Chapter 1317: Aid

A thunderous roar shattered the silence, erupting suddenly from the distant earth like a meteor crashing down. It barreled through the mountains with unstoppable force.

Then, a vast, overwhelming presence rose between the wasteland and the Starry Sanctuary, nearly shattering the heavy, polluted clouds high above. The foul winds pouring in from the wasteland slammed into an invisible barrier near the northern cliffs of the sanctuary, abruptly halting before violently rolling back dozens of kilometers.

Only then did Belsethia and Ilian catch sight of a towering, sacred figure emerging from the swirling clouds and mist. Charging in from the west side of the Starry Sanctuary, it was enveloped in shifting, illusory mists of light. Massive as a fortress, its outline resembled a colossal white stag. With the force of a thunderstorm, it surged forward, crushing crooked towers and crumbling walls into dust along its path. The spreading taint and chaos evaporated instantly beneath its radiant glow. The twisted monsters spawned nearby were drawn to this overwhelming energy, howling in disarray as they charged the great stag—only to be shattered into fragments beneath its hooves.

Many creatures didn’t even get close; from a distance, they were vaporized by the brilliant light emanating from the stag, dissolving into nothing but smoke and dust.

Belsethia stood dumbfounded. She recognized the identity of the giant stag but never imagined she would see it here. A flood of thoughts and doubts surged through her mind, but before she could speak, the massive figure thundered past her, never once looking back, racing toward the far end of the sanctuary.

The wind howled around her, and powerful energies exploded overhead—but as soon as they touched Belsethia and Ilian, they softened like a gentle breeze, causing no harm.

The rumbling gradually faded. Ilian stared in shock for a long moment before finally turning to Belsethia, her face pale and trembling with terror. “Your Majesty… that just now—”

Before she could finish, the thunderous roar returned. The sacred white stag burst through the thick fog once more, trampling everything in its path as it charged back, destroying the mutated monsters born anew from the lingering chaotic magic. Finally, it came to a halt before Belsethia and Ilian.

Belsethia couldn’t understand what this holy being was doing, but she was deeply shaken. She half-suspected the stag had accidentally rushed past earlier—but she had no proof and dared not voice the thought.

Meanwhile, behind the sacred stag, the chaotic magical environment had been struck twice by massive forces, shattering its energy cycle completely. The foul miasma that had long hung over the upper levels of the Starry Sanctuary began to dissipate, and the surrounding visibility improved noticeably. Only then did Belsethia realize that much of the smoke and dust that had clung to her had been unnatural shadowy mists. With their disappearance, her breathing suddenly felt much lighter.

It seemed that, at least for now, no more mutated monsters would spawn from the nearby air.

An eerie silence settled. Belsethia couldn’t remember how many years it had been since she’d felt so lost and confused. After a few seconds, she forced herself to calm down, maintaining a composed expression as she lifted her gaze to meet the majestic white stag’s eyes. The creature slowly lowered its head, its crystal-melted eyes glowing with gentle light as it quietly regarded the two elves standing below.

“…Why have you come here?” Belsethia’s lips twitched, but she broke the silence first. “Shouldn’t you be—”

“I came to help,” Amon interrupted before she could finish. “I sensed you were in danger. I simply couldn’t sit still.”

Belsethia never expected to hear such words from a former “god.” The absurdity of it overwhelmed her, but it didn’t cloud her judgment. She stared at the towering, sacred being, her voice tense and urgent. “But if that’s true… wouldn’t all our efforts over the past three thousand years be for nothing?!”

“No,” Amon’s voice was gentle yet deep. His massive form quickly shrank before Belsethia and Ilian—from a towering mountain to a house, then down to a few meters tall. Still an imposing figure, but no longer radiating divinity. “This isn’t a miracle, nor a divine descent—I’m here simply as a friend of mortals, to lend a hand.”

He paused, giving Belsethia a moment to consider, then continued slowly: “I won’t reveal myself to ordinary soldiers or civilians, nor will I do anything that might rekindle faith. You understand how gods operate—if mortals don’t perceive a ‘miracle,’ then no miracle occurs. If no one believes a god has descended, then the god does not descend…”

He glanced up at Ilian, who was just recovering from her shock, a warm smile flickering in his eyes. “Belsethia won’t tell anyone, and you won’t either, child?”

“Ah…” Ilian jumped, clearly startled by the sudden address, but quickly recovered. “Of course. I understand boundaries. I won’t… I won’t say anything.”

“That’s good,” Amon bowed his head gently, brushing the hair of Belsethia and Ilian. Then he looked around carefully, his tone suddenly tinged with surprise. “Wait… this is the Starry Sanctuary?”

“Yes. It’s fallen,” Belsethia said quietly, then added with curiosity, “Didn’t you notice earlier?”

“No. I locked onto the source of the contamination leak, confirmed only your two auras here, then burst out from the ‘boundary layer,’ crushing anything that looked threatening. I don’t know the full situation,” Amon shook his head, speaking bluntly. “What happened? Why did the Starry Sanctuary fall? Why is it so polluted?”

Belsethia gave a bitter smile, about to explain when Amon suddenly lowered his head again. “We’ll talk later. You two, get on.”

The Silver Queen was stunned. Looking at the “Nature God” clearly inviting her and Ilian to ride on his back, she was taken aback. “Get on… you want us to ride on your back?!”

“This place isn’t safe. I can feel the deep collapse continuing, uncontrolled energy leaking chaotically, and the pollution from the wasteland spreading. Get on. We’ll move somewhere safer. You can tell me what’s happened on the way,” Amon said, as a vine-like staircase materialized in the air nearby, one end on the ground, the other reaching up to his neck. “The North is anxiously waiting for news. I can carry it back.”

Belsethia and Ilian exchanged glances. Everything that had happened was beyond their understanding, leaving even the wise and iron-willed queen and her capable attendant struggling to respond. But the distant sounds of collapsing chambers and faint roars snapped them out of hesitation.

Swiftly, the two climbed onto Amon’s broad back and settled securely. Belsethia placed her longsword among the thick fur, holding her battle staff in one hand and gripping the stag’s neck fur with the other, leaning forward. “We’re ready.”

A gentle sway signaled Amon rising to his feet. But before stepping toward safety, the former Nature God suddenly seemed lost in thought, pausing as if caught in a memory. Ilian, sitting behind Belsethia, couldn’t help but ask, “Is something wrong? Do you still have—”

“Nothing,” Amon said softly, shaking his head with a hint of wistful amusement. “Just recalling some things from the past.” He began walking toward a slope on the sanctuary’s east side. The thick smoke and toxic fog parted respectfully, the tremors beneath the earth quieted, and countless delicate flowers and vines sprouted and spread beneath his feet, leaving a clean trail. Though the plants soon withered in the returning pollution, life continuously renewed itself wherever Amon stepped.

“Some things from the past?” Belsethia asked instinctively.

“Long ago, when I still maintained my presence in the mortal world, my first high priestess rode on my back like this—though only once,” Amon said quietly. “I never thought it would happen a second time… Belsethia, in theory, you’re also my ‘high priestess,’ aren’t you?”

“…Yes, in theory,” Belsethia replied, feeling a bit awkward. But she quickly realized Amon himself didn’t seem to care much about the title. She smiled wryly and ventured a question. “You and Ilian are so close to you, without any protection… won’t that cause spiritual contamination?”

“After severing the final chains, I am no longer a god—just like Lady Enya. Naturally, I no longer emit spiritual pollution,” Amon said gently. Then he shook his head. “But under certain circumstances, even someone like me, who has left divinity behind, can cause spiritual contamination. It depends more on you.”

“Certain circumstances? Depending on me?” Belsethia’s expression turned serious. “What do you mean?”

“If you still believe in me,” Amon smiled, “you will be polluted by your own faith—the deeper the faith, the heavier the contamination.”

Belsethia froze for a moment, then glanced down at herself with a strange expression before looking over at the attendant beside her, Ilian, who wore a similarly awkward and embarrassed look.

“Doubt is a good thing,” Amon’s voice came at that moment, as if he had noticed the two elves’ shifting expressions behind him. He chuckled like an elder teasing his children. “The age of the Silver Elves’ myths is over. They need worldly rulers like you—and I need them too.”

He lifted his gaze. The upper fractured zone of the Starfall Sanctuary stretched to its end, where a sheer cliff towered before them. Below that precipice lay the shattered remains of the sanctuary’s dragonbone framework and the buffer chambers. From the distance, the majestic wall’s shimmering glow drifted among the ruins, some of it extending onto the sanctuary’s main structure like a spectacular aurora waterfall cascading down from the clouds.

Deep within the collapsed wreckage, thick dust and smoke billowed and swirled.

Some of the smoke rose from inside the sanctuary itself, but much of it came from the aberrant legions crushed and buried in the cataclysm. Many of those monsters were not yet fully dead. Their vast numbers, a measure of luck, and stubborn vitality allowed them to cling to life in the depths of the ruins. But as time passed, they were rapidly becoming just another part of the drifting dust.

“…This is a fitting end.”

Amon stood atop the cliff, his voice low and somber. It was unclear whether he spoke of the grand sanctuary or the monsters fading away beneath the rubble.

Then he turned toward the dense forest still shrouded in scorching smoke to the south of the sanctuary’s crash zone and took a step forward onto the earth.

At the same time, in the northern reaches of the Gaoling Kingdom, in the forest south of the sanctuary’s wreckage, blood and fire continued to spread.

The burning dust stung the nostrils, and the scent of blood mixed with foul decay hung heavy over the battlefield. Distant cries of battle tore at the nerves like unstable hallucinations. Through the bloodstained haze, the blazing forest and the monsters emerging endlessly from the thickets seemed to weave together into a nightmare from which there was no waking, squeezing the mental limits of every mortal soldier still holding the forest line.

Since the Starfall Sanctuary fell beyond the horizon, the terrible breach that had torn between the wasteland and the civilized world was finally sealed. But that did not mean the monsters who had crossed the breach and invaded the forest would vanish into thin air. Without the command nodes at their rear, these rampaging abominations still ravaged the forest defenses, driven by instinct to push ever southward toward the heart of civilization. To stem this deadly aftershock, the surviving ranger corps—humans and elves alike—had been locked in fierce combat for a full day and night.

Now, the first light of dawn was slowly spreading over the distant forest, yet the battle within the forest line raged on…

(End of chapter)