Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End

Chapter 560.2: Unquenchable Fury (2)

The Black Moon symbolized divine retribution for the sinners. Wherever the moonlight reached, all souls fell into a daze. The Mother Goddess was assessing them to discern their sins. Nothing could evade the reach of the Black Moon.

All of the deceased spirits, be it those that had hidden under the cover of the night or those that had secretly possessed a body, immediately fled in a panic. They knew that the supreme being in the sky had Her eyes locked on them, and divine retribution was about to descend.

“Don’t think that it’ll end with just death…” the white-haired woman murmured with overflowing animosity as She raised Her hand toward the Black Moon.

Countless arms made out of a viscous black fluid surged out of the Black Moon, whizzing across the sky to capture the countless deceased spirits that comprised the Death God.

Not a single deceased spirit could evade the black arms, whether they were hiding in the corner of the forest or amidst the dark clouds. Some deceased spirits had reached the territory of the evil gods, but the evil gods and the demonic beasts simply silently watched as the black hands intruded on their turf.

Even the unruliest evil god had enough sense to not challenge the rampaging Mother Goddess. Similarly, the demonic beasts obeyed their instincts and lay low.

No one would stand up for the Death God.

“Wait! Spare me! No… No!!!”

Death God Pritzer screamed in terror before the relentless pursuit of the countless black hands. He desperately pleaded for mercy, but his begging hardly placated the Mother Goddess at all. It took mere seconds for his ten thousand deceased spirits to be captured by the black hands, upon which they were simultaneously dragged into the Black Moon.

.

Sizzling sounds echoed as the Death God’s deceased spirits corroded inside the Black Moon. Wretched wails shook the sky. This execution lasted for a long while before all of the deceased spirits were finally devoured by the Black Moon.

The brutal execution of a god rattled the hearts of the spectators below.

The worshipers of the Mother Goddess tightly clasped their trembling hands and fervently prayed. In the Moonsoul Tower, the race leaders who had rushed back watched the ruins around them with pale faces, but they dared not utter a word.

…

The Moonsoul Tower was reputed to be a miraculous creation that served as one of Sia’s main divine temples in this vast world. Legends had it that the Genesis Goddess had felt lonely while gazing at the night moon, so She created the nocturnal races.

The gently glowing tower became a sacred building to the nocturnal races, and many of them decided to settle down in its vicinity. Yet, this sacred building had received unprecedented damage today.

The Moonsoul Tower’s barrier that no god could breach was shredded by the Mother Goddess as if it was thinner than a sheet of paper. Even the tower itself, despite having been blessed by countless gods, had cracked under Her rampage.

Yet, the Mother Goddess’ wrath did not abate.

Under the Blood Moon, the silver-haired woman trembled with Roel in Her arms. Her clothes were stained with his blood, but She didn’t loosen Her embrace in the least.

Several guards stood around the perimeter of the ruins in deathly silence.

They knew that they deserved death for failing to ensure Roel’s safety, but the situation had already gone beyond just that. At this rate, the Moonsoul Tower and even the cities surrounding it could very well be erased from the face of the world.

The price of the Mother Goddess’ rampage was too great for the world to bear.

The Mother Goddess was not known to be a benevolent being. She was first and foremost a ruler, and there were responsibilities She had to fulfill. She maintained order amongst the races through reward and punishment, and there were occasions when She raged too.

But never before had She lost control of Her emotions like this.

The more powerful an existence, the more dangerous their anger was. The wrath of a supreme being like the Mother Goddess was a calamity in itself.

The frightened populace fell into pandemonium.

Amidst the ruins, the Mother Goddess gazed at the youth in Her arms as She tried wiping the blood off his face again and again. She had never thought that She would lose control like this, as She had already become accustomed to the death of Her children.

Putting aside wars, there were countless lives that naturally withered from old age every day.

The Kingmaker was a special existence to Her. That was the child She had spent the most time with over the long years. Much time flowed by, but the Kingmaker Clan continued to stay by Her side. No matter how fair She was, it was inevitable that She favored them over the others.

But that should have been all there was to it.

Deep down, the Mother Goddess knew that the Kingmaker didn’t see Her as his mother, similar to most people in the world. She was painfully aware that Her identity as a mother had eroded away as Her other personas took precedence.

The High Elves who had sworn fealty to Her saw Her as their ruler. Her people worshiped Her as an almighty god. The powerful races that had chosen to side with the Savior viewed Her as their greatest enemy.

How tragic it was that She continued to view them as Her children, but none of them thought of Her as their mother.

Truth be told, the Mother Goddess had already given up hope. She had hardened Her heart to cast away Her identity as a mother. That was the only way She could bring Herself to step onto the battlefield and unleash death upon those who had turned against Her.

Yet, the Kingmaker who had pushed Her away time and time again suddenly changed.

Something rippled in Her heart when She saw confusion instead of self-entitlement in Roel’s eyes when She decided to spare his life. There was a probing glimmer in his eyes, a sign that he was searching for the connection that used to exist between them. It sparked hope in Her, causing Her to continuously soften Her attitude toward him.

That day, in the audience room, when Roel was conscience-stricken from lying, She felt a tinge of maternal love that made Her feel like She ought to do something, but She was afraid that Her proactiveness would scare him off. In the end, She decided to leave him in the safest place.

From the very start, She had never thought that Roel would betray Her.

Who could have thought that the enemy would have seen through Her? Her decision, spurred by Her feelings of concern, became a calamity for him.

The Mother Goddess couldn’t hold back Her tears as She gazed upon Roel. Her defenses had already crumbled from the moment he called Her ‘Mother’ after the passing of a thousand years. Words couldn’t begin to describe the self-reproach She felt for allowing harm to befall Her child.

“Please calm down, O great Mother Goddess!”

A familiar voice brought a tinge of clarity back to the Mother Goddess’ head. She raised Her head and saw the chief of the High Elves, Micher Sofiat, slowly walking up to Her, but it was a pity that even Her most trusted aide couldn’t hope to distract Her from Her grief.

She merely spared him a glance before turning back to the child in Her embrace.

The Moonsoul Tower rumbled as if it was on the verge of collapsing, but the emotionally unstable Mother Goddess continued to release an overwhelming amount of mana that strained their surroundings. Knowing that it was only a matter of time before everything was destroyed at this rate, Micher panicked.

It was at this critical moment that a feeble voice broke the Mother Goddess out of Her grief, thus returning peace to the world.

“…Please calm down. I’m fine, Mother.”

“!”

Roel weakly opened his eyes.