“Hmm. Then, purist,” I said, “let me ask you this.”
Vade stared back at me without batting an eye. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact I had revealed his plans. He was just as childish as when we had first met.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Mr. Misfit? It’s to cull,” Vade said cheekily. “To cull all those who cannot fit in—who cannot conform—to this world. And after all the inadequate are wiped away, we, the chosen holo children, will remain.”
He puffed up his chest and clenched his fist with pride.
“Outside is where a bunch of inferior species live, right? That’s why I want to go there.”
“Go out there and do what?”
“Didn’t I just tell you? I’ll cull the weak humans, then the sly draconids underground, and finally, you and all your demon friends. And then I’ll be on top of the world! Aren’t I amazing?” Vade asked, with a near-brutal innocence. It was almost like he didn’t know what the word “cull” meant.
“What a fascinating thing to say,” I replied. “Where did you get this idea?”
“I was born with this knowledge. After all, I was born a purist!” Vade said, spreading his arms with a childish excitement. “You were right, mister. I was the one who stole the firedew. And I was the one who killed the gods.”
“Why?” Misha asked sadly.
Vade chuckled. “You’re the Goddess of Creation, Militia, right?”
He perceived her blinking response as an affirmative and continued, voice smug.
“Shall I spell it out for you? You were so worried about the cycle of life, but it was all working as intended. Life is to be culled! The decrease of firedew flow and the destruction of the gods are both natural. Only the few who conform can survive, gods or not. That’s how the world works.”
“That’s wrong,” Misha refuted shortly.
“Then why was I born?” Vade replied at once. “Because Mr. Misfit scrambled so frantically to protect peace, the lives that should have perished failed to do so, no? Thanks to that, order was disturbed, and I was born in the Divine Realm. So that I could quickly cull everyone.”
“I see. So that’s why you stole Delsgade and Everastanzetta,” I said.
“Yep, that was me. I’m going to cull the humans with Sarjieldenav’s Solar Eclipse of the End. Any survivors can just serve me.”
The Solar Eclipse of the End, huh? He must be referring to the total solar eclipse happening on earth right now.
“Stop messing around,” Sasha snapped. “Hurry up and give Sarjieldenav back. Before you regret it.”
“Just try me, old hag,” Vade shot back. “If you destroy me, you’ll never find Delsgade again, and the whole earth will be wiped out.”
Sasha faltered for a brief moment. In that one opening, Vade drew a magic circle.
“Coward. Get culled!”
Wind swirled fiercely.
“Itzelt Jischend.”
A fierce gale of lightning and sleet blew like a storm, flying straight for Sasha as though to cull her with this one blow.
“You...!”
She glared with the Magic Eyes of Destruction, but the Itzelt Jischend didn’t disappear. Misha made an ice shield with Iris, but that was easily pierced through as well.
Misha and Sasha were forced to leap to the side to evade the culling blast. The wind crashed loudly into the inner wall of the well, gouging a hole into it that seemed to go on forever.
“Don’t move, brat,” a low voice ordered.
The Withered Blade, Guzelami, was pointed at Vade’s neck. Anahem had broken out of the Behelius coffin.
“Pardon me. Due to current circumstances, I thought it best to release Anahem,” Dilfred explained. A spiral staff—Bostum, the Staff of Depth—was in his hand. He had used it to break Behelius.
It was no easy feat to destroy the coffin of impregnable darkness, but it made sense if he had used his Eyes to do so rather than brute strength. He must have stared into Behelius’s abyss with the Divine Eyes of Depth to find its weak point.
“You’ve been going on about culling for a while now, kid, but I’ve never heard of a purist before.”
The Flute of Change began to play. Gaetenaros had also been freed from the Goddess of Birth’s tree roots and had directed all his ire towards Vade.
“No matter what you call yourself, as one who has stolen firedew you are an existence against order. You are an enemy of the gods,” Wenzel declared, holding the Life Birthing Shield Avrohelian towards Vade.
“You’re all so stupid,” Vade said, laughing at the four gods surrounding him. He drew a magic circle in front of himself. “All of you exist so that I can exist, you know?”
The next moment, a coffin of darkness appeared behind Anahem. It was the Behelius spell I had just taught Vade.
“Fool,” Anahem spat. “Even the misfit had to surprise me with that from behind. Don’t think it can work against me from head-on—”
It was relatively simple to break through Behelius before the lid of the coffin shut. As someone who had been shut inside, Anahem had been able to see through the spell. And so, with the appearance of this new coffin, he used his physical and magical strength to crush the coffin.
But he couldn’t. He stopped as though his power had been sealed, and was swallowed by Behelius instantly.
“What?!” Anahem shouted.
The lid of the coffin shut, cursing Anahem to eternal death once again.
“Heh heh! I only just learned this spell, but I guess that means I’m better at it than the original! I really am the coolest!” Vade declared, beaming from ear to ear.
Dilfred, Gaetenaros, and Wenzel all stiffened.
“This is what they call the student surpassing the master, right?” he asked, looking at me smugly. “If Mr. Misfit is the strongest and a newborn like me surpassed him at his own magic, won’t I be really cool when I grow up?”
Vade held up an arm, with sparks of flames wrapped around his hand—firedew sparks.
“Well, I’m just a kid for now. Even Mr. Misfit might be able to beat a half-grown purist—so I’m still in trouble!”
Firedew wind blew from seemingly nowhere, gently wrapping around him. The wind carried dancing firedew leaves, which carried droplets of firedew water. Fire, water, wind, leaf—all of the firedew swirled around him, gradually getting absorbed into his body.
Sand started falling from overhead, followed by the ceiling suddenly caving in. No, it wasn’t only the ceiling—the ground, walls, and everything else was crumbling as well.
“Wh-What’s going on?!” Sasha yelled, her Magic Eyes darting around the place.
“The Withered Desert...is collapsing,” Misha mumbled. “The domain is unable to maintain itself without the firedew...”
Vade laughed smugly. “It’s not just the Withered Desert! The Celestial Canopy, Mother Sea, and Nature’s Keep are all the same! I’ve finally gathered enough firedew.”
The sparks, wind, leaves, and droplets covering Vade gradually revealed his new figure: long red hair, tall stature, and a solid build. Extravagant clothes, fit for royalty, wrapped around Vade’s new body, equivalent to a human male in the height of his youth, twenty years old or so.
“Ta-da! Crisis averted!” Vade said. “Bad luck, mister. I’ve grown up! Now your only chance of victory is gone.”
Vade moved his fingers and arms to test his new body, then turned to face Wenzel and the others. “I’ve no more use for the Four Principles. You’ll be culled alongside Da Qu Kadarte.”
The next moment, a small thorn flew towards him.
“Whoa!”
He easily grabbed the thorn between two fingers. They were Dilfred’s Abyssal Thorns.
“If you are destroyed, the order of the Round Garden of Principles can be restored,” the God of Depth said.
“It’s so simple! If the firedew was stolen, we just have to get it back,” the God of Change agreed.
“What are you saying? Anahem’s the strongest out of you four, no?” Vade asked with arrogant glee.
It was the Goddess of Birth who answered him.
“Individually, he is,” she said.
The God of Change, the Goddess of Birth, and the God of Depth all released divine magic power from their bodies. Vade stood ready to face them, stance relaxed and at ease, his wind-like magic swirling around him.
“All right, that’s fine with me,” he said. “Come. I, Vade the Purist, will cull every last one of you!”
The Magic Eyes of Destruction appeared in Sasha’s eyes, while the Magic Eyes of Creation did the same in Misha’s. Everyone’s magic power rose dramatically, filling the air of the well. The situation had hit its breaking point.
“Hmm. Sorry to interrupt,” I said.
The collective magic power in the well flickered. Everyone’s attention turned to me.
“Beating this lackey won’t stop Da Qu Kadarte from collapsing,” I said. “He’s just here to buy time.”
Dilfred’s gaze narrowed on me.
“Who are you calling a lackey, mister?” Vade said.
“Sorry, would you prefer guard dog?” I asked. “You went on and on about misfits and purists, but it’s the actual mastermind behind all this who conceived of that framework.”
Vade said nothing, arrogance unmoved by my words.
“You began to steal the firedew the moment I arrived in the Firmament of the Gods. But why didn’t you steal it earlier?” I said.
“I said I was newly born, didn’t I?” Vade replied.
“Wrong—you were hastily born,” I corrected. “You were created on short notice to deceive me.”
The air was filled with confusion. The first to speak was Dilfred.
“For the purpose of hiding something?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s right. To hide a tree, use a forest. To hide a human, use a city. So what were you trying to hide, Vade?”
Misha blinked twice and answered with a look of realization. “The missing firedew.”
“Exactly,” I answered. “The firedew was being stolen from the very beginning of the world. The order of destruction and creation are equal, yet despite being balanced, there was always more destruction in the world. That can only mean firedew was being stolen from Da Qu Kadarte, little by little, over a long period of time, without the Four Principles ever noticing.”
The Four Principles were probably incapable of detecting it. The Goddess of Creation and Goddess of Destruction had failed to notice as well. It was impossible for them, because gods were existences of order.
“But if I visited Da Qu Kadarte, I would eventually notice something was off. And to try to shake me off the trail, you started to steal the firedew openly.” Slowly, I pointed to the sky and said, “The world is headed to destruction, and you’re hiding the reason why.”