Chapter 922: The Vanished God

Nariel’s words threw everyone present into instant confusion. Neither grammatically nor semantically could anyone make sense of what she’d just said. In Gawain’s mind, a phrase suddenly surfaced—The language and knowledge of gods are beyond mortal comprehension; even if you clearly hear their voice, you cannot grasp their true intent…

He shook his head sharply, pushing the thought away. That phrase definitely wasn’t meant to describe the situation before him.

“What exactly happened?” he asked, turning to the girl in the holographic projection. “You said there was a ‘woman without legs’? Was the intruder a woman without legs?”

Nariel immediately nodded and made a tall, towering gesture with her hands. “Yes, and she was huge—like a tower. She ran all the way to the unconscious zone at the edge of the neural network. That’s where she escaped from.”

Gawain’s brow furrowed deeper. Realizing this line of questioning might not yield clear information, he cut her off. “Wait there. I’m going into the network to talk with you directly.”

Nariel nodded. “Okay.”

“Handle the network integration follow-up here,” Gawain said, turning to Rebecca and Kamail. “Although the network seems stable now, don’t let your guard down. Monitor all hubs for the next twenty-four hours, keep listening for any abnormal signals. Also… Kamail, upload the Kraken runes into the network and broadcast them globally.”

That last instruction had just occurred to him—a vague hunch sparked by Nariel’s chaotic description and the subtle clues he’d noticed during the earlier vision. Something about this incident felt far from ordinary.

After issuing these orders, Gawain wasted no time in the real world and quickly connected to the neural network where Nariel was located.

…

This “New World,” built upon the nodes of human consciousness, had just weathered a storm. Now, everything had calmed. Thanks to the virtual world’s unique nature, it was rapidly self-repairing. The traces of the storm were fading fast across the entire network, leaving only faint cracks and chaotic lines on the horizon as evidence that an uninvited guest had once “visited.”

At the very center of the New World stood the mirrored Imperial Capital. A massive pyramid-shaped structure rose where the real-world “Cecil Palace” would be. This giant pyramid was the projection of the empire’s computing center and its distributed computing stations within the network, serving as the management hub.

Inside the pyramid’s largest conference hall, the senior technical leaders overseeing the neural network had gathered. Among them were some former Eversleeping Archbishops and several experts from the Arcane Technology Institute. When Gawain entered, he was the last to arrive.

“I saw the remnants in the sky outside,” he said casually. “Looks like the fluctuations in the neural network were far worse than in the real world.”

“We went through a storm,” came the voice of Megal III, emanating from a pulsating, writhing starry light hovering above the conference table. “A disruptive ‘shockwave’ spread throughout the entire world. But it didn’t cause any real destruction—only widespread visual interference. The repairs are nearly complete.”

“That helps us understand the intruder’s true intent,” Gawain nodded, glancing at one of the two special seats to his left. “Nariel, project what you saw here—if the images are ‘safe.’”

Nariel clearly understood the meaning of “safe.” She stood, spreading her hands as she nodded. “It’s very safe. I’ve already ‘consumed’ the unsafe parts.”

With that, a flood of shifting, chaotic light and shadow spread around them, quickly forming a projection that filled the entire hall. Amid the thick, rolling mist, Gawain and the others witnessed the recent chase at the network’s boundary—they saw the shadow crossing the border, the woman who clearly wasn’t human, the clash between the White Spider and the intruder, and finally, the intruder’s escape.

Gawain’s eyes widened as he focused intently. As the scenes unfolded, he caught more and more details. When he noticed the symbolic runes of the magical realm and heard fragments of conversation between the intruder and Nariel, his brow furrowed deeply, his expression growing darker.

Around him, many former Eversleeping Archbishops also wore grave looks. These experts, who had spent half or even entire lifetimes dealing with divine powers, shared Gawain’s unsettling impression.

The intruder… bore unmistakable “mythic” traits.

Soon, Nariel’s “memory” ended, and the illusions receded like a tide. Gawain immediately turned to the eyewitness. “Nariel, when you were entangled with the intruder, did you sense anything similar to yourself? Some kind of ‘trait’ you and Duvalet share…?”

Gawain struggled to express his thoughts. Human language felt woefully inadequate to describe such transcendent experiences. And Nariel, a relatively inexperienced “young god,” made it even harder to explain. But Duvalet, the black-clad elder sitting beside Nariel, understood immediately. He nodded and answered on behalf of his “divine half”: “There was a similar aura. Nariel mentioned when she returned that she felt the intruder was somewhat like ‘us’… a kindred spirit.”

Almost everyone’s face in the room tightened instantly.

Nariel followed up seriously, “But only ‘like’ a kindred spirit. There are big differences—like, I have more legs than she does.”

Gawain: “…”

Why was this White Spider so obsessed with legs?

Nariel’s strange fixation nearly broke the room’s focus, but the gravity of the situation quickly pulled everyone back to the matter at hand. Selina Gerfen, who had been silent until now, stood. “So we can roughly conclude that a god has invaded our network…”

Yuri broke the silence. “Not necessarily an invasion. More like using our network to carry out some other plan…”

“That’s still an invasion in essence,” Magnus said loudly. “They didn’t ask anyone’s permission.”

“The key now is the identity of this god. Among the known deities, which one fits that image? We can rule out the god of war first…”

Discussion began to stir in the hall. At that moment, a sudden voice echoed in Gawain’s mind—it was Hetty, sending an urgent message from the real world.

“Ancestor,” Hetty’s voice was tense and urgent, “something’s wrong… Just now, the Grand Regent Victoria sent word that prayers to the Goddess of Magic have suddenly stopped receiving any response.”

“What?” Gawain’s eyes snapped wide. He sat up straight, his mind racing. “You mean the Goddess of Magic… has disappeared?”

Hetty seemed surprised by his drastic conclusion but quickly confirmed, “I’m afraid so… Normally, even though prayers to the Goddess of Magic rarely get divine responses, worshippers at least feel psychological feedback and a transcendent gaze from the deity. But since just now, even that basic feedback has vanished. Winterhold has organized multiple groups of mages with varying strength and faith levels to conduct prayer experiments. The results are all the same.

“Also, when I received the news, I tried myself… and there was no response at all.”

Gawain’s face darkened like still water. He spoke slowly, “Based on our research into how gods operate, as long as a god exists, they maintain contact with their followers—prayers must produce feedback. This feedback doesn’t change at the god’s whim, unless the god destroys their own divine seat and enters a state of suspended death like Amon, or is replaced like the Lord of Storms…”

“Yes, Ancestor,” Hetty said gravely. “So the only explanation now is that the Goddess of Magic has vanished… or at least, the ‘divine seat’ corresponding to her has disappeared.”

“That’s probably the truth,” Gawain replied. “Hold the situation steady on your end. Most mages only have shallow faith in the Goddess of Magic, so there shouldn’t be major chaos. Announce the successful network integration, then release all the pre-prepared materials for handling emergencies—the soccer match news, the new Shadowplay trailer, aerial documentaries, commercials, even the songs Wendy recorded… just give the public something to focus on. As for the mages’ concerns… the Goddess of Magic has no church, so have the Supernatural Affairs Department of the Administration Bureau liaise with them. For now, only accept feedback from the public and wait for the Magic Research Department’s investigation results.

“Arrange it like that. We’ll discuss specifics when I return to the real world.”

“Yes, Ancestor.”

The connection with Hetty ended. Gawain refocused on the meeting. Wendy, sitting nearby, seemed to sense something and looked at him curiously. “Your Majesty, have you figured something out?”

“It’s probably the Goddess of Magic, Mylmina,” Gawain exhaled, his expression complex. “Hetty just reported that Mylmina’s divine seat has disappeared.”

Everyone in the hall exchanged uneasy glances.

“Nariel,” Gawain turned to his left, “the intruder told you she couldn’t have any contact with mortals, right? That she barely severed ties with them?”

“Yes,” Nariel nodded. “And she said she owed someone a favor and asked me to tell you she’ll repay it someday… but I have a feeling she never intends to come back.”

“…If my guess is right, she definitely doesn’t plan to ‘come back,’” Gawain said calmly. A flood of clues and hypotheses formed in his mind, the fog clearing enough for the story to take shape. The conclusion was shocking. If he hadn’t seen Amon’s suspended death firsthand and talked with him, he might never have considered this possibility: Another god shattering their own divine seat…

He shook his head. Although he was now almost certain the intruder Nariel encountered was the Goddess of Magic, Mylmina, and that she had no intention of returning—meaning reclaiming her divine seat—he still held a sliver of hope about the “favor” she promised to repay.

The reason was simple: gods rarely lie, and they don’t make promises lightly. Even gods freed from the bonds of their divine seats seem bound by this.

But now was clearly not the time to ponder how a god might “repay a favor”—because one capricious deity had just vanished, leaving behind a huge mess.

Of course, what the deity left behind wasn’t just a mess. To Gawain, who had a keen eye for opportunity, this chaotic aftermath was filled with valuable clues—clues that could help him understand how the gods operated, and even allow him to speculate about the state of other deities.

Perhaps… it was time to seek out Amon once more.

…

Deep within the Fortress of Defiance, in the so-called “Courtyard District” of the Shadowfell, countless shattered monoliths floated in midair, forming fragmented islands. Ancient metal shards from a bygone era and binding devices from the days of Gondor crisscrossed, holding fast the massive “corpse” of a white stag.

In this dark and chaotic realm, Amon remained as patient as ever, quietly dormant. Loneliness and silence seemed to hold no meaning for him.

Then, suddenly, his tightly shut eyes opened once again. His gaze—like gemstones forged from pure light—fixed intently on the depths of the Shadowfell.

Out of the vast, murky darkness emerged a faint purple figure, shimmering with glowing orbs and runes. It appeared abruptly, rushing like a fierce wind, sweeping swiftly past Amon not far from where he lay.

Amon watched silently as this “gust of wind” appeared and vanished. He fixed his gaze on the direction it had disappeared, waiting patiently. Moments later, the pale purple figure came hurtling back from afar, just as swiftly as before.

The figure came to a halt. Standing on the shattered land of the Shadowfell was a tall woman, as imposing as a clock tower, her entire form dimly radiant. She stared down at Amon’s resting form, her voice tinged with surprise and confusion: “You… so you’re actually—”

But before she could finish, she shook her head. “No, I have to isolate myself even further…”

Before the words had fully left her lips, the woman transformed once again into that rushing “wind,” speeding deep into the Shadowfell. Only a fading voice reached Amon’s ears in the darkness:

“Don’t tell anyone I was here!!”

Throughout it all, Amon made no sound, no movement. He simply watched in silence, his crystal-like eyes quietly reflecting everything.

“…Huh?”

(End of chapter)