Cytortia thread into an open-air roof of a storage warehouse far from everyone. She needed every bit of courage for her duty. It was the center of the Wind-quarter. At such heights, she saw everything. The smokes and fires illuminating the eldritch night sky. The massive molten crater in the Water-quarter, the war-zone of the Earth-quarter, and the massive ruin that used to be the Fire-quarter. Cytortia could hear the army closing in and caught several flashes of colorful firework underlying the battle fought. The Heavenly Daughter of Wood took one last looked at the Central palace cladded in darkness and unleashed her resolve.
Suddenly, the door to the roof flung open.
Hikma hobbled to her with aid from Madam Marmel’s shoulder. What a stubborn idiot.
“Cy, is this Rem plan?” Hikma asked.
“Try higher.”
“Satholia wouldn’t want this.”
“She hinted this from the start. It is inevitable and Satholia know it.”
The Madam cut in.
“My, my, I am still funding your defense operation. Shouldn’t I know what are you doing?”
Cytortia cusped her hand on her chest. An emerald glow emerged. A leaf-green spherical crystal-perfectly cut and smooth like pearls solidified in her hands. That orb guided the night, barren of hope, like the ever-distant North Star.
“A god’s [Divine Core],” Madam Marmel whispered revelry. “Legend say the Ancient copied it to create the mage’s Mana Core and use that knowledge pioneer the path toward spell-casting and Mana utilization. It is an inherent trait belonging to the gods. A perfect crystallization of Mana that allowed to master any spells and craft as prodigal speed, granting them longevity surpassing even the elf and stimulated their stats beyond ordinary by linking them with elemental Mana. It is a condensation of all their potential pack into a gem.”
Cytortia nodded. The one crystal she held mark her as the member of the most powerful race in Phantasia. Her affinity with wood, healing mastery, the immense divine reserve of Mana [Divinity], the special property of her cell [Goddess Origin], even her ability to communicate with animal — they all originated from this core. It represented her potential as a Heavenly Daughter of Wood and her biological superiority over 99% of the planet.
“Isn’t that crystal unremovable?” The Madam said. “[Divine Core] has automatic defense and cannot separate from its owner, unless by god-killer level weapons. Cytortia, what are you planning to do?”
“Lost Divine,” Hikma remembered that Arcane. It was one Arcane where no amount of [Conceptual Seal] can access, because for one honest reason.
Hikma De Darwin was a human — the most humbled yet proudest sentient race in the multiverse. His life was already a struggle. He did not need to learn vulnerability and mortality.
Lost Divine is a power to teach humility to the god. An acceptance that perfection and superiority did not gift one with wisdom or leadership. In a certain sense, it was an Arcane only performable by the immortal who finally realized the utter pointlessness of invincibility and beseeched the world to become something more.
“Cy, are you sure about this,” Hikma gulped. “You can’t go back.”
Cytortia let out a nervous laugh and waved the crystal summing up her existence for the two to see.
“Too late, I already perform the first part,” Cytortia tried to cheer herself up. “There is no going back now.”
Unlike the two, the Madam did not understand about the monumental earth-shattering bomb ticking to detonation.
“What are you two talking about?” The Madam said. “Boy, what is Cytortia planning to do.”
“She is going to break it.”
“What?”
“Lost Divine is an Arcane which a god sacrifices their Divine Core to get the audience to learn wisdom from the World,” Hikma explained. “They traded thier immortality and divinity to struggle as a member mankind and thus passing their trail for a Legend.”
The Madam took an entire second to absorb the information
She looked at Cytortia. The moment the gravity registered.
“You mean you are trading away everything for… a lesson.”
The gem in Cytortia’s hand cracked.
“Not a lesson,” Cytortia explained. “I am a terrible learner anyway, but it is fine to be imperfect. True Magic is a poetic mockery of the gods from the World. The mortal appreciates the simple joy of living to the fullest because they know their life will end. Just like how falling sakura petal paints the unique path in the world. However, the closer you approach to immortality, the more such beauty elude you. Reality snicker at our divinity and used them to chain us from becoming more. Evolution gave god’s [Divine Core] as a proof of their closeness to the natural order and their hopeless distance from human’s strife and pride.”
“And a proud heart of humanity stimulates True Magic,” Hikma hit a realization. “That is the reason your stat didn’t rise at all. Gods had horrible affinities with True Magic because of their distance to humanity.”
The [Divine Core] cracked further.
“Bingo, I realize this a month ago. Luxinna’s trail required her to accept herself as a move closer to humanity. But mine is far worse, it requires a sacrifice — an end to this gem I have since birth and the death of the Heavenly Daughter of Wood.”
“The end?” The Madam said.
Cytortia gazed at the breaking core with tears of doubt in her eyes.
“The moment this thing shatters my ability as goddess will vanish. My Stats will sink. All my skills with few exceptions will evaporate. I will become a mere shadow of a goddess — a nature spirit even weaker than average human. The 33 Stars will have to find someone to fill my ranks because I will drop from the radar completely. Since every proof of my life tied directly to this core or my [Goddess Origin] — my life’s signal in Master’s and aunty Artio’s hall will go out. Everyone outside will think I’m dead.”
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The Madam got no sentence to placate the goddess. Throughout her neglected life, the only belonging Cytortia had in her asset column was that [Divine Core] — losing even that must be unimaginable.
“Cytortia, are you fine with this?”
Cytortia’s core was now an orb of spiderweb.
“Fine? Not at all,” Cytortia tried to put on a brave smile, but her teary eyes betrayed everything. “I am about to blow up a part of myself. I am not okay, but I will hesitate no more. I have to thank you for that, Madam.”
“Me?” It was an excruciating long time since someone confused Marmel. “Why?”
The emerald pearl in the Goddess’ hand creaked.
“Remember, when you tell Shyme to quit the 33 Stars. I think sentence fits me more. Like the position as a Heaven Daughter, this Core is something I grow out,” Cytortia gazed into the stone, hyping herself up. “A child must venture from home someday and find something to belong too other than her childhood. My life is no longer define by this orb alone.”
Cytortia crushed into her [Divine Core], crumbling it to dust.
“Who need divinity when I got you guys!”
Brilliant light enveloped the roof, and for an instance the darkness broke.
The light was faint, but it was enough to tip the scale of destiny.
…
Orwell Mehest was in a room inside his Spiritium tower.
Wayward stood amongst the azure fire. Amalgam and patterned of Spiritium ink painted his body. Orwell observed the ritual from the edge of the fiery pit, scribed with runes and symbols. Statues of skeleton dotted the pool fires like a judge watching Wayward.
“I must warn you, this experiment is purely theoretical,” Orwell said.
Wayward didn’t bulk.
“I give you Stuart Hex,” Wayward said. “It is your turn to live up to the end of your bargain.”
“Very well,” Orwell waved his staff as the Amalgam surged into Wayward’s body. It was modification ritual theorized in the Achieve of the Deathless. This ritual would imbue the cultivator’s Mana with artificial soul and changed their body to optimize it. Orwell expected the increased in his stats would bring Wayward to S-ranks.
Then he saw the light from the Wind-quarter — an immensely strange Mana pulsating in the air. Orwell instantly reached the inevitable conclusion. His certain victory was in doubt.
Orwell Mehest cursed. What with the timing? He just let the nobles walk the plank into a hostile Fire-quarter, and now Wayward about to break S-rank and teleported out of Venistalis’ board-game. The most powerful piece is leaving, while an unknown variable entered the equation.
The 33 Stars regcognized a reversal when he saw it.
…
In the Wind-quarter, Rem ordered his troop to salute.
His friend broke the world most precious egg. Now it was his duty to make it the greatest omelette of victory in all mankind.
…
In Tengen Continent, the Iron Army marched to secure to pacify their turbulent territory in Starland. Out of nowhere, Tai Hua Tianshang noticed something breaking in her Storage ring. She hurried and took out the fractured jade tablet.
“No way,” Tai Hua gasped. “But… who would dare?”
Next to her, Kar’dia Tianshang trembled at the sight of a similar broken tablet in her hand. Each Heavenly Daughter had those tablets with them, signaling the current state of their sister-in-training. Just now the tablet for their youngest sister shattered.
“Tai Hua, what happens!?” One of her A-rank commanders rushed to Tai Hua.
“Cytortia is dead,” Tai Hua’s hallowed voice rang. The Heavenly Daughter of Steel was lost in a haze of regret.
“What!?” A female commander glanced at her in an expression of bewilderment. “That weakling kicks the bucket already? Shit! I bet she will kick herself to afterlife much later. Fuck the betting ring!”
“Shut. Up.”
Tai Hua’s glare shoved the girl’s word back into her throat.
“Double the marching speed!” Tai Hua order her troops. “If I hear one more person snicker about the dead, I will treat it as a class-2 offense!”
The commander watched Tai Hua left in a hurry.
“How? I think they hate each other?”
Kar’Dia put her hand on the commander’s shoulder.
“Those two might fight many times, but part of Tai Hua find Cy’s innocence and charity endearing,” Kar’Dia explained longingly. “Tai is terrible at showing her kinder side, but she puts Cytortia as a model Alchemist for her community spirit. Tai Hua cares about Cy deep down — like an ocean-floor deep.”
Kar’Dia shed some tears at the tablet. At least, her junior sister — the pacifist of the five — could rest peacefully, but imagining that bitch’s laughter was enough to irk her.
They need to punch LinLey at the funeral. They still owed Cy that debt.
…
“Wa, ha, ha, ha, ha,” LinLey Tianshang — that bitch — laughed her ass off at the broken tablet. She swiped the tablet to the bin, giggling like a spoil brat. “You finally done it, you dolt. I guess the way you go must be as pathetic as the way you live, naïve little idiot. Oh well, at least your death is useful.”
LinLey yelled out to her servant.
“Prepare my mourning dress. Cytortia’s funeral will have an important guest. I need to make a good impression. It is not every day you get an open recruitment season for talented Alchemists!”
…
In the hall of ancient redwood, a beautiful black-hair woman looked as a light faded from one out of five steles decorating her walls. She sighed. It was a shame it ended like this. She blessed the girl and hoped that one day she would defy the insult heaped in her name. Nu Wa wished Cytortia’s potential would astonish the entire Phantasia and earned her place among her sisters.
Sadly, reality was cruel. The girl lacked the decisiveness and ruthlessness to succeed. Nu Wa’s worst fear born the moment she accepted the innocent goddess finally realized. Her student refused to change and overcome her weakness—remaining kind even in such cruel reality.
What a shame.
…
In Artio’s palace, a similar stele turned dark.
The assistant next to Artio blinked—eyes widened with worry.
“Lady Artio! Is Lady Cytortia…”
The bear’s word was gentle and sublime.
“Do you believe she died?” Artio asked. Her faith never waver.
The assistant shook her head.
“She is still out there,” Artio assured. “This isn’t over yet. She will rise stronger than ever — I can sense it.”
…
Cytortia found herself in the plain of white sky and green grass. She gazed to the broken skies and shards of the cosmos raining down like fractured glasses.
Then he appeared.
An Asian man in a suit and tie walked down, untouched by the grasses and winds imposing on this reality. He reached out his hands and help her up.
Cytortia stared at him and nearly dropped back to the floor again. For the first time, coldness and exhaustion grabbed her. Her legs were about to give out. Her breathing ragged. Her vision blurred. She could no longer touch her connection with the plant-life, nor the warmth of earth. Cytortia felt alone and helpless. The unknown feeling of powerlessness gripped her. What was this feeling?
“That was the fear of uncertainty. The vulnerability of having nothing to lean on and no favor from nature to aid you,” the Asian man described. “What you are experiencing is the core essence of mankind — pain and suffering.”
Cytortia laughed.
This was what Rem and Hikma endured all their existence. Unbelievable. What strength did they draw to fight this bitter loneliness? How unimaginably powerful humanity must be to shrug away such horror with no extra aid from Mana.
“It is why humanity possesses the potential of Will Over Heaven,” the Asian man answered the question in her head. “They marched tall and proud without aid of Mana and grew out of your pity. They have no need for Legend because their cycle of overcoming pain is already an unbelievable Legend. Because they overcome this pain, their potential in True Magic surpassed all.”
“What are you talking about? Who are you?”
The Asian man huffed.
“To answer my question, I am imparting you the wisdom of Satholia’s creation. I am an embodiment of the multiverse’s balance. The creator of the trails stopping the unworthy from grasping the power to defy the multiverse. I am the seal preventing the mighty from attaining power beyond thier possesion. I am the WORLD.”
The WORLD continued.
“Oh, child of nature who rid yourself of your godly ignorance, you attain the right to receive my guidance. Ask and I shall answer your query.”
,,,
Cytortia [Broken God] stats:
Cytortia
Stat
STR: 20 [E]
END: 50 [E]
MAG: 100 [E]
WIS: 50 [E]
DEX: 15 [E]
Skill
Active
Sage Force (Merged) [S]
Alchemy [S]
Passive