The learning period was brief, as Diehl discovered Mithra's understanding of God-killing weapons was genuine and surprisingly profound.
He skipped the basics of tracking a Wandering God and focused on how to build a framework for their remains. Modern design emphasized restraining the weapon's Self, but it wasn't a total war against the Wandering God.
Sometimes you had to fill the void rather than block it.
Like the Night Hunter's Greatsword, born from an aggressive, dog-like Wandering God: if you forced that spirit into a small shield, the dog would be miserable. And discomfort leads to trouble.
Mithra translated Diehl's advice into "pet raising" to make sense of it.
Using a God-killing weapon was like owning a dangerous, disobedient beast. They recognized no kin and followed only their own whims. One lapse in focus, and the weapon would devour its owner. You had to be ruthless at critical moments.
Restrain them. Control them. Teach them.
Yet, in small ways, you had to indulge them so they could function comfortably. It was a strange unity of opposites.
Because of this, modern God-killing weapons grew weirder than ancient ones, often developing peculiar accompanying functions. After all, if humans don't always know what they want, perhaps Wandering Gods are the same?
Diehl pointed to Aoife's Dark Light as an example.
He swore his design wasn't flawed—it wasn't his fault the weapon was hideous. The Wandering God powering Dark Light was just like a drama protagonist. It wanted to stay hidden until the moment it was unsheathed, where it would then blind everyone.
They even added a Self-Effacement miracle so it would look like absolute trash when not in use.
Some weapons were even more demanding, requiring complex transformation functions. A sword that had to become a shield; a hammer that turned into an axe; an anchor that disassembled into blades.
"God-killing weapons are the bosses! You have to worship them just to borrow their power! The blacksmith handles the worship; the user just has to survive the influence and maintain control."
That was Diehl's bitter summary, born from years of crafting trauma.
Finally, Diehl and Mithra sat down to produce the initial draft for the Chrysalis.
...
"Tsk, typical Chrysalis, so many damn demands... Scepter-sword form, whip-blade form, and the head needs Flesh Transmutation capabilities," Diehl grumbled, frowning at the final design.
Mithra stayed silent.
Actually, the Chrysalis hadn't said a word. Mithra had asked, but the insect just played dead, looking completely disillusioned with life. So, she just improvised. The Chrysalis probably wouldn't mind.
"Did you really haggle with it? Don't let it lead you by the nose. Indulgence is fine, but too much autonomy is a mistake," Diehl warned.
"If a Wandering God refuses to cooperate, what do you usually do?" Mithra asked.
"We wing it. We build what we think it should be. For aggressive gods, we make heavy hitters. For the weird ones, we just watch how they mutate. It's mostly guesswork; there is no such thing as 100% certainty," Diehl said, scratching his head.
Not exactly a rigorous scientist, Mithra thought.
"The Chrysalis is fine. It seems to have strong practical utility," she said aloud.
"I hate practical weapons. They make you reliant. You get changed by the weapon without even realizing it. It's no different from miracles," Diehl replied, still worried.
But he didn't stop her. The draft was excellent—hard to believe it came from someone who had studied modern crafting for less than two weeks.
Diehl had learned Mithra's temperament during their time together. She was immovable. Salomo claimed she was easy to approach, but Diehl didn't see it. She was polite, sure, but in dangerous situations, she was practically disco-dancing in a minefield.
He had heard her story. He knew why she was here, and so did Safin. That was why he worked so hard to teach her. He didn't want to see another young soul lost to hatred. That kind of darkness led to mutations and uncontrolled miracles.
But as an outsider of the Holy Sanctuary, there was only so much he could say.
Sigh.
Mithra saw the look in Diehl's eyes and felt a question mark pop up over her head. Was this man imagining something weird?
She realized the Holy Sanctuary people had overactive imaginations. No matter how much she acted normal, they saw her as a "deeply sorrowful and vengeful" tragic figure.
Was her everyday face really that depressing?
"I'll refine the draft tonight."
"Is that necessary? I was planning to use the old method anyway," Mithra said.
It wasn't that old, really. She just hadn't used Fleshforge with this much precision before. Usually, she just imagined the result and let her brain automate the fusion.
"Wait. So impatient... impatient to be eaten by a Wandering God, eh?" Diehl glared at her, snatched the manuscript, and walked out.
Mithra shrugged and headed to the Holy Sanctuary dining hall. The food there was way better than at Hydria University.
Diehl didn't go to his room. He went straight to the forge.
He lit the fire and got to work.
The sky darkened rapidly, but the temperature inside the forge remained stifling.
Suddenly, the door swung open. Salomo entered carrying a bento box and found Diehl laboring, sweat pouring down his bare skin.
Stripped of his heavy layers, the seemingly slender Diehl revealed a frame of well-defined, lean muscle.
"I heard you haven't eaten. Even if Mithra is a respectable person, you're pushing too hard. Forging the framework of a God-killing weapon embryo alone is simply madness," Salomo said, setting the food aside.
Diehl didn't blink. "I consulted with old friends afterwards, letting them brainstorm. It wasn't just my effort."
"But you're still the only one doing the physical labor. It's unnecessary," Salomo said with worry. "I almost regret contacting you."
"The critical process of handling the Wandering God's remains isn't my burden. I'm just helping to reduce the risks for her," Diehl said, shaking his head.
"You still haven't moved on from the Warehouse Incident," Salomo said seriously.
Diehl remained silent. Only the mechanical whirring of the miracle machine filled the forge.
"In that regard, you and Mithra are quite similar," Salomo mused, then added with self-reproach, "I thought you two might have something in common, but I miscalculated."
"That's not right," Diehl's melancholic face broke into a rare smile. "Being able to help the next person who might be devoured by a God-killing weapon, I'm happy beyond words."
"Are you trying to comfort me now?"
"Well, you're paying for all the work and expenses this time. Why wouldn't I offer some comfort?"
"You little rascal!"
"Anyway, once you've earned enough money to act like a big shot, come back and see the old man. Even if your miracle skills are mostly wasted, your teacher still misses you," Diehl retorted.
Salomo laughed heartily. "We'll see. Getting tricked into a beating by the old man doesn't sound like a good plan."
"Hmph," Diehl snorted, returning to his work.
...
The day after submitting the design draft, Mithra didn't see Diehl. Salomo arrived to apologize, explaining he was busy with urgent matters and asked her to wait.
Mithra sensed they were hiding something, but she waited patiently.
The wait stretched for over half a month.
Mithra had been entangled with this God-killing weapon for too long. During the gap, she returned to Earth for a brief trip.
To her delight, her social worker test results arrived. She passed with high marks and received her legitimate Earthling ID card.
Staring at the official identity certificate, she felt a strange discomfort, but she buried the feeling deep beneath her usual expressionless facade.
Matsuri seemed to guess Mithra's thoughts. She didn't pry, simply sharing a meal before quietly leaving.
After topping up some life locks, honing her techniques, mastering miracles, and extending her Sensory Synchronization, Mithra's time moved fast.
When she finally returned to Xyrin City, she was immediately summoned by Salomo and Diehl.
Looking at a coil of whip-like objects on the table, Mithra fell silent.
"Take it and use it. I've also modified your previous design. With your skill, just follow the steps. As long as you can control the Wandering God's remains, there will be no problem. Now, prove it to me," Diehl said coldly, then turned and walked out.
Salomo remained, sitting across from Mithra.
"He's basically finished all the groundwork, hasn't he?" Mithra asked after a long pause.
Salomo gave his usual polite smile and nodded slightly.
"Another debt of gratitude. Greed really does pull one deeper and deeper," Mithra said. "While God-killing weapon craftsmanship isn't impossibly difficult, it isn't something one can fix alone."
"Don't look at it that way. You saved lives twice; that is a fact. Diehl's decision to help was his own," Salomo said quickly.
"No need for compliments. Next time the Holy Sanctuary needs something, come to me. Whether it's hunting cults or facing Wandering Gods, I will accept," Mithra declared, gathering the items and leaving the room.
Salomo sat alone, his smile fading into helplessness.
"Why are they all like this? This intermediary job is far too difficult."
...
Mithra borrowed the forge. She still had to maintain her facade. After warning everyone not to disturb her except for food deliveries, her work began.
She pulled out the Chrysalis hand holding the heart, the Chrysalis larva with its scattered Inspiration, and the whip-shaped framework embryo Diehl had prepared.
She pulled all three into her body.
As soon as the hand touched her interior, it tried to struggle, abandoning its docile act. But a surge of black aura from Mithra's body crushed its resistance.
She opened the design draft before her eyes, and the forging started.
This was far more intense than a simple fusion. A severe, crushing discomfort spread through her entire body.
Her head spun, and her belly swelled painfully. She felt her abdomen distending with Ki that couldn't be released. Her internal organs were shifting, playing a deadly game of hide-and-seek inside her expanding frame.
Every limb and organ seemed to develop its own will, making her thoughts begin to "dance" in chaos.
Calmness, Calmness, Calmness!
DING, DING, DING...
The calmness didn't work.
Fleshforge was linked to both her body and spirit. If she didn't focus and actively control the God-killing weapon fusion, the materials would never merge.
The Hand holding the Heart was in direct conflict with Diehl's framework. The automated Fleshforge couldn't force them together.
Mithra had to do it manually.
Fleshforge bypassed the need for tools, but to craft a God-killing weapon, her mind had to be absolutely clear!
"Ugh… Ugh… Ah… Wide mouth… feed me, give me flesh…"
"Hungry…"
The wide mouth stuck out its tongue, drooling, but this was not the drool of appetite. Mithra felt nauseous and uncomfortable, and the wide mouth felt equally miserable. Its tongue stretched out, either limp or wildly thrashing, also on the verge of madness.
Mithra looked at the flickering tongue before her, which occasionally whipped her face with merciless force, then opened her mouth and bit down directly.
RIP!
A segment was torn away, landing directly into Mithra's mouth.
"Hungry…!"
"Continue, stay with me until the end, good boy… Ugh… Ah…" Mithra panted, barely managing to squeeze out a sentence, but she quickly succumbed again to the pain and nausea throughout her body.
Her entire body was barely able to move. She struggled to support herself on the ground, staring at the design draft before her, continuing to manipulate Fleshforge. Her flesh would simply eat the wide mouth's tongue, and the wide mouth would then expel all the power converted from the flesh it usually consumed, giving it to Mithra.
In this back and forth, time slowly passed.
To say one day felt like one year was a complete understatement. Mithra had no mind to care about time. One hand continuously replenished her mouth, her calmness forced as she chewed on the wide mouth's tongue.
Her eyes were bloodshot, a twisted, convulsive smile on her lips. Her entire body occasionally twitched bizarrely, contorting in the dark.
Rather than the forging site of a god-killing weapon, it looked more like the scene of some bizarre evil god's sacrificial ritual.
When Mithra processed all the materials and the framework according to the design draft, the manual part finally ended.
Theoretically, Mithra could now sleep.
"Hungry!" The wide mouth let out a tormented and liberated shout, then quickly retracted its mottled tongue, closing its mouth and vanishing into Mithra's chest.
Mithra, her eyes closed, collapsed to the ground, unable to get up. Her remaining body continued to twitch uncontrollably.
...
Mithra slowly opened her eyes, but the scene before her was not the forge.
It was a dilapidated hospital, seemingly abandoned long ago.
Mist enveloped everything around her, a vast expanse, and besides the large hospital building in front of her, there seemed to be no other path to take.
But Mithra still tentatively stepped toward the edge of the white mist.
The result was that staying in the misty fog for too long made her nauseous. After a few steps, Mithra no longer wanted to aimlessly suffer and turned back to the hospital entrance.
"What is this situation?" Mithra mused.
[Event – "Dream Gap"]
[The Dream Nexus has many faces. Congratulations on discovering an unfamiliar one for you.]
[Akhka's Gift: Brings guidance in dreams.]
[Cost: Unable to determine the state of guidance. It may have long been lost and disoriented within the gap, potentially bringing danger.]
Mithra looked at the inspiration gift that had triggered before her, somewhat stunned.
Dream Nexus... Dream Gap?
This dream world also had dreams within dreams?
"Accept," Mithra said.
Many uncertain dangers were not within Mithra's scope of consideration. To date, her thinking remained: it doesn't matter. Working for a mysterious and powerful boss behind the scenes, walking in this strange world, she could accept all kinds of deaths she might encounter.
Even if the death was utterly worthless, utterly meaningless.
If she wanted to see the scenery, then she naturally had to move her feet. How much she could see in the end, how much scenery she could take in until death—that was her primary consideration.
As her words fell, the text before her dispersed.
In Mithra's hand appeared a string of white and off-white bells, with a small bird bas-relief carved on each bell.
[Sleepbird Bell: A bell that guides dreams, called forth by the sleepless toilers in dreams. Simply ring it in a dream, and guidance will arrive.]
[The dream bell seems not to have rung for a very long time.]
Gently ringing it, a crisp chime emanated.
A gust of wind brushed past, rustling Mithra's clothes and hair. Suddenly, white feathers flashed before her eyes.
Mithra's eyes widened slightly, and she heard a slow, gentle breath.
"Ah… A familiar yet somewhat distant cipher, awakening me from endless slumber. The people I meet grow stranger and stranger, so strange that they cannot be found at all in memory…" A hoarse, low female voice came from beside Mithra.
Mithra turned to look.
A tall, slender woman stood there, dressed in elegant gray clothing with intricate patterns, a black, bird-feather-like cloak draped over her shoulders. Her loose, long white hair partially fell naturally, partially hung over her shoulders, with a hint of purple at the ends.
Her eyes were completely black, both sclera and pupils, with only a white demarcation between them. Those eyes were like two pitch-black suns, unlike a human's.
The woman placed her hands on her abdomen, lightly bowing toward Mithra: "Greetings, traveler. I am… Elise. My apologies, I can no longer remember many things. I hope I can be of assistance to you."
"Hello, my name is Mithra," Mithra introduced herself.
"Although I may soon forget, I will try my best to remember, traveler," Elise's voice showed no change.
This guide's condition seemed a bit better than what the boss behind the scenes might have thought.
Was her luck not bad?
"Excuse me, where is this place?"
"This is the Dream Gap, the intersection of spirit and matter, illusion and reality. Dreams born from countless living beings' thoughts converge here, separated yet near. Here, time and space are chaotic and have almost lost their meaning. Therefore, many lost existences of the Dream Nexus can find a moment of peace here. But they themselves cannot be certain whether they are merely a false spark within a dream, or their true Self."
"…" Mithra silently stared at Miss Elise.
"Any more questions, traveler?"
"I don't understand."
"Are you an idiot, traveler?" Elise revealed a smile, but her words were quite aggressive.
"Perhaps I am. And you obviously have no intention of remembering my name, do you?" Mithra replied crisply.
"Enchanted Realm?" To her surprise, Elise looked puzzled.
"Hmm?" Mithra was also surprised.
Up until now, she was always the one who knew nothing, a complete novice. But now, someone who seemed to have a knowledge deficit had appeared. Mithra could only clumsily describe what the Enchanted Realm was to Elise in return. Quoting Safin's words should be fine, right?
After listening, Elise showed slight surprise, but quickly returned to her original indifferent expression: "So that's it, another material world. Waking up, the world has indeed changed greatly."
"Miss Elise, from what era are you?" Mithra asked calmly. In the records of the Dream Nexus, people from the Enchanted Realm appeared towards the end of the Wandering God era.
"I don't remember," Elise said simply.
"Are you forgetful, Miss Elise?"
"Perhaps so," Elise replied just as simply, then added, "But I surely fell asleep in a beautiful era. I have forgotten many things, but I still remember one sentence."
"Please tell me."
"'You are the guide of suffering souls, the indistinct bird that tugs at dreams. When you awaken, the world sleeps.'"
"I don't understand."
"Miss Passenger, you are very impolite."
"Miss Forgetful, you are very rude."
Elise ignored her, continuing: "Presumably, my sleep was a good thing for the world, but now I am awake and wish to guide you…" She looked at Mithra. "It's probably very difficult to soothe it back to sleep, too."
Mithra: ?
"Let's go. I will guide you towards wakefulness. Perhaps during this time, I can remember more things, and also help you leave this place sooner," Elise murmured, stepping forward, walking into the abandoned hospital's main entrance. Mithra shrugged and followed Elise into the hospital.
"Some dreams will place restrictions on the sleeper. However, this dream does not. As long as you can recall what you usually possess when awake, you can gain assistance from your waking state," Elise explained as they walked.
"Is that so?" Mithra said, directly stabbing herself in the abdomen.
Elise turned to look at Mithra.
RIP!
Mithra pulled out her hammer, casually tossing it up and catching the handle: "It truly is." The pain didn't even have the slightest delay; this dream was truly realistic enough.
Elise: "…Miss Passenger, are you truly a sane person?"
"Perhaps," Mithra nodded, then applied Calmness to herself again.
DING~
The sensation of Calmness was still good.
Elise nodded slightly: "You don't seem to be assimilated by the dream."
Mithra looked at Elise: "According to what you just said, this so-called dream would still be dangerous, right?"
"Yes."
"Then what about you?"
"I don't need assistance, Miss Passenger. In dreams, I can provide you with help. If you are very frustrated, I can even act entirely on your behalf. However, the level of power I can wield is generally comparable to yours. If you are truly frustrated to the extreme, then I can only share life and death with you," Elise said indifferently.
"Then it seems I don't need to share life and death with you. That's truly excellent," Mithra turned her head back, saying fortunately.
As she spoke, Mithra suddenly felt a sensation of being stared at. She abruptly turned her head and looked towards the hospital's inpatient building. Behind the neatly arranged windows, everything was pitch black. The internal scene was unclear.
"You're being stared at the moment you enter… Are you perhaps disliked by many dream owners, Miss Passenger?"
"I don't even know whose dream this is," Mithra said, suddenly recalling Busheng's final gaze when she had dismembered him. The feeling just now was very similar. "…Not necessarily. Perhaps you truly are disliked by many, it's hard to say." After thinking for a moment, Mithra corrected herself.
Elise was about to speak when heavy footsteps echoed.
A corpulent figure, bare-chested, wearing patient's trousers. Its skin was covered in stitch marks, and its lips were completely torn away, revealing gums and jagged, inhuman teeth. The monstrous figure saw Mithra and Elise from a distance, paused, then suddenly swung its arms forcefully, taking long strides.
BANG!
With a dull thud, the monster burst forth with astonishing power, charging straight towards the two of them.
Elise immediately blocked in front of Mithra, holding two curved knives in her hands, appearing from nowhere. With precise and decisive movements, she cut off the opponent's fat arms. But the arms severed by Elise continued to move. After falling to the ground, they immediately sprang up and continued to attack. Elise continued to wield her twin blades in response.
And with a clap, Mithra appeared behind the corpulent figure, sweeping her hammer horizontally.
The corpulent figure's head was directly taken off its neck. The wriggling blood vessels and nerve endings still connected by thin threads, but Mithra, with added force, tore them apart. The head fell to the ground. Blood splattered all over Mithra, but her movements did not stop. She aimed at the head and struck it with several hammer blows.
And the body behind, headless, also immediately slumped to the ground, though still trembling.
Elise, at this moment, cut the two arms into several pieces. Her twin blades turned and aimed at the headless body. A purplish-white light flashed on the blades, and the flesh and blood shattered in an instant. Elise's body was also splattered with blood. Without wiping it, she turned to look at Mithra.
Mithra, however, was looking at the corpulent remains.
"Flesh slime again?"