even a long-awaited, real roar: countless great demons cowered in their flowers, dodging the monstrous fury of the dark house.

And the Lord of Avalon didn't have the heart to pay attention to all this, when Morgan slowly approached the existence of the subspace of the same size as her, as if sensing the coercion from the Spider Queen, the wave of black scales immersed in self-killing and self-devouring suddenly set off a tragic internal friction: along with countless bloody skeletons appearing on their backs, three huge snake heads also slowly appeared.

The two on the left and on the right immediately began to fight each other almost the moment they appeared, only the middle one was still staring at Morgan with his golden cold pupils.

Morgan watched him as well, and in this moment the two of them were so quiet, allowing each other's shadows to loom over those unfortunate beings around them: ships and worlds, sky and earth, steel and stone, all things became one in their rising subspace waves, tangled and intertwined until they could no longer be discerned: just like chaos itself.

[I have heard that you have rejected the crown that this power has held up for you, my poor brother, but it is clear that you are still not completely free from its effects: as long as you continue to unleash the destruction it needs, you will never be able to part ways with this power. 】

[The gods are plagues, and you and I are both diseases in the eyes of ordinary people, the only difference is that I am still a mild case, and you are already a poor man like our father, who has to prepare a grave for himself. 】

The Lord of Avalon looked at his besieged brother and gave a mocking smile mercilessly, and though her lips were hidden in the thick fog, long hair, and mask, and she didn't make a move, two thousand two hundred snowy owls emerged from her long hair and chirped in a neat voice.

“……”

Only the middle head was staring at Morgan, completely ignoring the fact that his two companions were fighting each other, as if he didn't feel the sharp pain in the same body.

He spoke.

"I never thought my plans would be smooth sailing, blood relative: I am not our great Creator, I have no power from him, so failure is an inevitable possibility."

[This is obvious: what are you going to do?] 】

Morgan let out a shrill laugh that was not the kind of laughter she was usually capable of, and with this torture, thunderous lines flashed on her fingertips, and with a single wave, boundless laughter resounded through the night, and thousands of pairs of wings tore through the sky, and flames erupted in dying prayers, rising flaming dragons, grazing the stars with their claws, and burning the world and its enemies.

Heydrich, or the serpent, just watched the thunderous blow with a cold eye, and he opened his huge mouth, which was even greater than the continental shelf, and easily swallowed this violent energy into his belly, as if it were some delicious snack, and then, as if he was not satisfied, twisted his neck, and bit a large mouthful of subspace storms beside him, and swallowed them into his stomach in one gulp: as his big mouth continued to chew, Morgan could even feel it in this galaxy, There has been a visible drop in subspace energy.

There is no doubt that Heydrich was devouring the energy of these subspaces, and even feeding on them: the process of this feeding is unknown to others, and the so-called hunting and swallowing are only superficial results.

But Morgan was sure that she would never do it, because she knew very well the consequences of doing so, for she had been tempted to do so countless times: Morgan, though he was convinced that Heydrich would not be seduced, was clearly acting in the same way.

Therefore, there was even a trace of sadness in the eyes of the Lord of Avalon when he looked at his brother.

What makes you obsessed? 】

“……”

The serpent didn't answer Morgan, he just chewed on the large mass of energy with a blank face, as if it were just a machine, obeying the basic operating rules that had been set in his mind until it was completely swallowed: making the beast nature of this huge body more and the humanity less heavy, so that Heydrich's pupils looked at Morgan with some covetousness, and looked at the golden light that filled her hair.

"It's useless to talk too much."

That was his only answer.

【……】

Morgan nodded, and then, fire and frost, storm and thunder, with the creak of the Forgotten Queen's phalanges, all turned into a frost-white wave that could swallow the world.

[You are right, it is useless to say more. 】

[Then, please ......]

——————

"Die!"

Riemannus roared.

He delivered the blow with precision, and the Bacchus spear swung with all the power of the Fenris, like a rampaging bull, smashing through the storm that stood in its way and charging at his own foe.

And in the face of this perfect blow, the wolf king's opponent naturally did not support it: Heydrich's body made of unknown metal first took a few steps backwards, and the blade of the sword swung flawlessly, and the death of the Bacchus spear in one fell swoop only caused the divine weapon to cut a clearly visible wound on his shoulder.

The wound tore the entire left arm, enough to cause pain to anyone, but Heydrich did not, he just looked at the wound that was healing at an extremely slow pace, like an ant, his pupils seemed to have fallen into the abyss of night, empty, without pity, without hope, without a trace of concern for himself: it was like the four walls of this final temple, only the walls made of metal, and the twisted and hideous faces on the walls.

Other than that, there is nothing else: no light, no warmth, no decoration, no tenderness.

It's just hell, it's just a cage.

Heydrich was the most ominous shadow in the cage.

Almost as soon as the Bacchus Spear passed by, Heydrich responded: his sudden forward gesture was so decisive and swift that it made Riemanlus seem a little clumsy and heavy: before the Wolf King could recover from the imbalance of swinging the Bacchus Spear with all his might, the blade from the betrayer was already aimed at his neck and slashed down.

The attacker didn't even care that his chest was exposed, and Riemanlus had a blade in his other hand: but even if the Wolf King had fought back in time, this ordinary divine weapon would not have been able to inflict lethal damage on a body made of shards of the Star God, as it had done in every previous duel.

Heydrich was like an incomparably precise machine, calculating what he and his enemies would lose, and holding on to the results without mercy: but even so, he had a weakness.

"Johnson!"

With the utmost courage he looked at the blade that was about to kiss his neck, he stepped back, delaying as long as he could, and roared, calling out to his brother, who did not disappoint him in the slightest.

With a battle cry from Caliban, the Lion King's blade arrived almost simultaneously with Heydrich's: two equally deadly metal weapons collided in front of the Fenris's neck, and Riemanruth could feel the pain of sparks splashing on his beard.

Speed, agility, unrivalled blades and immeasurable courage: nothing could have been done without this classic collision, and the struggle lasted only a second, with Johnson still guarding his brother and Heydrich taking a step back, his calculations preventing him from continuing this futile effort.

Having expected all this, Johnson and Riemann Ruth did not stop at all, the pace of the Lord of Caliban was even faster than the blade of Chagatai, more accurate than Killiman's marksmanship, he almost bit Heydrich's backward steps, and with a twist of his wrist, the blade emitted a fierce light, so that the betrayer could not draw more energy.

At the same time, Riemanlus rolled to the side without paying attention to the image, and came to the edge of the shadow, he stretched out his hand, and waited for a moment: the next moment, the Bacchus spear flew out of the shadows and came to Riemanrus's hand with great precision.

"Pretty."

The Wolf King praised in a low voice, and the figure of Conrad flashed in the darkness just now.

Then, the Midnight Spirit climbed all the way up the wall, ignoring the twisted countenances that wailed in his ear, like a falcon patrolling the sky, repeating circling, swooping, rolling, roaring, and then flashing the snow-white blades of his hands, and the fangs of his mouth, which were no less impressive.

The timing of Conrad's attack was just right, and the moment Johnson entangled Heydrich head-on, the midnight ghost's knife light had already slashed through the betrayer's neck, and although it didn't do any fatal damage, it was enough to stiffen him for a moment under the siege on both sides.

And in that moment Riemannus had already stood up, and he roared, aimed at his brother, and once again swung the Bacchus spear: Johnson and Conrad had already retreated to their posts, crying deeply, waiting for the next round of battle, waiting for the great beast Heydrich to be slowly hunted by them, just as primitive people killed those fur-heavy mammoths with bloodletting tactics.

The battle of the three genetic prototypes can be said to be natural, which includes not only their close connection as blood brothers, but also since the beginning of the war, they have been honed, cooperated, and practiced again and again in various simulations: after experiencing the tragedy of defeat caused by various contradictions and conflicts, the three genetic prototypes finally reached such a tacit state.

But even with this tacit understanding, the battle was still extremely difficult: not to mention that as Heydrich's home field, the hall itself was not very friendly to them, and the body made of fragments of the star god alone, although not yet perfect, was enough to withstand the damage of most weapons, and only the Bacchus spear could inflict considerable wounds on it that could not heal for a short time.

As for the unknown weapon, which is said to have miraculous effects, the Genogens are not going to use it rashly while the battle is going well: it should be a clarion call for victory, or a desperate choice.

"What do you think of him compared to that Emperor of Ran Dan?"

After another round of fighting, as the Fenris and the Calibans stood side by side in a panting, the Wolf King grinned and asked Johnson a strange question.

And the male lion didn't even bother to glance at his brother with disdain: he really couldn't understand why Riemanrus could still have the heart to carry out such a senseless act when the situation was already so critical.

You see, Conrad is more serious than you.

Even Conrad!

The lion king gritted his teeth, but still spit out the answer in his heart.

"Heydrich? He is not as good as the emperor of Ran Dan, and there is still a relatively obvious gap between them: I feel that he has not yet fully mastered his own power, or is still resisting, and this must be the main reason. ”

"I think so too."

Riemanlus nodded, he didn't say anything more, but after Conrad held his arm and retreated, he let out a wolf howl of Fenris again, and swung his Dionysian spear: this divine weapon given by the emperor himself has been accompanied by confrontations and collisions again and again, and it is full of hot hand.

"I've never used it so many times."

As he charged, the corners of Fenris's mouth curled, and he muttered to himself in a bitter voice so low that only he could hear it, and the whisper quickly disappeared from the monstrous sound of the Dionysian spear colliding with the body of the star god.

The wolf king's eyes flickered.

"I hope this blow works."

——————

[Even if I knew, it didn't work.] 】

Morgan muttered to himself.

One of her arms lifted up at random, pinching an unnoticed part of time, turning it into dust in an instant: that time contained a certain instinctive probing of her failure.

With this destruction, the Spider Empress felt that among the countless battle plans in her mind, another one slowly disappeared: another defeat hidden in the unknown, which was erased by Morgan's own hands.

Ever since the Lord of Avalon began to think about his own powers and abilities, Morgan's use of these [subspace matters] has become more and more comfortable.

The collision between Morgan and Heydrich is unimaginable in the real universe: time, space, emotion, concept, history, physics, and even the battle itself have become fragile in their countless bitter battles.

The two genetic primordials conjured up the sharp edges of the blades and scales layer by layer, injuring each other, and each weapon could not live to witness the origin of the next collision, and each collision would set off a devastating meteor shower in a random unfortunate world in the galaxy.

At the very edge of their power, countless unborn beings were born, and then fled to the depths of the subspace with a wail: for even the most reckless demons would not dare to watch this contest between the gods of chaos in the highest heavens.

Only the most powerful beings, the gold and silver medalists who rise high above the Throne of Chaos, who stand in the Forge of Souls, or who hide behind the fog of history, dare to watch this showdown with greedy or inquiring eyes.

As for the brief silence in the Chaos Temple, it was also accompanied by the collision of the original bodies, which quickly shattered like dead leaves in the wind, and wild roars and twisted screams once again came from the Chaos Temple, resounding throughout the universe.

From the throne of blood and skulls came only the simplest roar and fury: the Great Beagle did not applaud either side of the war, because he did not appreciate the will and authority of either side, but only the simplest of praise for the blood fight itself, and the release of grace for both sides at the same time.

And in the garden of decay and rebirth, the daily kind voice is now wrapped in a crazy thunderstorm: no one knows why the owner of the flower cluster has fallen into such a ridiculous rage, because those who are usually the most favored demons do not dare to speak at will at this moment, they can only let the will of their father wantonly break through the barrier of the flowers, and curse the great serpent that haunts the world in the shadows.

In the other corner of the subspace, favoritism and assistance came so obviously: the smile of the Lord of Bliss came to Morgan's side like a maggot almost at the moment when he exerted his power, leaving a faint purple shadow in the gestures of the Lord of Avalon, and every word Morgan spat out, every incantation he whispered, would also reach the silver tower, and be expounded by the Prince of Darkness himself, and this divine exposition itself was a great power, a great help.

As for the last god, the Lord of Change, it seems to have no interest in intervening in the battle: the Feather King simply hovered quietly in his position as the Transmuter, watching the battle with ease: perhaps, this unusual silence itself was part of the change, perhaps?

But the gambles and attitudes of the Chaos Powers could not really affect the life-and-death struggle between the two primordials: Heydrich and Morgan maintained a barely evenly matched situation in an extremely strange situation, after all, the former had already rejected his share of power, and was only wielding the sword of Damocles that strengthened him with great unskill, but also devoured him all the time.

Morgan's strength, though barely superior to that of her brother, was hesitant to use more power as well, leaving the Lord of Avalon without the means to kill each other: they could only fight, like knights in classical times, charging each other round after round, destroying each other.

The battle between the Holy Maiden and the Serpent has been wandering in the subspace for a long time: the battle is undoubtedly long, and the two genetic agents have gone through a thousand rounds of confrontation in a scarred state, but this fight is also short-lived, because the concept of time does not exist in the subspace at all.

When Morgan and Heydrich's souls were exhausted, the retreat on the ground was only roughly complete, but both primordials seemed to be exhausted.

The condition of the snake in the atrium that coiled the world looked miserable, the other two heads had been completely shattered, and the largest one, who had also lost one of his eyes, was swung by an unreasonable psionic wave from Morgan, and as for the large and small flesh marks on his body, they were everywhere like early spring raindrops falling on a dry wall, and it looked like a puddle of bloody mud and scales: and even at this time. The serpent's self-devouring and cannibalism continued unabated, as if it had become an important part of its existence, even more important than the overwhelmed Heydrich himself.

On the other side, the Lord of Avalon was not much better than the serpent: the arm that had not yet grasped the weapon was now unconscious, lifeless, and many of its hair had lost the protection of the golden light, revealing its original pale color, and the snow owls around him had already fallen one after another in a sharp hissing, and most of the veil had been torn off, revealing a mask that was almost shattered.

"We can't help each other."

After a long period of silence and respite, it was Heydrich who spoke first.

"You should have noticed this, you have noticed this a long time ago: our Creator has separated you and me from our brothers in the same way, we are his two special expectations for the future, stop hiding it, you should face up to your own responsibilities."

[I have never felt that I have any responsibility, or rather responsibility, but it is only a noble reason that we have come up with to satisfy our own selfish desires: Aren't you so, Heydrich.] 】

[When did your professed loyalty ever get the approval of the emperor? 】

"That's because...... You don't know the emperor at all. ”

[Do you know very well?] 】

Morgan grinned, the exhaustion on his face not hiding her contemptuous laughter.

Have you ever thought that your path must be right? If your path is wrong, if your path will have a fatal effect on the Emperor's plans, how can you explain your so-called loyalty? 】

"Of course I thought about it."

Surprisingly, the serpent, or Heydrich, did not have the slightest anger at this inquiry, he just stared at Morgan coldly, and there was something in his golden pupils that made the Spider Empress shudder.

"I have often reasoned about such a possibility, after all, I am not an emperor after all, I am very likely to make mistakes, I am very likely to embark on the wrong path: but because of this, I have to go on more firmly."

【……】

"After all, if the path I am taking is wrong, then this universe is not destined to give me a chance to mend my ways, and the only thing I can do is to keep moving forward, to explore those unknown areas forward, to wade through all the minefields as much as possible, until the moment of my death, I must maintain my footsteps forward."

"I know very well that I will be mad, that I will commit what you call atrocities, and that I will trample on the bottom line of your deed: but at least this way, my mistakes will become the future of defeat in the eyes of the emperor, and all my actions will be meaningful!"

"If I can't tell the emperor what success is, then at the very least, I'll let him know which path is doomed to failure: we are his tools, and tools have to make some sense, don't they?"

【……】

Morgan had nothing to say.

She couldn't even tell whether the burning fire in her heart was disgust, ridiculous, or simply sighing. And she doesn't care about such trivial things anymore: this war has dragged on long enough, and she must have plenty of energy to deliver the final blow.

Plenty of energy......

【……】

The Spider Queen blinked, and a thought that had been swirling in her mind for a long time, a thought that had been included in her memo long before the war began, burst out from the depths of her pupils once more.

Almost at the same time, the mask that had been covering Morgan's soul finally appeared a dangerous crack, and through this crack, outsiders could see Morgan's pupils, and they could see that in the pupils, there was already a trace of gold, but extremely firm.

When Morgan blinked, the gold moved with it, like a bright star.

Under the bristle of the stars, Morgan's remaining arm took out the flaming torch, the gift of the Emperor, and the golden apple: the flame on it was still the same, only this time it was not so disgusting.

【……】

The Lord of Avalon could feel his throat swallowing, and the endless energy of the golden apple was calling for the exhausted genoplasm.

【……】

Just a small piece.

Shouldn't be a big problem, right?

——————

"No, it's a big problem!"

The Palm Seal reached out and pressed the chessboard that was floating in front of him: in his other hand, he held the long-damaged piece [Eleven]: although it was no longer worth repairing, the Lord of Humanity decided to keep it.

+ Calm down, my friend, you look like some of my sons right now, and keep a fuss about anything the size of a sesame seed. +

“？”

Machado's brow furrowed enough to build a play in something.

"In a place where the energy of subspace is so active, your most unstable daughter is suffering from the erosion and pollution of those chaotic powers: you call these things the size of sesame seeds?"

+ To some extent, yes. +

The Emperor blinked, and there was an unsavory stubbornness in his face.

"You're ...... Not worried about her? ”

+ She was better than I could have imagined, and better than I had imagined: in fact, only three of the five primordials I had sent there could have put me at ease: Morgan was one of them. +

"A few months ago, you weren't so confident in her assessment?"

+ Everything is going to change, Machado, you'd better be able to adapt to it, just as I've accepted to get Eleven out of my original plan and let Two in seamlessly, their positions don't really conflict, and if all goes well, Second will no longer worry me after this war. +

"Why?"

"Just the golden apple you gave?"

"Didn't you say it yourself, she'll only take one bite at most."

+ The first time is always the hardest, and after the first time, everything will fall into place. +

“……”

Machado's gaze was off the chessboard, he hadn't looked at the emperor so seriously in a long time, and was desperate for an answer.

"So, you have to tell me, what the hell is that golden apple of yours?"

+ It's a seed. +

"Seeds?"

+ Yes, seeds, seeds that I prepared specifically for Morgan. +

+ You don't need to know more, my friend, this seed involves one of my top-secret plans, and the fewer people who know about it, the better: in fact, only I know about it now. +

“…… Does Morgan know? ”

+……+

——————

[It doesn't matter. 】

As the golden flames began to overflow with her breath, burning her skin, her hair, her pupils, and even her soul, Morgan whispered from the bottom of her heart: even herself was shocked by the whisper.

But she could no longer think about it: she had fallen into a state of mystery, and when that little piece of golden apple melted in her mouth, neither Heydrich, who had been visibly uneasy in front of Morgan, nor anything else in this war, seemed to have become irrelevant in an instant.

Once again, the Emperor's Heir's perspective seemed to soar, and her soul seemed to have shifted further, her gaze no longer focused on this world, this galaxy, but on a more distant concept: in humanity, in the Empire, in the Galaxy.

Morgan was like a bewildered child, looking at these concepts that she was so familiar with, she was not sure what had happened to her, but some instinctive call hissed in her throat: the voice still smelled of flames.

In the flames, the Emperor's heir followed her instincts.

There is no generosity of awareness, no more words, no complex self-doubt and mental journey, it is the simplest, purest, breath-like instinct that guides Morgan to her next action.

Waved.

Whisper.

The pupils are burning.

Why enlightenment, only ashes remain.

In an instant, countless figures rushed out of the heavenly flames, their fiery images were ever-changing, but they never separated from the appearance of humans and warriors, the embers of slaughter stained their armor black, but the symbol of the Imperial Aquila still hung high in the air.

Heydrich, who had already turned into a giant serpent, just watched all this quietly, his brain, which had sunk into nothingness, seemed to feel some kind of instinctive sting: this sting came from the remnants of memories and the traces of the past, so that this genetic prototype, which had always been known for its computing power and excellent logic, actually realized after a long silence that he was at a loss.

He knew this legion, he knew this legion slowly coming out of the flames, he recognized this army that had turned into skeletons, but it still hadn't fallen.

……

That's his legion.

It was the Eleventh Legion.

+ Heydrich. +

Someone was calling him: the voice made him tremble.

The betrayer slowly raised his head and looked at the opponent with whom he had been fighting for a long time: Morgan stood there, her countenance unchanged, but already sacred and inviolable, for when the Lord of Avalon opened his eyes, the golden flames in her pupils were already brighter than the brightest stars.

+ Heydrich. +

Morgan spoke.

……

It was the voice of the emperor.

The power of the voice made Heydrich tremble involuntarily, and his brain, which had long been familiar with pain, felt a real pain, as if a myriad of storms were tearing at the remaining stars, isolating the angry gods.

……

Heydrich took a deep breath.

He knew that judgment had come.

(End of chapter)