Only God
Chapter 455 - 399: The True Cause of Repentance is not Miracles (Trinity)

Chapter 455: Chapter 399: The True Cause of Repentance is not Miracles (Trinity)

Mira fell into the pitch-black lake.

The Slaier from the past stood no chance against the Six Gods and the Lady of Suffering. Despite mustering all his strength, he couldn’t struggle for long. The absolute gap between them sealed the course of the outcome from the very beginning.

And now, the God of Lies and Trickery was once again manipulated by the Lady of Suffering, no longer struggling to break free, motionless as a puppet. Before long, the past’s Slaier was crushed by the Six Gods. At the crucial moment, he managed to burst into a crack in time and space, narrowly escaping disaster.

The present can only be described as "the destruction of eons."

As Mira fell into the lake, she watched all the scenes unfold before her, but she was powerless to return. That strike from the Lady of Suffering grievously wounded her soul, robbed her of all her strength, and left her unable to struggle anymore.

The vortex of pain collided with Mira’s soul, tearing at her heart.

Her vision gradually became chaotic, and slowly, everything before her eyes blurred. The endless wails on the Sword of Suffering lingered on her body, continuously tormenting her soul.

Despair spread over her.

Pitiful wails crowded her ears.

It was as if countless wronged spirits were cursing her, surrounding her, questioning why she did not reach out a saving hand, manifesting the glory of God.

Mira wanted to answer something, reached out her hand to grasp at something, but there were too many wails, drowning out her voice; that hand could grasp nothing.

"Don’t, don’t bother me!"

Fear, a fear that penetrated her soul, filled her heart.

She, who came from Heaven, had never seen so much suffering; it surrounded her, twisted around her relentlessly, with piercing wails everywhere, dragging her down constantly.

It was as if the world knew no happiness, only suffering, everything was pain.

Mira felt herself slowly suffocating, her entire soul shattering.

She stretched out her hands with all her might, trying to bring them together, trying to pray to God.

Suddenly, deep within her heart, as if someone asked her:

Mira, do you really want to pray now?

The girl didn’t know whether it was her inner query or something else,

But she knew that she already had an answer.

No, no...

Still waiting...

God... I’m still waiting...

It’s not time yet, still waiting.

...............

Anos stood on the spot.

The Six Gods awaited her, just to verify the Prophecy of old, to reshape the ancient order from three thousand years ago.

Prophecy.

Anos understood what Prophecy truly meant.

She had seen wonders that mortals could not imagine in their lifetimes, on that grand stairway, she could witness how vast fate truly was.

Prophecy... it’s like the first few lines of a script for an opera, although merely a few brief lines, they reveal the direction of the future. Life is like an opera, where everyone is led by the nose by those few lines, oblivious to what exactly is written.

Life is determined by fate.

And Prophecy is the clear proof of fate.

Anos watched the Six Gods.

The Six Gods also gazed at her, for she was the Primordial Messenger prophesied.

Before her birth, the Prophecy had already existed, like an actor shackled in chains, performing in an opera never witnessed by anyone, unknowingly.

Joy, sorrow, happiness, envy, conflict, pain, and ego, all were being determined bit by bit, invisible threads accompanying the Prophecy, pulling at a person’s limbs.

It’s like... the sky is clearly right before the eyes, yet the bird suddenly realizes, that sky is a fake, just a cage.

"It’s so much like an opera with an ending already determined."

Anos murmured absent-mindedly.

Mira’s arrival was nothing but a useless interlude.

All was predetermined, the Prophecy had manifested before she knew it.

On that journey, she was both the chained actor and the chained spectator.

Whatever it was, it was never up to her.

The formless bond pulled at Anos, just as an actor shackled by chains cannot leave the opera mid-way, she had no right to refuse fate.

The Six Gods focused on her, the Head of the Six Gods raised his hand, and fragments that had once shattered from the Golden Hall emerged, in the darkness, a new Golden Heart was slowly reforming.

"We... are all waiting for you."

The Head of the Six Gods said slowly,

"You should know who you are—the Primordial Messenger."

The hands of the Emperor wavered slightly, then steadied,

"I know,

I’ve witnessed my fate; I’m far clearer than you on what I must go through."

She was very clear.

Endless pain and sorrow enveloped her; she was about to be crushed, long-absent emotions swept through her chest, pushing her down, down until she was pressed into a grave.

Having a Golden Heart was a form of liberation.

Although no more joy or happiness could be spoken of, suffering would never torment again; desires, unwillingness all would fade, like a bird, calmly accepting that the cage before it was all the sky.

"I have lost that Golden Heart."

Anos held her right chest, which was empty,

Then, she said slowly,

"I am more aware than mortals... of the significance of Prophecy."

Those simple words fell.

And then, a moment of silence.

Focusing on Anos, Pastor Flora suddenly let go of all anxieties, a weight lifted from her heart, replaced by an indescribable relief; her daughter was after all the Envoy in the Prophecy.