"You shall temporarily become my messenger in the mortal world and convey my will completely to my believers."
As soon as Noah finished speaking, three objects appeared before Lola's eyes: a stone tablet, a scepter, and a seed from the Kabbalah.
These three items represented his will—the will of Teyvat.
What is good, what is evil—the people of Teyvat had already set the standard, and so the people of this world should follow the same path.
The Teyvat Great World was his perfect ideal world, where good and evil were both clearly defined and publicly manifested.
The stone tablet was the Book of Good and Evil, used to judge morality and punish accordingly based on the magnitude of one's sin.
The scepter and the seed of the Kabbalah symbolized his power.
Though with a single thought he could reshape the entire world to his will, that would be too boring—every event in creation must have its necessary process, even if the ultimate outcome remained unchanged.
These three items were the embodiment of a fragment of Truth itself—in the world of Teyvat, each would be considered a Divine Artifact of the Primeval Gods.
Each represented the pinnacle of an entire cultivation system.
If we compared power alone, the gods could be considered to have reached the Primeval God level of Teyvat.
However, that was merely an inflated comparison—just because a lead ball and a balloon are of the same size, can you say they weigh the same?
After the fusion of the Magical Index world, the gods at best would reach the high-tier Supergod.
Still, their ascension to the rank of Primeval God would not be difficult, since they had indeed reached the peak of the magic cultivation system.
What remained was only to enhance the quality of their power.
To accumulate that quality and reach the level of a Primeval God would take an immense amount of time—at least a million years.
Thus, before these three Primeval Divine Artifacts, even the gods could do nothing.
To resist them would be like striking a needle with tofu—it would only result in being pierced through.
As Lola looked at the three Primeval Divine Artifacts resting in her hands, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest, her cheeks flushed crimson.
I—I've not only been touched by the holy body of God but have been bestowed with three Primeval Divine Artifacts imbued with divine power!
As a Great Demon, she was on the verge of fainting from bliss.
Though both angels and demons served as the servants of God,
the angels were the favored ones, while demons were the forsaken children—beaten or erased whenever they displeased Him.
O Lord! Even a Great Demon can be blessed one day!
"Yes! My Supreme God, I shall fulfill Your divine command without fail!"
Lola clutched the scepter and tablet in her arms while holding the Kabbalah seed tightly in her hand.
At this moment, this Great Demon appeared no different from a holy angel.
"Once you complete your mission, you will be free to enter and leave my Eden, Stuart."
Noah nodded in satisfaction. Who said Great Demons were inherently evil? This obedient and humble figure—prostrating herself before him, life and death entirely at his mercy—wasn't that a most endearing sight?
He admired the perfect proportions of her golden form—soft and sinful, a body poised between maiden and temptress.
Hm~ perhaps once she completes her task, rewarding her a little wouldn't be a bad idea.
As for status? She needn't even dream of it. To be granted entry to Eden on a whim was already the greatest of blessings.
He was no longer that young man who once felt compelled to seize every beautiful goddess he saw.
After all, whatever he desired would inevitably come to him in time.
Lola was nearly fainting with excitement. "Yes!"
Eden! The Garden of Eden!
The dwelling place of God, the sacred garden, the eternal domain of the multiverse—the point of all origins, the Temple of Truth itself.
Across the vast multiverse, apart from angels, only a few goddesses with the power to create universes could ever enter it.
Noah's figure slowly faded from her sight, yet the fervor within her heart burned ever stronger.
Her flushed face brushed lightly against the divine scepter in her hands.
"I must be the only one in this world so dearly beloved by God!"
She had received an immeasurable flood of information from the Teyvat Multiverse.
Lola understood the hierarchy of gods. Yet, in her eyes, those so-called deities were merely powerful beings cloaked in the title of divinity.
Only the God of her Cross Church—the Heavenly Principle, the Creator of all within the Teyvat Multiverse—was the one and only true God.
Now that she possessed the three Primeval Divine Artifacts, she wielded the power of a true God—not the mere magical constructs of the Church.
Those magicians who bore the title of Magic Gods were, at best, high-tier Supergods.
Lola no longer placed them in her eyes.
God truly existed. She was a demon with divine backing—not some stray being that any so-called god or magician could intimidate.
After regaining her composure, her expression grew calm yet laced with a trace of amusement.
"The Cross Church… all believe in God, yet because of forged doctrines and false scriptures, they have split into so many sects. Those who spread false interpretations of God's will must all be judged."
This was the true will of God—greatness, mercy, compassion. God loved all humanity, and so too must angels and demons love mankind.
All existence was born from God's creation—there were never any true heretics.
To call the unbelievers heretics? In truth, it was merely the deception of the religious elite, using faith for their own gain.
According to the will of God, seventy percent of the high-ranking members across all sects of the Cross Church were to be cast into the Abyss.
Not because they were sinful, but because their sins had reached a level that hindered the progress of civilization itself.
"How detestable!" Lola's eyes flared with killing intent. Her golden hair, like a masterpiece of art, cascaded freely, and within its flowing strands, the visage of a demonic face formed from countless stars.
Hum~
The power of the Kabbalah seed instantly reversed her demonic essence, transforming her into an angel.
The starlit demon face behind her vanished, replaced by a pair of golden angelic wings that spread wide, with a magnificent golden halo shining above her head.
Angels and demons could transform into one another—such was the nature of the Kabbalah.
"How far has the Cross Church twisted the will of God?"
"To the point of becoming the very obstacle to the advancement of civilization?"
"It is time to commence the Great Judgment upon this sin-ridden faith."
...
Noah was not surprised by what Lola intended to do. Both angels and demons absolutely obeyed the will of God.
To be honest, in Noah's eyes, the religions of this world had long since rotted to their very roots.
Nowadays, all those bishops and archbishops were nothing more than members of powerful religious families, monopolizing divine authority. Most of these so-called religious elites didn't even believe in God—they merely used Him as an excuse for all their evil deeds.
As long as everything could be blamed on God's will, they were absolved of sin. "It was all God's decree."
The Church claimed to take in abandoned children out of compassion—but in truth, it was nothing more than a means to raise brainwashed assassins for its own purposes. The so-called Holy Inquisition that "purged the world's sins in the name of God" merely trained executioners.
Among the three great branches of the Cross Church, only the Church of England was slightly better.
The Church of England did not wield absolute authority over faith like the other two sects.
Though it was called a Church, it functioned more like an administrative division of the Kingdom of England.
The Supreme Leader of the Church of England was the Queen of England herself. Thus, Lola, as the Archbishop, merely acted as the highest clerical authority in the Queen's absence—responsible for handling religious affairs on her behalf.
Under national supervision, Puritanism was considered the cleanest among the three.
Absolute power, however, breeds absolute corruption. The upper echelons of both the Roman Orthodox and Amakusa Churches—save for their respective Popes—had already decayed beyond repair.
As a result, the Roman and Amakusa Churches were now controlled by hereditary religious aristocrats who monopolized the right to interpret the Holy Scripture, twisting its words at will to deceive and manipulate over three billion believers worldwide.
Yet, while the higher clergy were hopelessly corrupt, the Pope himself remained an honest man—a true believer who followed God with sincerity.
Noah, however, cared little for the magical side.
The three major religions represented half the total strength of the magical world—the largest collective force.
And nine-tenths of the conflicts between the magical side and the scientific side stemmed from the Cross Church and Academy City.
As for the Right Hand of God? That man wasn't evil. He merely sought to solve the world's existing problems and restore humanity to its proper path.
However, his methods were far too radical. For that reason, Noah had temporarily sealed away the power of his Right Hand, allowing him to reflect. Once he came to truly understand the nature of truth, goodness, and beauty, his strength would gradually return.
After receiving the divine command, Lola immediately departed St. George's Cathedral and hurried straight toward Buckingham Palace.
She was about to act in the name of God Himself—to commence a divine judgment upon all religious figures across the world.
...
Meanwhile, at the farthest edge of the universe—where no matter existed—there was only the ever-thickening, incomprehensible, and unyielding layer of rules.
Countless overlapping phases intertwined here. Infinite mythological laws flowed outward from this boundary toward the inner layers of existence.
Even the slightest fluctuation in these mythic phases could alter the entire fabric of reality.
At the deepest point of these layers existed a realm of incomparable strength—so powerful that even a mythic phase appeared as fragile as a leaf by comparison.
Beyond this phase lay the opposite side of the world itself.
The world, in truth, was a perfect ring—no matter how far one traveled, one would always return to the point of origin.
Only magicians who had reached the realm of divinity knew this truth.
This outermost layer of existence—the threshold that, with one step, could lead to the other side of reality—was called by those divine magicians the Hidden Realm.
It was, quite literally, the place where they resided in seclusion.
They all existed here—though separated by infinite distances on the level of laws, in terms of consciousness, they were as close as a whisper.
"Everyone seems shaken," said one voice. "You all felt it too, didn't you? The world itself has been disturbed by an unknown power. That force—it made even me feel a chill down my spine, a thorn in my throat."
"Hah! Nuada, you've grown weak. The sharpest blade trembling in fear? Hahaha!"
"Enough, Niang-Niang! I've told you countless times—your shrill voice is intolerable!"
"What did you say, Tezcatlipoca? Do you want to see what treasures lie within my sleeves?"
"Tch, as if we haven't fought before. When have you ever beaten me?"
"Tch, and when have you ever defeated me?"
"Hehehe… my fellow kin, how many years have we quarreled like this? We are all the same—no one can ever truly defeat the other. Why not sit and listen to me chant a sutra?"
"Hey! High Priest, you'd better not start chanting again! If you do, I'll throw you out myself!"
"Nephthys, I've said it before—we are equals. None among us can overpower another."
"But tell me, did we awaken just to argue again? Wasn't there a disturbance at the Source—some force powerful enough to threaten even us?"
From the void emerged a skeletal monk, wrapped in crimson-purple robes. His body was so thin it seemed as though his bones might crumble at any moment. Leaning on a crooked staff, he spoke in a voice heavy with ancient weariness.
"We dwell in seclusion precisely because even the slightest release of our thoughts—or a trace of our power—could alter the current world. That is why we retreated here."
"Only the emergence of a Magic God could cause a disturbance strong enough to reach us—to awaken us."
"So far, such a thing has happened only twice. Hehehe."
A girl with ashen purple skin like that of a corpse appeared, seated cross-legged in the void. She wore a white ceremonial robe resembling a qipao and a Qing dynasty talisman hat upon her head. Between her fingers, she twirled a yellow charm paper, her tone cheerful yet carrying a chilling undertone of death.
"Hehehehehe… The first time was because of that magician obsessed with god-slaying—Edward Alexander."
"At first, I thought he had potential—he could have become one of us."
"What a pity, such a pity… he seems to have died at the hands of the Cross Church. I was looking forward to playing with that delightful little toy a bit longer."
Another figure appeared—a woman wrapped in bandages, her exquisite face adorned with twin teardrop moles beneath her eyes. Her golden-blue heterochromatic gaze gleamed like that of a Persian cat. With tanned skin and a languid stretch, she looked as though she had just awoken from a long slumber, a faint trace of regret on her lips.
"The second time was that poor fool, Orellius. He too could have become one of us."
"But Othinus interfered—stole away his chance to ascend into godhood. Thus, he became stuck mid-transcendence, forever a quasi-Magic God."
The woman chuckled, spreading her hands—not in sorrow, but amusement.
"Hehe~ After all, Othinus didn't wish for another magician to ascend and reshape the world again."
"I truly wonder what Othinus is thinking."
With interest and curiosity, Nephthys asked, "Hey, Othinus—you must have heard us. Just what are you planning this time?"
Before her words fully faded, a young girl appeared before them—no older than thirteen or fourteen.
Her long, wavy golden hair shimmered faintly, and her eyes glowed emerald green, though her right eye was covered by a black eyepatch.
Upon her head sat a pointed witch's hat—red beneath, black above. Her expression was utterly indifferent, as if she had no interest in anything at all.
Even before her fellow gods, there lingered in her gaze a subtle, unspoken disdain.
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