Hate me, Miss Witch!

The ancient god sealed beneath was still in the process of slowly awakening from Eternal Slumber. This awakening required a process.

If the Twilight Incarnation were to fully revive, then Norton, a mere 5-Ring consciousness, would naturally be overwhelmed without any power to fight back. But before that, he still had a little time left.

If he could find Silvia, the key, before the ancient god's full awakening, he could rely on the Divinity and Authority of the key to barely maintain his self. Then, he could wage a tug-of-war with the reviving ancient consciousness. This was Norton's last chance.

Moreover, finding Silvia also meant finding Shiayar.

Towards this rebellious pawn who had disrupted his plans time and again, even causing him to tumble from the clouds into dust by his own hands, Norton wanted nothing more than to flay Shiayar alive.

Norton's crimson eyes swept across the entire ruins.

But in the next moment, Norton suddenly froze.

Because he had expected Shiayar, after doing all this, to use his spatial abilities to quickly flee the scene. Capturing him would have then required considerable effort. Yet, at this moment, Shiayar was actually standing on an elevated rock not far away, watching him with silent eyes.

"You little bastard!"

"You actually didn't flee, you even dare to show yourself before me!"

The moment Norton saw Shiayar's figure, he could no longer contain his seething rage and resentment.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you!"

"I will leave you a breath of life, and then, right before your eyes, I will bit by bit devour Silvia's flesh."

"Letting you watch powerlessly as your beloved girl is consumed entirely, feeling that pain and despair slowly devour your body and soul..."

Norton's venomous curse was abruptly cut short before he could finish.

Because in the next instant, he saw Shiayar's pitch-black pupils, which had, unbeknownst to Norton, turned into a pure, molten gold, resembling flowing lava.

And in front of Shiayar, a scroll of pitch-black metal pages had appeared at some point.

That roll of metal pages suddenly unfurled in midair, emitting a clanging sound.

Then, on those metal pages that appeared to be crafted from black iron, a line of ancient, pale gold text was solemnly inscribed.

'Black King's Command—'

'Here, Deities are forbidden.'

In that moment, the pale gold Sovereignty Domain spread out.

Countless phantom chains emerged from The Void, crossing over and tightly locking Norton's mangled and twisted body.

All those chains were Red Gold, the embodiment of Sovereign rules.

This was Shiayar's 'Sovereignty Domain,' functioning in conjunction with the Judgment Warrant obtained from the Second Princess. The two fit together with an undeniable synergy that surpassed Shiayar's expectations.

Perhaps it was the edict forbidding Deities that resonated with the will of the Fresta Empire's first guardian, the Beast of Order—the Black King.

With the boost from the Judgment Warrant, the effects of Shiayar's Sovereignty Domain were enhanced, achieving a result greater than the sum of its parts.

"So that's how it is!"

"So that's how it is!"

Norton, pierced by those Red Gold chains, was still roaring in fury.

In the depths of Norton's Soul, the ancient consciousness seemed to detect the aura of a familiar adversary. The resulting emotional turbulence abruptly accelerated its awakening.

"Fresta's Legendary guardian beast, the first Black King!"

"I see now, you are a spy for the Fresta Empire, sent by Augustine II, aren't you?"

"The very Empire that prides itself as a 'realm without gods,' founded on iron and order, believing in human power to surpass Deities."

"Now, in the end, you can't restrain your curiosity and come to pry into the ancient god's Authority!"

"I've said it before, I'm just a hero for fun, without any grand identity or background."

"That Augustine II or whatever, I don't even know him; he's just an antique from history books."

Shiayar alighted gracefully from the pillar he had been standing on, looking down at Norton who was pierced by the countless chains of rules.

"Don't get the wrong idea. Otherwise, inadvertently making the Empire your enemy would be troublesome when Isadella comes to settle the score with me."

Shiayar's words were still very calm, "Oh, but it doesn't really matter if you misunderstand."

"After all, the dead can't make trouble."

Confronted with Shiayar's straightforward declaration of his death sentence, Norton's expression suddenly solidified.

Subsequently, his expression began to change rapidly.

Despair, madness, and the sense of struggle surged one after another.

After a moment, the expression on Norton's constantly distorting face finally stabilized.

And his frenzied, yellowish eyes also quietened a bit.

"You are very arrogant."

Even though his twisted body of flesh was still bound by the Red Gold chains of rules, Norton's words were no longer an impotent, furious rant. Instead, they carried a trace of ancient, profound tranquility.

Shiayar raised an eyebrow, "Twilight?"

He could feel that within this warped, patchwork monstrosity, the Soul of the ambitious charlatan had vanished.

What had taken its place was a deeper, more inscrutable, ancient existence that held all of Norton's memories.

"I have many names. Twilight is indeed one of the titles given to Me by mortal believers, derived from one of the Authorities I wield."

Norton—no, rather, the Twilight Incarnation that had taken over Norton's body—spoke again.

The voice was the same, yet it rang out like an ancient bronze bell, archaic and profound.