The executioner stood high upon the platform, his voice sharp and fierce as he read aloud the long list of Kolk’s crimes.
Below, the crowd surged like a restless tide, their voices buzzing with impatience. They had long grown tired of these tedious, overcomplicated charges. They didn’t want to hear any more of these meaningless formalities—all they wanted was to see Kolk’s head fall, to satisfy the burning hatred in their hearts.
And yet, at this very moment, Kolk’s mind was eerily calm.
Slowly, his gaze swept across the platform, weaving through the sea of faces until—at last—he found the familiar figure of Renith. A grin spread across his face, ragged and wild, touched with a hint of madness.
Suddenly, a group of armed students burst out from the alleys on either side, rushing forward with the clear intention of firing into the crowd. Their plan was obvious: they were trying to kidnap Kolk.
But the gangsters and workers had come prepared. These would-be rescuers never stood a chance. Without Renith even needing to lift a finger, they were swiftly overwhelmed and captured by gang members who outnumbered them ten to one.
Startled, the executioner steadied his racing heart and resumed reading Kolk’s sentence. The commotion in the crowd gradually died down, and order was restored.
Finally, after all the charges had been read, Kolk threw his head back and laughed aloud:
“I’ll remember every one of you! I’ll be back… Möbius City!”
With that, he closed his eyes.
Then, he was escorted onto the guillotine.
The executioner stood by, raising his blade high. The steel glinted in the light, reflecting his cold, merciless face. With a dull thud, the blade came slicing down toward Kolk’s neck.
But in that split second—at the very brink of death—Kolk jerked his head up. His eyes locked onto Renith’s position, met her gaze, and he whispered softly:
“I’ll be waiting for you in the Imperial City.”
The blade fell. Kolk’s head rolled to the ground, and crimson blood spilled across the platform, as though marking the end of it all.
In truth, Kolk wasn’t the only one executed that day. The chancellor of Möbius City University was also put to death. He had tried to defect on the night Kolk’s forces arrived, but by sheer bad luck, he ran straight into the gangsters. After some interrogation, they discovered he was the chancellor of Brand University.
Compared to Kolk, he was utterly ignored. The executioner, after finishing with Kolk, skipped the reading of charges entirely, brushed aside the chancellor’s feeble pleas for mercy, and brought the blade down in one clean stroke.
And so, the crowd below wept and embraced each other, celebrating this hard-won peace, pouring out all their pain and sorrow at once.
But Renith was lost in thought, turning over Kolk’s final words and expression in her mind.
He said he’d wait for her in the Imperial City. Could he truly come back from the dead and become her enemy once more?
It made sense, she supposed. These people were the so-called “strong ones” of the current continent—it would be strange if they didn’t have some ace up their sleeves. Even the demons of old had their share of individuals who could revive from a single drop of blood.
Still, she had to admit, his abilities were bizarre. If she ever faced him again, her current tricks might be completely useless.
Unless she could deepen her magic reserves enough to unlock powers beyond her current reach. Otherwise, things could get difficult.
Back at the agency, Renith found Antina and Vistad deep in discussion about the future.
She greeted them briefly, then retreated to her room to think about her next move.
She had decided to leave.
Möbius City was now in the hands of the resistance, the conflict was over, and she would continue her journey—until she had dealt with the remaining eight people Kolk had mentioned.
“I’m ready to go.”
She packed her things and informed Vistad and Antina. They immediately offered to see her off, eager to express their gratitude and respect.
But Renith declined.
She told them to focus their energy on rebuilding instead. Her departure didn’t need to be a grand affair.
After leaving them some scrolls and giving instructions on their use, she went to see Shubert and Lance.
She tore a few battle techniques from a cultivation manual and handed them to Shubert.
“Your talent won’t let these go to waste. Train hard—you’re destined for great things.”
As for Lance, she stuffed him with all the proper books Heldis had bought from the system, saying:
“You’ve got a sharp mind. I’m sure you’ll make good use of them.”
“May your spark keep burning. I won’t stop moving forward—I hope you stay true to yourselves and catch up in time.”
She said similar words to everyone she bid farewell to.
After saying her goodbyes, Renith planned to take a train out of the city.
But when she reached the station, she found that Kolk had destroyed the tracks leading north. Shaking her head in resignation, she borrowed a few barrels of diesel, hopped on a motorcycle she’d pulled from the Codex Space, and hit the road.
At least Nosask had taught her well—and she’d learned well too.
——–
Meanwhile, the executioner who had cut off Kolk’s head was disposing of the body.
Without a trace of mercy, he dumped it into a remote, forgotten hole in the ground, spat on it with contempt, and walked away as if shaking off bad luck.
He had barely left when a figure landed beside the makeshift grave. They reached out to dig it up—but a second figure arrived just in time to stop them.
“You should give me the body,” said the first, coldly.
“Give it to me instead…”
The second didn’t back down, rubbing the golden ring on his index finger with two fingers, a flicker of surprise in his eyes—he seemed to recognize the other. Meanwhile, the first person calmly smoothed the chains dangling in front of his face, his expression as placid as still water.
“What use do you have for him? Kolk’s ‘Divine Gift’ is far too unique. Even if you clone and recreate him, you can’t preserve that Gift.”
“And yet, what I create will be human—not the monstrosities you cobble together!” the other shot back.
With that, he summoned two faceless figures, utterly devoid of life, and ordered them to start digging up Kolk’s grave.
“But what I create will be stronger than yours. They’ll have their own consciousness, wield their own Gifts, and with absolute confidence… they’ll reach for the realm of the divine.”
The second speaker seemed swayed. He commanded his summoned figures to stop.
“But you’re only a Viscount. Your power has its limits—how could you possibly know what a true god is?”
As he spoke, he dropped all pretense, letting his aura burst forth unchecked.
A faint violet radiance spread outward, and the overwhelming pressure of a divine being enveloped them both. It bore down like a mountain, suffocating and immense.
“What can I say, O Divine Envoy? Your might is truly awe-inspiring.”
The other offered a slight bow before continuing:
“The Divine One has bestowed countless ‘Gifts,’ but only seven are special. As creations of the Divine, their origin isn’t born of sin—but of obsession.
Their obsessions grow stronger over time, and that is what paves their path to godhood… When an outsider god steps into the divine domain, all resistance in this world will crumble like empty bubbles.
The stronger the obsession, the greater their power. And I just so happen to be able to make them chase nothing but that obsession.”
Just then, a colossal figure descended from above—a massive creature stitched together from hundreds of human heads. Each head wore a different expression: some in agony, some enraged, some terrified… The monster muttered ceaselessly:
“Promotion, rank up…”
“My child… my child…”
“Lord Kolk…”
Even the Divine Envoy was startled by the ceaseless murmuring of those hundred heads. But he quickly composed himself and regained his composure.
“To develop a ‘Divine Gift’ to this extent… you’re quite the character. Perhaps you should be the Divine Envoy, not me.”
The other chuckled and looked at the Envoy:
“How would I dare! Your power is vast and profound—anyone with sense knows I’m in no position to challenge you.”
The flattery seemed to please the Divine Envoy. He stepped aside and yielded Kolk’s body, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
“I look forward to your creation.”
The other made no attempt to hide his work, ordering the monster behind him to dig Kolk out. He glanced at the Envoy and asked:
“Oh, what do you think of that mage?”
“Decent strength, but she relies solely on racial advantages. She poses no real threat to us.”
The Envoy said dismissively, waving a hand. His tone was full of contempt—in his eyes, Renith was insignificant. He reached out toward the northern sky and clenched his fist, feeling the demonic mana filling his palm.
“Mages advance slowly. Fastest is ten years, slowest fifty. By the time she ranks up, we’ll have already won.
Let her kill if she wants… Even if she kills every single Transmigrator, she can’t change the fact that this old world is fading. Besides—she can’t kill them all.
Demons… a fallen race. The dregs of the dregs in a dying world. They should have gone extinct long ago.”
As they spoke, Kolk’s body was unearthed. The other man turned and left without a backward glance, leaving the Divine Envoy standing alone.
He toyed with the golden ring on his finger and shook his head:
“Decent strength—too bad he has two heads. No matter how powerful a creation is, without the ability to control it, it will only turn on its creator. Still… I truly am looking forward to your work. That world-ending masterpiece of yours.”
The Big Boss stood before a map, his gaze as sharp and predatory as a hawk’s, fixed intently on Möbius City.
A soldier rushed into the room with news:
“I saw that mage leave!”
The Big Boss nodded in acknowledgment and waved a hand:
“I see. It’s time, then.
Different paths, different goals… Now that the enemy is gone, it’s time to complete my grand design.”
With that, he slammed his palm down on Möbius City on the map, as if trying to crush it within his grasp.
