The Glorious Evolution Chapter 436: The Real Jasmine.

While the Daywalkers were enveloped in a sense of peace by Jojo’s singing voice, Rain uttered a scoff under his breath, murmuring, "How utterly foolish..."

He remained completely unaffected by her desperate attempt, aware that the 'Nightmare of the Id' technique would relentlessly consume every last drop of its victims' fear, leaving them as mere empty shells.

As anticipated, each resounding impact inflicted new fissures upon Jojo’s spiritual barrier, sending reverberations of fracturing light deep into the souls of all present… a chilling premonition of their fate should it finally shatter.

Despite the Daywalkers’ fervent efforts to place their complete trust in Jojo, their primal instincts could not be contained. As the grim contemplation of mortality took root in their hearts, the singular, natural response surged forth: Fear.

Rain instantly sensed its burgeoning presence, a faint, languid smile gracing his lips. He remained silent, keenly aware of the chameleon’s curse feasting upon their dread, even amidst the bulwark of Jojo’s ultimate defense!

Fear, being an emotion, once emitted, became an open banquet; easily consumed, yet profoundly difficult to fully excise from the very soul.

Though the extracted fragments were minuscule, they served to subtly augment the technique’s potency, initiating a relentless cycle.

In the meantime, Jojo stood as a solitary sentinel against the encroaching tempest. The strain of her resistance began to manifest as a steady trickle of dark blood from her nostrils, and the luminescence of her skin started to fade, adopting a pale, unhealthy hue.

"Jojo!! That’s enough, please!" Arthur implored, his voice thick with palpable concern.

He observed Jojo’s features gradually appear to wither, as though she were aging years in mere moments. To willingly expend one’s own life force was an arduous choice, and to do so for the sake of others was an even more difficult burden to bear.

Evangeline and the other Daywalkers wrestled with conflicting emotions as they witnessed Jojo’s rapid decline; they recognized the immense sacrifice of the universe’s most precious resource – life itself. Yet, they found themselves unable to voice a plea for her to stop… they understood that the instant Jojo’s celestial light extinguished, their own hope would vanish with it.

Jojo was acutely aware of this grim reality. Thus, even as Arthur’s desperate cries, mingled with those of her companions, echoed in her ears, Jojo refused to yield.

‘Houda… your path is forged by your convictions. Even when confronting death, never waver, never hesitate, and never abandon your Dharma.’

Her contracted nightcrawler whispered within her mind, its voice as cool and clear as a flowing spring. As a nightcrawler, its inherent nature dictated a self-serving ideology, prioritizing its own evolution and survival above all else.

This was a fundamental characteristic among most of its kind. Yet, it displayed no apparent concern that Jojo was jeopardizing both their lives for the sake of others… an action most alien to its nature.

In truth, Zar’Vhulek was a devout adherent to destiny and fate. For beings holding such profound conviction, regardless of unfolding events, he would always greet them with a smile, accepting his predetermined path, whatever form it might take.

This was his Dharma, the bedrock of his formidable strength.

For Jojo, her unwavering resolve was always, and would always be, to go the ultimate length for those she held dear, irrespective of any personal cost.

Consequently, despite her quivering frame and the insidious spiritual decay gnawing at her vitality, her spirit stood as a final, unyielding bulwark, ensuring the encroaching horror never reached those gathered around her.

"Can you believe it?! She's still holding on… just barely, but she is!"

Gamemaster Envy exclaimed with fervent passion, his voice nearly lost amidst the thunderous roar of the spectators. Their hearts swelled with admiration at the sight of the colossal monk… marred by countless cracks, yet unyielding and unbroken.

It was a magnificent display of an indomitable spirit; a testament to the profound meaning of standing tall and embracing demise for the sake of one’s most deeply held beliefs and principles!

Fortunately for Jojo, she was not alone in this arduous struggle… she never truly was.

‘I offer my apologies… it took me some time to complete.’

As Jojo felt her consciousness flickering between the realms of light and shadow, a familiar voice resonated within her mind. It was a voice that exuded an aura of profound somberness, yet, paradoxically, it drew a strained, bloodied smile from Jojo’s lips, streaked by the incessant flow from her nose.

‘Better late than never… he is now entirely yours… I am… going to close… my eyes… for a brief moment…’

Before Jojo could complete her telepathic transmission, her eyelids fell shut, and simultaneously, the radiant aura emanating from her mutations vanished. In an instant, the colossal monk dissolved into a cascade of shimmering particles as the Prayer Beads lost their vital spiritual tether to Jojo.

They too disintegrated into motes of white light, finally exposing everyone to the mercy of the crimson, shrieking torrent.

Yet, just as the spectral forms of the first apparitions reached out, the entire overwhelming flood abruptly halted, suspended a mere few meters from its intended prey.

Rain, Gamemaster Envy, the Daywalkers, the assembled viewers, and even Bishop Na’thir… all wore expressions of profound disbelief.

"What in the..."

"Did… did he just spare us?"

"Impossible… look at his face, he’s as stunned as we are."

Tyrese, Mira, and Evangeline conversed amongst themselves, their defenses heightened to the maximum, though the futility was understood. All that anyone could manage was to gaze at the suspended, terrifying torrent, now resembling a static masterpiece.

Speaking of masterpieces... Jasmine emerged from the protection of her Erasure Barrier with her usual composed air. However, what captivated everyone's focus was an immense paper scroll that obediently trailed her, defying the wind's push.

Upon witnessing the painting's intricate detail, Arthur, Shia, and Nurah exchanged smiles of relief before quickly disregarding everything else to attend to Jojo's precarious state.

It was as if they had foreseen it... the battle had concluded.

'She truly belongs to their ranks...'

Gamemaster Envy mused internally, his impulse strong to disseminate his findings and further electrify the audience, but alas, his ability was limited to observing, just like everyone else.

"This... did you orchestrate this?"

Rain inquired, his voice steely, yet tinged with apprehension regarding Jasmine's enigmatic powers. For beings of his caliber, the unknown presented the ultimate terror.

Unbeknownst to the observing crowd, he had exerted his utmost effort to reclaim dominion over his ultimate technique, yet... it remained stubbornly unresponsive! He even attempted its complete removal, but still... nothing transpired. It was as if his profound skill had deviated from the constraints of his aspect, now subject to Jasmine's influence!

In a manner of speaking... his conjecture was accurate.

Adorning the surface of the parchment was an immaculate, ink-blemished rendition of the ongoing conflict. Impeccable detail was present: the binding rope, the fearful Daywalkers, Rain himself, and even the enormous crimson hex. Most critically, positioned beside the spectral depiction of the beam, a singular word was inscribed: Halt

A solitary utterance, yet its influence was monumental, compelling the fabric of reality to bend and ensure that whatever was depicted or penned must be observed... functioning as an unbreakable decree!

By encapsulating the "concept" of the assault upon her scroll, she had imperatively reshaped existence, freezing the actual offensive mid-action!!

Once more, Jasmine remained uncommunicative, indifferent to the cacophony of voices, queries, and emotions. She existed within her own isolated dimension, where Jojo's dire condition, Levi's persistent yet fruitless rescue attempts, and the palpable despair mirrored in her comrades' eyes were the sole realities. Her worldview, though stark in its black-and-white perspective, served to distill the complexities of humanity and existence, optimizing her decision-making process.

There existed three distinct categories: Friend, Stranger, and Enemy.

Friends were to be protected, strangers disregarded... enemies eliminated.

It was a mechanical, uncomplicated methodology, however, it was precisely what Jasmine required to channel pure malevolence as she directed her finger towards Rain.

Subsequently, she flicked her brush across the scroll, releasing a spray of white ink that completely obliterated Rain's likeness from the artwork.

Before any reaction could manifest, the overwhelming mandate of the Erasure Aspect asserted itself upon the material plane.

Rain lacked even the fraction of a second to cry out or ponder the implications of her action. An immediate, visceral wave of instinctual terror washed over him, yet it possessed no discernible origin, no root cause. It was primal and unadulterated... an emotion he hadn't experienced in an age, as no adversary he had encountered possessed the might to instill such mortal fear.

Until this very moment.

Without warning, a colossal, spiraling vortex of luminescence materialized around him from an unknown source. It was akin to a divine intervention, meticulously scrubbing an imperfection from the very scroll of existence!

His spiritual consciousness, which had been menacing the Daywalkers, was the initial casualty. Swiftly thereafter, his very soul, residing within his partner's protected subconscious, followed suit!

'How... this, this is logically impossible...'

Utterly bewildered, Rain's mind fractured as his gaze fell upon Jasmine amidst the swirling vortex. As outlandish as it seemed, he might have mustered a modicum of understanding had Jasmine been capable of dispatching his disembodied spiritual consciousness.

However, to pursue his sheltered soul through his spiritual manifestation via a mere flick of ink? His cognitive faculties simply failed to grasp such reality-defying potency.

As for the spectators, including Bishop Na'thir, Bishop Va'ren, and the assembly of formidable figures? A profound silence descended upon the heavens, mirroring the chilling, absolute stillness of the erasure procedure.

In one instant, he stood as a high-tier threat dominating the battlefield... a terrifying power that led everyone to believe an entire faction was on the brink of annihilation by a solitary entity. The very next moment, they witnessed his unmaking... broadcast live to billions.

Even Evangeline, Tyrese, and the remaining Daywalkers found themselves observing Jasmine as if encountering her for the very first time... the true, unvarnished her.

Only a solitary individual among the viewers exhibited a divergent response... a reaction saturated with profound concern.

'Jasmine... I trust you comprehend the gravity of your actions,' Hicham whispered to himself, his expression burdened by a father's unspoken apprehension. 'From this juncture forward, my protection can no longer extend to you. The road ahead is exclusively yours to traverse... and from this point on, only you can ensure your own safety.'