Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End Chapter 666.2: The Despairing Truth (2)
Previously on Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End...
The Collector had driven him into a corner several times in the past; Roel had never forgotten him at any point in time, which was why he was unsurprised by the other party’s appearance.
Lukas, however, was utterly shocked, as this was a situation that should have never happened.
“How can this be? How are you still alive?” Lukas stared at the Collector, unable to comprehend how the latter had survived.
The Collector was in a soul form, intangible but most definitely alive.
The Collector replied with a smile, “Death is not a concept that applies to me. The brand on your body has been my hiding spot since a thousand years ago, though this is the first time I am exploiting it.”
“What?” Perhaps due to the loosening of the brand, there was a hint of shock in Lukas’ voice.
“Do you finally get it now? Your so-called Fallen Brand was just a means for me to control you. Humans love to believe what they wish for to be true, such as the possibility of attaining power without having to pay a price for it,” the Collector snorted in derision.
He shook his head in mockery before continuing on, “You sought to attain the Savior’s power without turning into a Fallen. You Ackermanns always think you are the exception, but you never ponder why that’s the case. Shall I answer your question? There’s no reason for you to become a Fallen, for you are His host.”
“His host? Wait, you are…” Lukas widened his eyes in disbelief.
“Have you finally guessed it?” the Collector sneered.
Roel immediately figured out where this conversation was going, and he unleashed all of his powers without holding anything back.
The Ackermanns’ so-called Fallen Brand was said to be a special spell developed a thousand years ago, but Roel thought it was weird from the moment he first heard about it, as it violated the core principle of this world.
The Savior’s power was a tremendous power second only to Sia’s own, but the Ackermanns were able to control it at the cost of their emotions. This was a small price to pay, compared to how other Fallens risked losing their sanity and descending into depravity.
Roel’s hunch proved to be right, for the Fallen Brand was a sham from the start. It was a bait exploiting the Ackermanns’ desire for power.
Through nesting inside generations of Ackermanns, the Collector was able to remotely control the human world. On top of that, the Fallen Brand opened the possibility for the Ackermanns to absorb the immense power in Sia’s Scepter, and such was the ambition that drove Lukas here.
This scheme was likely hatched during the Spirit Cataclysm of the Capital a thousand years ago.
And now, the golden question: who could have orchestrated such an elaborate scheme over the span of a thousand years, from the Spirit Cataclysm of the Capital down to the Fallen Brand?
The answer was simple: it was the Collector—or rather, his other identity, the Savior.
As this realization sank in, the Collector’s blurred appearance slowly sharpened in clarity, revealing a familiar face Roel had once seen in the Witness State.
Roel let loose a furious roar. Grandar gathered his strength in his almighty fist and charged at the Savior, but before his fist could land, a powerful burst of mana suddenly gushed out from the Abyss.
A deep and resonant howl tinged with madness echoed from beneath. It was the first roar in many years from the monster sealed beneath. At this very moment, time stopped.
Grandar’s fist froze in place, and Roel found himself unable to move either.
A deluge of black mana gushed out and rushed at Roel. Its sheer force shattered the frozen time, and Roel and Grandar quickly employed defensive maneuvers, barely managing to stabilize themselves amidst the rapid tide.
Meanwhile, Lukas’ body was enveloped by a black fog.
The Savior looked at Roel and asked with a smile, “It looks like you have finally grasped the situation, but you should have one last doubt. Aren’t you curious to know what my true goal is?”
“…” Roel didn’t answer, but he did have such a question in mind.
He figured that the Collector was probably one of the Savior’s powerless soul fragments, and he understood that Lukas—or rather, the Ackermanns—had been thoroughly deceived by Him. However, he struggled to make sense of the Savior’s rationale for doing this.
The doomsday prophecy had already stated that it was only a matter of time before the Savior broke free of His seal and returned to the world. All the Savior had to do was to bide His time and wait. There was no need for Him to go to the trouble of deceiving the Ackermanns.
Perplexed, Roel looked at the Savior with a frown.
The Savior revealed a gleeful smile as He went on, “I’ll enlighten you. My goal is liberation. As long as My soul exists, I’ll never be free from the Black Moon’s influence. I needed a scapegoat, someone with an identical soul to mine. After a thousand years of hard work and generations of refinement, I have finally achieved it.”
“!” Roel widened his eyes in shock.
For the span of a millennium, the Savior had meticulously deceived the Ackermann lineage. His objective was to gradually reshape their souls through the insidious Fallen Brand, thereby fabricating a soul sufficiently similar to serve as His surrogate. "After enduring a thousand years of anticipation, My endeavors have finally yielded their reward. Through this individual, I shall attain ultimate liberation," the Savior proclaimed. Without a shadow of a doubt, He plunged His arm into Lukas’ very being, extracting the latter’s uninspired soul. Under the influence of His incantation, Lukas’ soul, writhing in resistance, began to emit a strange aura, compelling the judgment of the Black Moon to converge upon him. "NO!" Lukas screamed in profound agony, his soul being irrevocably stained black by encroaching madness and depravity. Concurrently, the Savior’s eyes blazed with an unparalleled vibrancy. With a mere flick of His wrist, He cast Lukas’ soul into the Abyss, and a torrential downpour of dark mana followed its descent. Lukas’ soul met its catastrophic end. The annihilation of Lukas’ soul served as a deception to the Black Moon, leading it to believe its task was complete, and its potent influence receded from the mortal realm. The tormenting madness and depravity that had plagued the Savior for innumerable years finally began to dissipate. "Just as I foreseen! I shall be taking this vessel, then." The Savior erupted in maniacal laughter as He propelled Himself into Lukas’ body, the form seamlessly reshaping to mirror His own. Simultaneously, Sia’s Scepter pulsed with a radiant luminescence within His grasp. Roel’s complexion turned ashen. The Savior’s mana underwent a profound transformation, shifting from darkness to light, from chilling cold to comforting warmth. He was reclaiming His most paramount authority – the sun. After eons of dormancy, the very entity embodying the sun had finally returned to the Sia Continent. With this resurgence, the bindings that had imprisoned the Savior swiftly lost all efficacy. Blazing heat immediately enveloped the vicinity, and an energy of unimaginable magnitude surged forth from the Abyss. The engaged combatants, both humans and Fallens, froze in their tracks. They could discern an alarming concentration of mana agitating the imperial capital, which ultimately culminated in an explosion of catastrophic proportions. The Capital Cathedral, breached from beneath, imploded and disintegrated into mere dust. Tremendous waves of heat billowed in the wake of its annihilation, a spectacle visible even from a distance of a thousand miles. The assembled united army on the plains watched in utter astonishment. The soldiers positioned near the Capital Cathedral rapidly retreated, shielded under the protection of Lilian and the other Origin Level 1 transcendents. This event, however devastating, was not the final act. The generated heat waves did not wane with the passage of time; instead, they intensified, coalescing into a colossal pillar of light that pierced the nocturnal sky. A figure, wielding Sia’s Scepter, ascended heavenward along with this luminous column. As He manifested, a solitary speck of light appeared on the eastern horizon. The sun was dawning, despite the prevailing darkness of night. Every soldier witnessing this on the plains was rendered speechless, and figures like Antonio and his companions succumbed to despair. On the Sia Continent, the sole entities capable of manipulating the cycles of day and night were the Savior and the Mother Goddess. The spectacle unfolding before them could only signify one thing: the Savior had fully awakened from His millennia-long slumber. Amidst the explosive aftermath, a colossal World Serpent burst forth from the earth, expelling a man with white hair. Roel tilted his head back, his gaze fixed solemnly upon the figure bathed in the gentle warmth of the nascent daylight. The Savior had awakened, not as a destructive, savage entity, but as the supreme deity who had once governed all races eons ago. Even the ultimate hope of humankind, Sia’s Scepter, now rested in His possession. This land was destined to become His new Land of Genesis, and no one possessed the power to prevent it. Roel’s fists clenched tightly as he felt the overwhelming mana at the Savior’s fingertips, a power utterly beyond his current capacity to oppose. "What a magnificent panorama… however, I must first attend to more pressing matters," the Savior murmured, casting a serene glance at Roel. "The Kingmaker Clan, the lingering vestiges of a bygone era. You have proven to be an persistent impediment for far too long. It concludes now. Your time has arrived for oblivion." "Is that so? I beg to differ," a composed voice interjected unexpectedly. A surge of mana coalesced before Roel, and the vision of the white-haired Witch Queen materialized into tangible reality.