Chapter 185: Forgive me Mother, For I have Sinned

"Well, how does it feel to be outdone by a "young person" you were just looking down upon a few days ago?"

Aerendil felt like such words were gigantic hammers that pounded in his very soul; long gone was his confidence, and what was left was only the pride of being called the false prophet and being a calamity-level existence much older and experienced than Sophia. Yet, all this experience amounts to nothing for his pride makes him refuse to use the one thing that will surely save him from this predicament, instead, as he continued to conjure original, never before seen magic circle that contains formulae that the king of elves have just thought of right about now, he cannot help but grumble.

_How does it feel, you ask?_

By asking that question to himself, Aerendil started to wonder, though his indignant attitude towards even a divine death of his goddess made him not give up creating magic circles, the only thing he can do to save his life besides relying on that repulsive stick.

_It hurts, you little shit... It hurts..._

Aerendil, a prodigious man who have been blessed by the position of prophet from a very young age have never faced such an opponent, yes, he have faced the prophet of Siginarugan and have come into draw multiple times, and also, yes, he feels stingy when their battle cannot find any kind of conclusion, yet still, he took pride of him having only one rival and for him having the reputation of the only prophet that no calamity dared to face unprovoked, well there is also the geographical constraints and war schematics during the war of gods and the continental wars, but still, no one other than the prophet of the undead have fought and match him on a one on one.

Key word, match.

In no way did the prophet of the undead is leading against him, they were like the unstoppable force and the immovable object, no one will yield, yet no one also emerged victorious, thus, when Aerendil entered this fight, he thought that everything will be the same, the worse case scenario is him being able to finish the fight whenever he wanted, thus he "humored" his opponent, fighting against her in a fight against magic spells that are made on the spot and even "allowed" Sophia to cast him potent illusions.

And the result is bare in the eyes of anyone who dared to stare at their battle, his eyes, his strongest possession, the one that let him ascend and retain his position as a prophet and calamity is now punctured by two spikes that syphons mana and lifespan combined, what is worse is that, Aerendil clearly remembers his hazy mind from the moment the last illusion of Sophia, the normal one that ironically successfully captured him and said all of those cheesy lines until the moment when his eyes got pierced, and with that memory is the realization that all this time, he have been outsmarted, no, he outsmarted himself.

Not only is he conceited enough to think that he can defeat Sophia any time of the day, he also never thought of the loophole of his perfect spell, [Unholy Rejection], it was a very simple loophole, like if a laser is detecting black, then just become white, it's not some ground breaking, never before seen strategy that even the king of elves can't comprehend, it was a simple "there is a flaw to perfection" concept, and it was one hell of an annoying strategy.

_Damn it... nothing fucking works... I'm starting... to feel faint... should I really use that staff? The very same staff that killed my goddess?_

Aerendil cannot help but think in despair, yet, as if his opponent knew what he was thinking, the king of elves heard a jeering voice from his oh-so-detested enemy.

"Are you satisfied with such an outcome?"

Sophia's voice sounded like she was mocking, however, strangely enough, or maybe not considering Aerendil's situation, he remembered that moment.

The moment that even if it had passed for centuries is something that the king of elves still has nightmares about.

It was a scene of giant tentacles ripping through his mother's, or his mother figure, the goddess of nature's skin, her eyes dripping golden blood that let the blades of grass grow as tall as trees, several of her flesh was failed to be captured by the tentacles, causing hills and forests to be born out of it, it was a majestic sight, something out of a mythology, after all it was the battle of the amalgamation of life and the ruler of all that relates to death, yet for Aerendil, it was something straight out of his most dreaded outcomes.

For Aerendil, it was not a majestic battle of gods, it was the death of the one who is suppose to harbor infinite lives, for him, it was not beautiful at all, it was the worst day of his life, something that he wanted to wipe away from his memory, yet his accursed photographic memory told him otherwise.

For Aerendil, it was the death of her goddess, the event that made him have the "false" title.

For Aerendil, it was the death of his mother figure.

For Aerendil, it was the death of the very first person that believed in him, the one who said don't give up when he felt like a worthless person, it was at that moment that the one who have always called him dear, the one who doesn't look at him with fear or disgust, but only pure companionship was gone for eternity.

It was the death that made Aerendil hate the one variant of their race that is not of the same lightness and image of his goddess, enslaving them, and now, even successfully using undeads to eradicate them, it was the death that made Aerendil resolute in goin to war against the mortals of the accursed god of the undeads until he was able to successfully find a way to eradicate their existence in the face of the earth.

Finally, it's the death that made Aerendil bold enough to steal the very item that killed his mother from the possession of the undeads, yet it was also the death that made the king of elves wretch just at the though of using it to save himself right now even though he have successfully reversed it's divinities.

But what can he do? Aerendil was utterly outsmarted by his opponent, all of his experiences were used against him in a fashion that not even him have anticipated.

Aerendil is already on the verge of death, and in those moments, he has remembered the last wish of his mother.

"Live."

There was no need to elaborate further, well, in his calculations, "that" object" will just induce long slumber upon himself, it's not something lethal as it was oppressed by the residual divinity from the blood of the goddess of nature.

He would also not worry about informing his subordinates, as the slumber is a gradual pulling process.

Aerendil again remembered Sophia's question.

"Are you satisfied with such an outcome?"

And in that instant, Aerendil knew what his answer was.

"The hell I am."

Aerendil, as if reinvigorated, answered, his faint voice was now nowhere to be seen, it once again became sonorous and majestic and alongside that, a magic circle suddenly appeared at his back, engulfing him with pure bright light, in that magic circle comes a white line that also released big stream of light that glows from the ground up to the heavens above, the line connects to the place of Aerendil, the only structure that stands firmly despite their earlier nuclear bombings.

In that palace, a magic circle also started to slowly form in the ground, connecting to the white line, after such a majestic fusion, the whole world started to shake as if fearing the return of a dreadful monster, animals and bipedal alike either trembled in fear if they were nothing but a normal person or frowned in varying degrees if they were hero prospects, heroes, prophets or ancient calamities. Such reactions were something instinctive, like that of the instinctual fear of humans against snakes.

It was like this foreboding that a calamity would come, like a feeling where they would get strangled by the neck and be dragged to the gates of death one by one.

And as if in synchrony, the palace who stood firmly despite the tribulations caused by living disasters slowly crumbled, cracked in half as if nothing but a useless backdrop of a third rate play, and in what can be perceived as the middle of the palace, a white light shone brightly, again, engulfing the whole world, but now, the divinity came as if a mother's cradle, causing all individuals, whether normal or strong at any given levels to calm down, causing nay trace of fear to disappear without even a trace of its existence.

Slowly, streams of tears pattered on the ground of normal mortals, and an almost uncontrollable gratitude welled up to the hero prospects, heroes, and calamities.

[The Mother Goddess of Life has Descended]

Aerendil muttered, now, his voice full and profundity, in his sockets were new set of eyes, shining brightly as if to declare his reemergence, his hair fluttering as if the dead cells in them are dancing to the light of nature's divinity,, even the king of elves' priestly robes changed it's color form green to white, affected by the divinity that splashed the owner with overwhelming light.

Finally, after what can be articulated as eternity, yet in reality is just a second, the light has disappeared, revealing the two enemies on the verge of deciding the victor of their almost week-long tussle of cataclysmic proportions.

"Phew..."

Aerendil sighed, nowhere was the conceit in his face; could the conceit be seen as he stared at his greatest competition of his as of that moment, Sophia Demiurge.

The woman have a shocked expression, her body frozen in mid air with nothing but a fading grin, her eyes, alongside her hair, skin and dress are bleached white as if purified by a very acidic compound, however, what stood out the most are the chains that are latched to an illusory heart, the symbol of Sophia's circulatory organ, they were in a 360 direction, encasing the radius around Sophia.

In her back is a gate of pure white light, with intricate designs that harbors a giant armored skeleton holding a staff lodged in the heart of a gigantic woman elf.

Aerendil admired such a scene for a second as a staff with an orb that had white and black "lights" fighting for supremacy appeared in front of him in a white smoke.

This is the scepter of the undead, though it's length made it look like a staff, the dwarfed version to be precise, after the death of the goddess of nature, the prophet of Siginarugan have wield such a dreadful staff that connects the gate to the divine realm of Siginarugan, Aerendil managed to steal it after one of the numerous draw against his former friend and then submerged it to a pool of blood of the goddess of nature in hopes to use it one day, and as expected of a prodigious person such as himself, it did succeed, however, in his whole life, he have never expected to use the said "scepter" to save himself, it was like a memento that his aspirations of destroying the race meticulously created and cultivated by Siginarugan can be achieved.

_This fight has given me a lot of lessons._

Aerendil pondered as such, and as he delved into this lessons, the gate to the underworld opened in a harmonious bell chiming, after such an spectacle, white colored tentacles, the opposite color of the ones that dragged the elves' goddess to the underworld and also has the opposite effect emerged, latching at Sophia who remained suspended away from the ground, she will be sent on a place not even Aerendil is aware, though to be honest, he wanted to think that it was the abandoned divine realm of the goddess of nature.

"You are a strong opponent."

Such were the words Aerendil could mutter on his most formidable opponent, maybe more formidable than the prophet of undeads.

However, before Aerendil can rest his tense nerves, a voice, oh-so-familiar with him resounded all over his surroundings, causing his whole expression to freeze in place, in his subconscious he wished for the world to not crack, yet still, they did, as if mocking him and his thoughts that he can defeat his enemy.

"My, thank you, I'm flattered."

As the voice resounded, illusory shrapnels of mirrors feel to the ground, revealing his state, with eyes, yet have a staff already imbedded on his chest, though as if it was being commanded, the staff did not summoned the dreaded gates of death, Siginarugan looked at his front, in it is Sophia, in perfect condition, though the sweat in her forehead made one infer that she received a brunt of the purification of the light of life before casting an illusion towards Siginarugan.

The King of elves had a confused expression as blood flowed out of his mouth; now, all his power, even his ability to speak, was sealed, though his expression told what Sophia needed to explain.

"I casted a very strong, normal illusion to you two times, one, when I was chiding you in using the staff that I owned so that you won't notice the peculiarity of my actions, second is during the time when I am being slowly dragged by the tentacles, making me scared as hell as I feel like I was being roasted without marinate. Kidding aside, this risk succeeded because the life divinity treats anything that doesn't breathe or photosynthesize as not alive, so except for the dark magic that all light-based divinity like sun and life fights like rabid dogs, the normal illusions will be ignored. Of course, as a contingency, I coated those two potent illusion with potent dark magic, which is the sealing I have given you earlier to trick the life divinity that doesn't have a controller into purging the dark magic."

"Now that I think about it, I'm lucky that that worked and the life divinity doesn't lock on to anything invasive to the body like the sun divinity, something that I learned from the prophet of my god."

"Anyway, the second illusion is used so that you will not be able to see me grabbing the scepter of the undead and overload it with dark magic to bring back it's undead properties and overwhelm the light divinity, in this regard, I have to use two times of my mana, it's a good thing that they replenish fast, luckily, the divinity released is matched with a mortal, so I can use [Unquantifiable by Time] to my advantage without interference."

Aerendil's eyes is already a moments before closing, yet his muddled mind cannot help but marvel on the multi-layered scheme of his opponent, and at that seconds before death moment, he saw a figure, this time, it was not an illusion but a true projection of the goddess of nature, well, she's still technically alive, though Aerendil doesn't know that.

He just remembered all of what he had done to the race of his mother as well as the life she wanted to protect the most, the life that made the pacifist goddess fight with great reluctance, and as he remembered all his heretic behavior, tears flowed down his face.

"Forgive me, mother, for I have sinned."

Such is the last word of the first, and probably the last false prophet of the planet of Pentateuch.

Second Elven-Undead War Arc, End.

This chapter is inspired by LOTM's way of showcasing the effect of gods' divinities.

What can you say about the fight? This is the longest fight I have ever created, and honestly, I don't know if the fight against the main antagonist and Sophia will be as long as this.

I hope all of you enjoyed it.