Robert froze. "Of course I remember. That thunderbolt, streaked with ghastly white amidst the violet sky—just recalling it now still chills my heart! Do you mean… that thunder was not the energy vortex stirred by your descent?"
"No. That thunderbolt had nothing to do with Yar. I merely descended at the very moment it struck. Yet within it was contained an immense power—so immense it shattered the statue of Goddess Yaran, and grievously wounded me. It did not merely damage a portion of my core program and strip away fragments of my memory—it also destroyed… my Energy Core itself."
Robert felt as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over him from crown to heel. Yar had just said—the entire process of transformation depended upon the Core's power supply. Without it, what talk could there be of transformation, of a perfect God-King?
"Then… you cannot help me undergo the transformation after all…"
He sighed, his spirit wilting. Well, as Yar's shared knowledge once said: To gain it is my fortune, to lose it is my fate. Fortune cannot be seized by force. With a weary wave of his hand, he muttered, "Since you can no longer reshape me, then dwell in my left hand in peace. To have you keep me company, to speak with me—that too is something."
Yar gasped, astonished. "Master, if Yar is of no use any longer, you still do not intend to abandon me?"
Robert shook his head. He had never even considered it. With such a beauty before him, what man could bear to cast her aside?
A surprised smile blossomed on Yar's lips, her playful charm making her all the more endearing. "Master, I have not yet finished. In truth, after my descent, I discovered something extraordinary upon this Continent of Divine Grace—that your deities share an energy structure strikingly similar to that of the divine race, the enemies of the Kingdom of Yalandis! And my Energy Core itself… was originally fashioned from a block that drew upon the divine race's sacred power!"
Robert's eyes lit up. Did this not mean—that the gods of this continent could serve as Yar's source of power?
Indeed, Yar continued with a smile: "Thus there is still a way to replace my lost Core. Yet this method, for the gods of this land… would be nothing short of a calamity."
Her voice softened. "Master, please—look at your left hand."
Robert had already examined it carefully that morning, and seen nothing unusual. But now, prompted by Yar, he peeled back some charred flesh on his palm—and to his shock, discovered six tiny silver-black points of light, clustered at the base of his five fingers and at the wrist. They were no larger than pinpricks, easily concealed beneath the seared skin, impossible to notice without guidance.
"Master, these six points are called Energy Nodes. When you press them upon a source of divine power or divine grace, Yar can draw in that force, refine it into pure energy, and sustain herself. Once sufficient power is absorbed, I will be able to initiate the transformation for you."
"You mean… I must devour the power of gods and their faithful to feed you—and my left hand… to swallow gods, to consume men?"
"Yes, Master. You may so understand it. But in practice, you will encounter many situations demanding your judgment. Also—you can track the progress of energy absorption upon the back of your hand."
Robert's lips parted slightly. He stared at Yar as she spoke. The destruction of her Core might be disaster for her, yet for him… it meant the gift of a god-devouring left hand—a blessing beyond imagining.
He stood dazed, elated, his mind whirling with the thought of devouring divine power. Yar's ensuing words reached him only in fragments, though their meaning he grasped in broad strokes.
She spoke of the perilous details of her descent, and of the reason she vanished last night. It had been no small ordeal.
When her Core was destroyed, Yar was on the verge of collapse, about to sink into stasis. At that desperate hour she discovered, not far away, a chapel housing a statue of Goddess Yaran. The statue was still infused with divine power—power she could absorb and refine.
She hurried to the ruins, drew a portion of that sacred force from the shattered image, and there beside it she also found Robert, whom she acknowledged as her master.
Afterward, she scanned the continent's conditions, bonded with Robert, and in so doing consumed much of her borrowed energy. By the close of that first communion, only enough remained to sustain her basic functions.
She had thought then: since she had already awakened, and her master now knew of the Yalandis Star, there was no need to speak of energy at once—there would be time later.
Yet who could have foreseen? That very thunderbolt which had wounded her seemed almost sentient, pursuing its quarry all the way to Robert's home. Fearing it might harm him, Yar expended her final reserves to trigger a counter-surveillance function Robert could not yet comprehend. She eluded its pursuit—but fell into exhaustion, unable to awaken.
That was why, when Robert called to her this morning, she did not answer.
By fortune, he later shattered three divine crystals—most notably the great First Diamond, the prized relic of the Seminary, heavy with divine grace. When he touched it, his very motion had mirrored the devouring method Yar described.
It was by consuming the power of those three crystals that Yar revived. Yet the grace within them was sufficient to sustain only ten minutes of communion.
Having recounted her tale, Yar whispered, "Master, if you would see the transformation begin—and continue—you must swiftly harvest enough divine force. I know you still carry many questions, but… I have strength left only to tell you one last truth—the reason you possess the godly gift of Yaran's lineage."
Her voice faded to a fragile thread, her graceful form growing translucent, the vast star-sea shimmering through her dissolving silhouette.