"I don’t need to hear it. I can feel it. Thank you... truly, thank you."
Riley’s tears streamed down her flawless face. The angelic and demonic wings folded away, and she leaned quietly into Orson’s arms.
"The one who should be saying thank you is me. You let me live my dream. I never knew retirement could be this peaceful." Orson stroked her hair, his eyes filled with serenity and contentment.
Whether this world was real or not didn’t matter. He had no regrets about spending these years under the same roof with her.
It was a beautiful dream.
No demons, no doomsday. Just waking early, fishing by the river, and coming home at dusk. It was enough to satisfy him completely.
He had also seen another side of his so-called enemies—less vile than he once believed. Often, they had simply stood on the opposite side of fate. And sometimes, one small choice could turn the gears of destiny.
After a long silence, Orson smiled.
Riley’s voice carried both resolve and sorrow. Orson didn’t notice the flicker in her eyes.
He glanced at the Spiritfruit in his hand and sighed. "Even in my dreams, that brat managed to plant a trap. Clever girl."
The child in his dream—no wonder she felt so familiar. She had been Sienna all along.
But now Sienna’s thoughts were impossible to read, even for him. Perhaps inheriting the Prismatic Gem had made her a puppet of the Mother of Chaos. Or perhaps not. What was certain was that the will of the previous era still lingered, shaping the Infinite Dimensions of today.
The transcendent beings were not omniscient gods, but their gaze stretched farther than his could.
That night, the two of them sat at the dining table with a bottle of championship red wine.
Orson cooked a sloppy stew—ugly, bland—but Riley ate it with relish, her eyes glowing with love.
That gaze left him dazed. He didn’t know how he would face Blank when he returned. And Riley had told him enough about the gods that he doubted he would see Blank anytime soon.
Even though the Chaos Cauldron had masked his awakening aura, multiple galactic deities had sensed the appearance of a God-tier adventurer. Their eyes were now fixed on the star systems around Earth.
Their purpose was clear—to "convince" him to become one of their weapons.
God-tier adventurers were rare even among thousands of worlds. The gods were no united front. Each one was recruiting for the war that spanned the galaxy. The most effective way was to transform adventurers into living weapons.
And Sienna’s words in his dream now rang true. Riley hadn’t wanted to kill him—she had saved him.
The awakening battlefield was unique, built by the ancient pantheon itself. No god could peer into its depths. But the moment he left it, every Forbidden-tier spell he cast would shine like a beacon across the void.
Riley’s blood seal had locked away his magic—not to harm him, but to protect him.
Because he was not yet strong enough.
"Then I’m just... a mage who can’t cast spells now? Damn, hot!" Orson slurped noodles and nearly burned himself.
"I can set a limit," Riley said gently, passing him a napkin. "The seal will break when you’re strong enough—or when there’s no other choice."
He smiled, their eyes locking. For a fleeting moment, he almost said he wanted to stay, to spend his life quietly here with her.
Godslayer still needed him. Blank and Sienna were waiting for him to come home. The will of Godslayer could not falter. He had to fight until it all ended.
He didn’t care about the war of gods and demons. But he couldn’t abandon the people and memories he cherished.
And so, Riley placed before him the final dessert—Spiritfruit.
Eating it would max his Luck at 99, but it would also send him back as a mage stripped of his magic, taking Riley with him.
The fruit gleamed like crystal. Orson took a casual bite, grimacing.
"How is it?" Riley asked, brow raised.
"...Let’s just say, whatever plants that brat grows in the future, I’m never eating them again." He forced a laugh. The texture was strange, watery, like biting into raw pork fat.
"Your Luck has increased by +99."
"Your Luck has reached its maximum."
"You are departing from the True God Domain: Perfect World."
As he swallowed the last piece, a system chime echoed.
Orson stared at his hand—it was fragmenting into particles. Not resurrection. Something more violent. The world pulled away from him.
Riley’s eyes glistened as she reached for him. But her fingers touched nothing—only fading motes of light.
The dream was turning to ash.
Orson’s heart lurched. "This isn’t your domain? You... you can’t release it yourself?"
Had he grown so dulled by peace that he’d forgotten the obvious?
"Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. Please... don’t carry guilt." Riley forced a smile through her tears, raised her hand in a cheer, then shifted her voice—still soft, still intoxicating.
"Orson... remember to eat breakfast. And if you can... think of me, even just a little. I love you. I love you so, so much."
Her body dissolved into light. Darkness swallowed everything.
Suffocation Immunity!
Suffocation Immunity!
The message blinked before his eyes.
Orson was back in the depths of the lake.
Water rushed into his lungs. His scream was nothing but bubbles.
The lake was empty. Even the stone figure of Riley was gone.
He drifted like a corpse, staring blankly at the void above.
Only one truth remained.
And in that, he had lost utterly.
She had made him face his heart. Made him accept her love.
She had said they would meet in the abyss.
A hand yanked him by the collar, dragging him up.
Usher. Freed from Sakan’s dominion, no longer enslaved.
"You’ve won the Awakening Battle!"
"Difficulty Rating: SS."
"You have earned 2.1 billion merit points."
"You obtained the blueprint for the God-Hunter Accessory Set, an Artifact aligned with your traits."
"Your performance has raised your rank on the Throne of Kings leaderboard."
"Your power has reached God-tier. You may return to your main world or travel to another Infinite Dimensions world."
The system prompts flooded in. Two beams of light descended on the lakeshore.
Usher’s voice was sharp. "What’s wrong with you? Say something."
The man before him was hollow-eyed, broken, a stranger.
Was this truly his lifelong rival?
Minutes passed before Orson finally stirred, dripping wet.
With a click, he detached the Titan prosthetic from his shoulder. Two beast contracts floated toward Usher.
Usher froze, baffled.
"Orgod has sent you a trade request."