Surviving The Fourth Calamity

"What did Apollo rely on to become the Sun God?" Celene turned her head and asked Hill. "That golden bow and arrow is vicious, but it doesn’t give me that scorching feeling."

"He’s got a sun chariot." Hill answered slowly. "Rises in the east, sets in the west."

"Oh... a box world..." Celene finally got it. "No wonder it got wrecked that thoroughly.

They don’t have the tricks the Bottomless Abyss has."

Hill was genuinely helpless... Celene’s reactions were always pure intuition, sharp and straight to the point, but actually understanding human words really was a bit hard for her.

"Actually, the Greek Gods have their own abyss too." Hill said softly. "It’s just a pity it was torn apart by their internal strife before it could really develop."

Hill blinked, suddenly remembering Typhon... that guy’s remaining body was taken away by Asmodeus, right?

Rose definitely wanted to fight for it too, but she clearly wanted Gaia’s portion even more.

Hill vaguely remembered that Rose had once probed for information related to the Undead Tribe and Typhon... but she was unlucky and ran into a pure Orientalist.

The type of person whose knowledge of Exterior Gods at best went as far as Athena and Poseidon, plus Hades... and most people only remembered Athena.

Even though they weren’t in the same time period, they merely expanded outward into the Universe; they didn’t lose their civilization, so all the stories that should exist were still there.

So after Rose tangled with that bunch for a while, she couldn’t stand those guys who opened their mouths with nothing but "protect Athena"... and yes, he’s from the Black and White Path.

No helping it—though the Black and White Path family’s Ink Brush treated the Spider Queen with utter respect, he was also the most wary one.

The reason he ended up in that state was precisely because of his intimate close-contact dancing and deep "communication" with a certain Chosen of the Dark Maiden.

And those Zholar who pursued goodness were most fearful of, and least willing to see, Rose.

Forced to survive in the Underworld, their lives really were very hard.

It’s only in this recent period that things have become a little better... even though Ink Brush’s Underground City got blown up, there are still other strongholds where they can go in and live!

Those Matron Zholar know best when to advance and when to retreat.

Even knowing that attacking those Underground Cities and slaughtering all the Dark Maiden’s followers would earn Rose’s reward, as long as the Spider Queen hadn’t delivered a Divine Oracle, every Matron Zholar chose to play dumb.

And Rose... in terms of understanding the Undead Tribe, she’s probably the Deity who knows them best, aside from that Alliance in Toril.

After all, she’s an existence that had dealings with the Undead Tribe as far back as Teraxil.

Her attitude while staying in that Oasis belonging to the Black and White Path said it all... you have to know, the nickname "Foul Stench Spider" was spread across the world by the Undead Tribe.

Yet she could still smile while cooperating with the Undead Tribe... Hill, honestly, was a bit afraid of this mother spider.

She truly cared about nothing but power.

Even Cyric has a bit of obsession and pursuit!

If Rose didn’t still like walking the path of the Deities, Hill genuinely felt she was the most suitable Queen for the Bottomless Abyss.

Besides, her image kind of fits... the previous Lord of the Abyss also had a spider form, you know~

Hill shook his head, pulling his train of thought back onto the right track: so, that remaining body of Typhon, did the toad on the Chaos Sea side take it, or did Asmodeus take it?

He stared fixedly at the giant screen... whoever took it, that thing would probably end up in the hands of the Bottomless Abyss in the end.

The concept of the Bottomless Abyss is very close to that abyss in Greek Mythology and its natural-born master.

It’s just that the Greek abyss concept is smaller and lower.

After all, the Greek Deities who controlled that thing were chaotic, but still basically chaotic people, not a pure Chaos-only will... so even if they appear to have no bottom line and act with utter recklessness, in truth they still pick and choose, and they do have things they want and favorites.

But the true Abyssal Will simply wants to devour everything, endlessly.

Still, it’s possible that some Law Line of the Greek abyss, though weak, could supplement certain incomplete Laws of the Bottomless Abyss... after all, it’s also a naturally existing conceptual existence.

And for a Bottomless Abyss that has no concrete concept of the Greek Gods, after tasting the flavor of the only son of the Lord of the Abyss, taking interest in the entire Greek Gods... is actually kind of... normal.

So this time, Mount Olympia of the Greek Gods is definitely getting destroyed?

Compared to embarrassing Heavenly Mountain, compared to swallowing a God of Order to have a taste, the Bottomless Abyss is bound to want another Typhon even more.

And Zeus, who’s called the Father of All Gods, is its ultimate target.

Hill pinched his own nose bridge, then pressed his eyelids, and only after confirming again did he ask, "That’s Cyric, right?"

"Where?" Celene immediately jumped up.

"Upper right of the big ape’s head, on that white cloud that looks kind of fake." Hill stood up too, pointing at a tiny white dot on the giant screen.

Celene widened her eyes, and only then, above those few tiny-looking white clouds at the top of the giant screen, did she spot Cyric, changed into White Robes and draped in a white cloak.

"Did you inherit Coron’s eyesight?" She spoke in a tone of admiration, saying something that made Hill’s face go dark.

Shaer looked Hill over with great interest; from that face whose ears were tinged slightly red, to the faintly clenched fists, to the feet shifting uneasily... she of course knew why this kid didn’t like people saying he resembled Coron.

Coron himself isn’t really a big problem; that guy might be chaotic, but he does have a brain.

After William had popularized all that messed-up Elf History of Teraxil for her, Shaer could actually understand Hill’s thinking quite well.

If only Celene didn’t have any real offspring... otherwise, who’d be willing to admit they had a mom like that?

She doesn’t even want to admit she has this older sister!

Too bad that tens of thousands of years ago, she was too stupid, and now it’s hard to deny it.

Unless the Toril Gods all fall silent into oblivion.

Tsk~

She actually rather wants that.

Although Shaer would be willing to give Rahil a hand so he doesn’t end up falling into all those chaotic traps Celene has laid out, she absolutely wouldn’t stop anything that makes Hill embarrassed... someone usually gentle and mild, light and distant, once he shows a flustered side, it’s especially delightful to watch.

Hill hesitated for a moment... then decided not to pick up that topic, just letting Celene improvise on her own.

Besides, what could he say—he couldn’t exactly say "thanks for the compliment," right?

Fortunately, the matter on the Styx’s Will side finally wrapped up.

Lansendel, who’d been pulling hair with Amanata this whole time, finally went all in.

"Lansendel!" Caught completely off guard, Amanata tasted for the first time what it meant to get slapped in the face, and he almost went insane with rage.

In fact, Hill and the others weren’t paying much attention to the fight between Lansendel and Amanata, mainly because the fight was particularly boring... when the Sun God and the Lord of Dawn go at it, the Divine Arts they’re most proficient in all lose effectiveness.

Basically, they can only resort to trading blows in close combat.

Lansendel can indeed use Divine Power to suppress Amanata... but he’s using an avatar, while that bastard Amanata came with his True form.

Counting on the Lord of Fire Elements being around—no, more accurately, after realizing that if AO had him resurrected He wouldn’t let him die easily—Amanata took that risk.

He knew very well that AO would definitely support any action that strengthened his own power... even if that action was vile and filthy.

But for Deities, devouring their own kind to become stronger has never really been considered too evil.

After all, he’s just occupying this world’s Sun and devouring its Divine Core... on the surface, he’d merely become this world’s Sun God.

Of course, because of his devouring, this world would inevitably go through a period of natural disasters, but it’d only last a few hundred years.

Humans wouldn’t be completely wiped out.

Completely unconcerned with what might happen if a world that was already on the brink of collapse suddenly had to endure a few hundred years of catastrophe, Amanata was full of resentment at Lansendel for stopping him.

He couldn’t understand why the Lord of Dawn would step in to stop him for the sake of another world.

Having not yet noticed anything special about this world, Amanata’s thoughts went straight off track: "Heh~ You think that by stopping me from regaining my strength, you can replace me and become the new Sun God?

Heh~

Lansendel! That’s delusional!

All these years, you’ve never succeeded; instead I was resurrected... and in the future, it’s even more impossible."

"Don’t fart!" Lansendel replied faintly. "After seeing you, who’d still want to be the next Sun?

What’ll you do if your brain gets burned out!"

This guy really has a good relationship with the Young Master!

Hill could practically hear that little Young Master throwing insults around with smug bravado.

"That was wonderfully said!" Celene’s attention was completely drawn over... her little head that had just been floating over there snarking at Cyric. "If only I could curse people that well too."

Hill opened his mouth, then quickly shut it again.

Celene and the Undead Tribe each have their own brand of absurdity; better not let them pile together.

Thankfully this Silvermoon Maiden only likes joining in the fun, not acting it out herself; otherwise, if she were to mix with the Undead Tribe like Lansendel and become one big family with them... Toril getting blown to bits would be perfectly normal.

After all, one dares to say it, the other dares to do it... the ones who dare to say it are the Undead Tribe.

Although Amanata has been drifting in the Stellar Realm all this time, in the past years the Toril people’s Curse toward him has never ceased.

Otherwise he wouldn’t still have a day of Resurrection even after his faith ended.

Although only a tiny handful of believers remained, his name would never become dust that history had long since brushed away.

For example, every time the Goddess of Magic was replaced, Toril would send him endless resentment.

But he had his pride too... even though he’d fallen for so many years, Toril still had only him as its one and only Sun.

So, facing the heartfelt contempt coming from Lansendel, Amanata flew into a rage: "Lansendel! I want you dead!"

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