Chapter 176: The Moon Goddess 100,000 Years Later - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

The clear moonlight streamed in like spring water, quickly inundating the grand hall. The Witch of the End lifted her head, frowning slightly as she gazed at the scene before her. This was the power from the Goddess of the Moon. Silent, yet hiding lethal intent. "Beatrice?" The witch suddenly murmured softly. She couldn't fathom what had possessed the goddess. For tens of thousands of years, she hadn't displayed her divine power within the Pantheon, and even Sia, the Ancestor of All Gods, held the policy of merely sealing her, awaiting the descent of the Sword of Damocles. The Witch of the End herself, shackled by the Chains of Order, was unable to influence the external world. Inside and outside were like two parallel lines, forever non-intersecting. Yet now, the entity from Sia’s faction was the first to shatter this peculiar balance. What had her followers done in the past? Despite her confusion, the witch, who regarded the entire great hall as her domain, would not tolerate any infringement on her dignity. Even though several seals hadn’t been lifted and she was greatly weakened from recently intervening over ten millennia, she was not one to be trifled with. A surge of blood-red waves burst forth, perceiving the moonlight's divine power as vulnerable little white sheep to be devoured at once. Laughable, indeed. In these ten thousand years, if it weren't for clinging to a powerful ally, did it truly believe it had the right to roam freely before this witch without being hunted? It was solely because the Witch of the End was not in her best state that the opportunity for provocation arose. With the turbulence and surges of divine power, the red and white lights divided the space, locked in confrontation. Upon seeing this, the witch's eyes flashed coldly. In the next moment, the situation changed abruptly. The crimson end power suddenly gathered behind her, forming an immense wheel, covered with countless divine symbols and marks. It resembled a tombstone for the gods, a supreme artifact capable of manipulating time and space laws. With the slow rotation of the wheel, the invisible power of order started to flow. "Boom—!!!" Within the Pantheon, numerous divine statues began to tremble involuntarily, as did the last chains binding the Witch of the End. It seemed that in the next second, this evil god, sealed for countless years, might break free and once again unleash chaos upon the world. Through the long and lingering divine power of moonlight, the witch seemed to see a pure, white, serene goddess, unmoved and tranquil. Yet to the witch, this serenity was mere deception. Since she dared to provoke this witch, she ought to leave something behind! In the next instant, the witch's figure vanished, her right hand enveloped by sharp claws of blood-red power, slicing through the void. "Rip!" Along with the sound, and a woman's suppressed groan of pain, the delicate balance between the red and white lights was broken. The collapse was swift. Within seconds, the unprecedented end power swept over the entire hall, tearing through the remaining moonlight's divine power with vicious ferocity. Moments later, silence. Light chains clinked softly as the witch, dressed in a tattered black gown and barefooted, lightly descended back to her original place. She slowly opened her palm. In it lay a strand of hair, contrasting starkly with the witch's pale locks, moonlit white and shimmering subtly. This was a trophy, a strand of hair cut from the Goddess of the Moon in their brief skirmish. Yet despite the victory, no joy appeared on the witch's face; instead, her eyes bore a trace of icy indifference. She lifted her right wrist, gazing at the shackle upon it. The fissures that had emerged due to Lynn's meddling with fate had vanished. Not only that, the chain of order had become even heavier. It seemed this was the true purpose of the goddess's abrupt descent. To strengthen the seal upon her. But why? What memory from ten thousand years ago had reached her, provoking such a rash and bold move, pitting her directly against the witch? Considering the absence of Sia or Celia, it suggested that only the Goddess of the Moon possessed this memory. This implied it was an event between her followers and the past goddess. The witch's eyes flashed with anger, yearning to see what the old memories held that could spark such actions. However, with the strengthened seal and previous cross-temporal interventions depleting her greatly, she found herself unable to affect him. Moreover, such cross-temporal communication was inherently one-sided. From a future vantage point, she couldn't communicate with the past proactively. Only if Lynn initiated contact or lowered his guard could she intervene. Just like during the demon battle at Solen Mountain, where only through the relic and a plea for help could she pull Lynn through. The witch's emotions remained unsettled, her chest rising and falling with agitation. Beatrice. She repeatedly intoned this name in her heart, attempting to recall some long-overlooked memory from the distant past. After a while, the witch noticed a peculiarity. Originally, the goddess called Beatrice, when among the elves, was she not originally named Tia Yuhesty? No, that was wrong. Tia Yuhesty was her original name. Vaguely remembering an event that caused her to change to her current name. The witch frowned slightly. In her memories, she had been unconscious for most of the royal selection ceremony, only waking as it drew to a close. By that time, Tia was already renamed Beatrice. Indeed. Thinking it through, the current moon goddess was actually the second generation. And Tia Yuhesty was merely a prepared vessel and shell in a sense. Because the original moon goddess had suffered indescribable corruption, she had to split part of her consciousness, abandon the divine body, and descend into the pre-chosen vessel, crafting an alternative path to godhood. As the memories and clues slowly resurfaced in her mind, the witch began to vaguely reconstruct the past events. By the timeline of her follower, it should be nearly time. In less than a week, the Silent Church would hold its triennial Moonlit Festival. Then, Beatrice would descend into Tia's body, reclaiming her path to godhood as an elf. She seemed to understand. Thus, everything Lynn did was for naught. The re-strengthened and heavy shackles on her wrist were unmistakable indicators. Because regardless of what he said or did, they only affected the individual named "Tia." And that individual was merely a mistake. A small consciousness born accidentally within the goddess's vessel. Its destiny was to be assimilated by Beatrice’s overwhelming divine power—in reality, to be completely obliterated. Since this consciousness wasn't originally from the Goddess of the Moon, assimilation was impossible. In essence, it resembled Lynn, akin to a "defect." Defects were destined to be purged. Precisely. For Tia Yuhesty, this accidental mistake, she was tragically beyond even the concept of death, merely destined for eradication. At the Moonlit Festival, her consciousness would be obliterated, leaving memories for Beatrice to access. Such an existence could no longer be called Tia, but would instead be the Moon Goddess herself. This was the full picture. The witch sat silently on the steps, expressionless. It seemed the corrective force of destiny was far more powerful than anticipated. For Beatrice, who had lived since the epoch of divine warfare, Lynn was far too naive and weak. He simply could not alter the trajectory of a deity’s fate. Thus, the path of unraveling the Moon Goddess’s Chains of Order seemed impassable. The other paths appeared even more challenging than this. The road to breaking the seal was at an impasse, leaving even the witch momentarily at a loss. Fortunately, she had faced such despair many times before and was long accustomed to it, showing no outward anger or hopelessness. Yet, despite this, the disruption of her long-laid plans slightly unsettled her. After a while, a cold sigh echoed in the hall. “Can you create another miracle?”