Chapter 1509: Dropping By

The Deep Sea—this was the foundation of the world’s lowest layer, the cornerstone of the universe, a realm untouched by the light of reality or the order of matter. Within the primordial chaos of the “background tremors,” nothing from the true universe could find footing here. Only through layers of distortion and reshaping across various domains could anything appear in this dark abyss as mere “projections.”

Even the mighty gods had to obey the laws of the world itself. Their divine realms were the largest and most stable clusters of projections in the Deep Sea. Over countless ages, the mortal world’s collective “imagination” and “faith” had shaped the order and form of these projections. The gods operated precisely along the trajectories defined by these currents of thought. In other words, beyond the protective barriers of these divine realms—where mortal minds cast no light—lay the perilous “Void Death Zones.” Any deviation was forbidden; standing unshielded in the void’s darkness was tantamount to self-annihilation.

Yet, exceptions always existed.

Some gods had broken free from the shackles of their divine status, no longer driven mad by straying from mortal belief. They could roam the Deep Sea in limited ways, so long as they didn’t linger too long or approach too close to the thought-supported divine realms. A prime example was the goddess of magic, Mylmina, who often took leisurely strolls through the Deep Sea, standing at a safe distance to gaze into others’ domains.

Then there were gods who had not only escaped the constraints of their divine seats and the rules of mortal thought but had also gained access to the advanced technology of the Star of Zenith, the pioneers’ equipment backing them. Such a god could undertake far more astonishing feats—like the ancient deity now preparing to make a grand spectacle.

Lady Night stood silently in the vast darkness between divine realms, her form like a rolling black cloud shimmering with countless tiny streams of light. These shifting glimmers formed a barrier-like structure, shielding her from the hostile Deep Sea environment and stabilizing her existence in this chaotic, dark foundation of the world.

“…Self-check… Anchor generator functioning well,” Lady Night murmured, glancing down at her form. Her gaze settled on the flickering points of light covering her surface, their patterns faintly resembling the totemic reliefs etched on the anchor generator’s casing. “Looks like it can hold for quite a while. Not bad.”

Muttering to herself, she lifted her head and cast a glance toward a faintly glowing dome not far off—the dome of a divine realm. Through the translucent, misty light curtain, she could make out the scene inside: fertile fields, bountiful gardens, rivers flowing with honeyed wine, and ethereal spirits and gods feasting in the garden.

At first glance, it was a picture of prosperity and life. But knowing this scene had persisted for centuries, perhaps millennia, made it feel eerily unnatural.

“I thought I could just teleport inside the barrier… but I still have to find my own way in,” Lady Night said, shaking her head after watching the dome for a moment. “Well, that’s a good sign. It means this divine realm is still in decent shape. Strong repulsion means a stable foundation… Hopefully, that also means it’s tougher to crack overall.”

With that, the ancient god took a step forward in the void. In the next instant, her towering figure stood at the edge of the divine realm’s barrier. She reached out, touching the barrier’s surface, then tapped it with her fingers as if testing its hardness. Ripples spread across the barrier’s surface, prompting a faint smile.

“Pretty solid… Seems like, no matter the era, the concept of ‘abundance’ is one of the deepest roots in mortal hearts,” she whispered. Then, stepping back half a pace as if prepared, she made a subtle gesture in the void. Suddenly, a gray-white flickering shadow appeared in her hand, curling and writhing against the dark backdrop. It threatened to dissipate in the Deep Sea’s environment, but the anchor generator’s power stabilized it instantly.

The ancient god pondered briefly, then casually affixed the shadowy rift to the top of her black-and-white scepter. With her other hand, she reached into the darkness and summoned a swirling cloud of shadowy dust into her palm. The dust rapidly condensed and compressed, transforming in the blink of an eye into a trembling gray-white core pulsing with immense power—so potent and focused that the barrier of the Abundance Divine Realm reacted almost immediately!

Ripples appeared spontaneously on the barrier’s outer wall, converging swiftly toward where Lady Night was watching. But she only smiled faintly at this instinctive “defense.” Casually, she placed the powerful gray-white core into the center of the shadowy rift atop her scepter. Then, drawing her arm back like a bowstring, she released—

“Boom!”

Though sound could not normally travel in the dark chaos of the Deep Sea, a deep, muffled boom suddenly rippled like a tangible wave throughout the entire cluster of divine realm projections.

Inside the Abundance Divine Realm, under clear and radiant skies, the eternal garden of harvest was hosting an endless feast. Along the banks of rivers flowing with wine and honey, spirit beings powered by divine energy danced joyfully. Among fruit-laden trees and bushes, indistinct holy spirits moved to and fro. A long banquet table stood at the garden’s center, laden with the most delicious and plentiful delicacies mortals could imagine. Chosen spirits drank heartily on either side, continuing the never-ending yet utterly meaningless celebration.

At the head of the table sat three beautiful goddesses, quietly observing all within the realm with gentle, serene smiles. Each bore a lovely feminine face and graceful figure, golden hair cascading like waterfalls, adorned with wreaths woven from wheat, grass, and flowers. Their lower bodies resembled deer, their light brown or pale golden fur shimmering faintly in the sunlight.

Gaia, Earth Mother and eldest of the three fertility goddesses; Eve, the Harvest Goddess and middle sister; and Flora, the youngest, Goddess of Spring—these were the gods mortals imagined as rulers of harvest and earth, eternal sovereigns beneath this dome… and prisoners.

Within this seemingly eternal, meaningless, unchanging feast, the youngest goddess suddenly blinked.

“Will He understand what we mean?” she broke the statue-like smile, speaking softly to herself.

“Hard to say… Though He was once the chief god of the elves and closely tied to our origins, He severed ties with the divine seat three thousand years ago and no longer concerns Himself with matters in the Deep Sea,” Gaia replied quietly. “Besides, the messages we left are too obscure and subtle. Even if He notices, He probably can’t decipher anything.”

“But this is the best we can do now,” Eve added, breaking free from her own statue-like “eternal smile” with a sigh. “Crossing the divine boundary to send messages to the mortal world without triggering our divinity—just managing that step is almost a miracle.”

Flora nodded gently, then looked behind herself and her sisters. In her vision, she clearly saw shadows beyond mortal perception, drifting from their bodies like chains of illusions. These chains stretched across the lush grass and flowers of the earth, and at each chain’s end—in every bush’s shadow, beneath every fruit tree, at the riverbed, in the soil’s cracks—lurked a dark, writhing horror, as if stained with blood.

A chilling sight, one that could drive mortals mad. Within this divine realm, beneath the peaceful, beautiful, fertile surface, every crevice and shadow hid a growing, filthy madness.

Yet these “aberrations” had not yet crossed the dreadful tipping point. Order and reason still held sway here, so the three goddesses still saw a realm of peace and calm… at least, when they didn’t look too closely.

“We’re at least luckier than other gods,” Eve suddenly said. “There are three of us sisters. When trouble comes, we can consult each other; when horrors arise, we can encourage one another. Even when we cross boundaries, we can watch each other, preventing loss of control near the edges.”

“Boundaries…” Gaia murmured, gazing into the distance beyond the garden’s edge. As the eldest, she could see more and truer things than her two younger sisters. “The boundaries are shifting faster and faster. For thousands of years, mortal understanding of the world has never changed as drastically as it does today.”

Eve shook her head slightly. “But it’s precisely this ‘change’ that gives us the chance to think and discuss freely now.”

Listening to her elder sisters, Flora lowered her gaze to her hands. Under her watch, they began to blur and shimmer, as if two versions of herself overlapped with a slight misalignment.

“In fact, the ‘Divine Council’ mortals established is already working. Our divine and mortal parts are gradually separating, aren’t they?” After a long silence, the youngest goddess finally spoke. “I think we could be bolder, like those two who’ve already succeeded. Our divine parts lack independent thought and only follow rules, but if our mortal parts act quickly, they could complete the separation…”

“We’ve discussed this plan. It won’t work,” Gaia interrupted without hesitation. “Though signs of separation exist, it’s far from stable enough to act recklessly. Sending messages to the mortal world is already testing the boundary. One step further, and we risk losing control instantly.”

Second Sister Eve also shook her head. “Some successes simply can’t be replicated… To shatter the heavens requires absolute mastery over one’s own power and the brink of madness. Escaping divine authority demands thousands of years of preparation and a profound understanding of the ‘Demonic Web.’ We are neither ancient gods with vast experience and overwhelming strength, nor do we possess the extensive preparation and knowledge of the latter. Recklessly crossing boundaries will only lead to madness—and the consequences of that madness will consume not just ourselves, but countless mortals as well.”

Flora fell silent. After a long pause, she could only sigh. “Yes… We can’t afford to doom them. But our time—”

Bang!!!

A deep, muffled boom suddenly echoed through the entire realm. The powerful force carried by the sound swept across the divine dome like a storm. Flora’s sigh was instantly cut off. The young goddess, still relatively inexperienced among the pantheon, looked up in shock and cried out, “What’s happening?!”

“It seems some incredibly powerful force has struck our dome…” Eldest Sister Gaia immediately stood up. “But how is that possible…?”

For these ‘young gods’ who had never witnessed the Age of the Voyagers, an external assault on the divine realm beneath the deep sea was unimaginable. The three goddesses were simultaneously shaken by the impact. As they moved, the entire realm shifted in an instant—

The feast at the long table froze mid-motion. All the holy spirits seemed to be suspended in place, as if time itself had stopped. The ethereal beings dancing along the riverbank quickly retreated into nearby bushes and grass. The gentle breeze across the plains ceased, the saplings in the garden no longer swayed, and thorny brambles rapidly sprouted along the garden’s edges. These thorns grew taller and thicker, soon forming a towering wall that began to climb upward and close in.

Through the narrowing gaps in the thorns, Flora finally glimpsed the great hole in the dome above—the barrier woven from the lives of mortals had been shattered by some incomprehensible force. Terrifying cracks spread from the breach all the way to the horizon. Though the rift was already beginning to heal rapidly, the dreadful sight left the three goddesses stunned and speechless.

Then, the thorny barrier above the garden sealed shut.

The Fertile Garden was now completely encased in a sturdy wall of thorns, their faint glow illuminating the area around the “Feast Table” where the three goddesses stood. The turbulent energies coursing through the divine realm calmed as the thorns closed. Only then did Flora allow herself a small breath of relief, gently patting her chest. “What was that just now…?”

No sooner had she spoken than a wave of grayish-white light suddenly flooded her vision.

The pale hue surged like a tide, spreading from the thorns to every living thing in the garden. The grass and flowers instantly lost their color; even the shimmering light in the air dulled into a lifeless gray. The illusory holy spirits gathered around the table vanished one by one. Amid the sudden wave of helplessness, Flora felt a cold, soft hand rest on her shoulder.

That hand carried an unmatched power.

A gentle, harmless voice spoke softly from behind the Goddess of Spring.

“I’m the one who knocked.”

(End of chapter)