Jade's radiance faded faster than anyone had expected.
When Qlipoth's figure finally vanished from the sky of the dream, all of Penacony sank into a strange, unnatural silence.
The Amber Lord, before whom even the stars trembled, had disappeared just like that.
No omen. No farewell.
As if He had never descended at all.
Aventurine was the first to recover from the shock.
His pupils contracted sharply. Those eyes that usually carried a trace of flippant amusement were now nailed to the white figure kneeling on the screen.
"…That's Miss Kallen? But why?" Aventurine's voice came out dry.
Of course he recognized the woman who had intercepted the Amber Lord's attack. Not long ago, she had casually sold him out in Clock Studios.
But even earlier than that, the company had made an agreement with this Emanator of Preservation.
Once the Charmony Festival was over, the company would bring her back to Pier Point and help her complete her "mission" for Preservation.
No one knew what exactly that mission was, but out of reverence for Qlipoth, and in light of the unquestionable status she had revealed, the company had naturally agreed without hesitation.
But what was this supposed to mean?
Aventurine's gaze remained locked on the screen, on that figure kneeling in a pool of blood, while countless possibilities churned through his mind.
Could it be that she had deceived the company all along? That from the beginning to the end, she had been in league with Sunday?
If that were true, then everything before this—
the company's assessment of her, Jade's trust, all of those carefully laid plans for cooperation—
would have been a complete joke.
Yet when he replayed his previous conversations with Kallen in his head, Aventurine still felt that things could not be so simple.
After all, Cornerstones did not lie.
Not only Jade's Cornerstone—even his own Aventurine Stone had resonated in response to Kallen.
And far outside Penacony, Jade's expression was no better.
One hand braced against the edge of the control console, she did not speak a single word.
Behind her, Topaz stood with her lips slightly parted, but she, too, said nothing.
Both of them had seen it.
They had seen the Emanator of Preservation named Kallen openly step in and block Qlipoth's strike.
That was not an attack that could be blocked lightly. It was a blow from a god.
And that woman had not only blocked it—
she had survived it.
Remembering the agreement they had made with her earlier, Jade found herself unable to decide whether she should feel relieved that Kallen was alive, or unsettled.
At last, Topaz broke the silence.
"Can you summon the Amber Lord one more time? Miss Kallen shouldn't have any strength left now."
Topaz was, by nature, practical.
In a crisis, her instinct was always to search for a solution. And at this moment, the most direct solution she could think of was simple:
Do it again.
"…No." Jade finally spoke, her voice lower than usual.
"That summoning itself was already a matter of taking advantage of a rare opportunity. The Amber Lord's gaze is not a resource we can spend without limit."
Topaz fell silent for a moment. "Then what about Aventurine and the others…"
"…Tell them to withdraw for now." Jade closed her eyes.
"Since Miss Kallen chose to intercept that strike, it means she has her own intentions. Until we understand what she's trying to do, we can't act rashly again."
Topaz looked as though she wanted to say more, but in the end she only nodded.
Jade's gaze returned to the white figure kneeling on the screen, her brow furrowed tightly.
Meanwhile, inside Penacony's dreamscape, Kallen sat amidst a field of blood and shattered flesh.
She was not moving.
Not because she did not want to—
but because she simply could not.
Once pain passed a certain threshold, it circled all the way back into numbness.
Kallen kept her head lowered. Her white hair, soaked in sweat and blood, clung in disarray to her temples and cheeks.
Fortunately, as an Emanator of Preservation, while her vitality was nowhere near as absurd as that of Abundance, as long as she was not dead, recovery was not particularly difficult.
The problem was that, in her current condition, it would still take time.
Kallen let out a bitter laugh in her heart.
A star god truly was a star god. Even a temporary appearance, even a single strike, had nearly beaten her to death.
Then again, perhaps she had simply been too confident.
As things stood, there was a very real possibility that she was now the only being in galactic history who had survived a direct blow from a star god.
Kallen thought for a moment and decided not to force herself to move.
Closing her eyes, she began to inspect the state of her body.
The description of Adapt to All Things surfaced in the depths of her consciousness like words written in blood.
Preservation Resistance: 50%.
That was only the result of enduring the first strike. If Qlipoth hit her again, that number would go higher. And if He hit her ten times, a hundred times—
Kallen stopped herself before she could follow that line of thought any further.
The practical issue was that she could not even stand up right now, let alone ask the Amber Lord to hit her again.
She opened her eyes and looked at the wounds along her arms, the flesh and bone very slowly knitting themselves back together.
Too slow.
Far too slow.
As an Emanator of Preservation, her regenerative ability should not have been this poor. Under normal circumstances, injuries like these might not heal instantly, but at the very least they should have mostly recovered within minutes.
But now, those shattered bones seemed to be suppressed by something, refusing to reconnect.
Frowning, Kallen probed a little deeper.
And then she understood.
It was Qlipoth's power.
There was still residue of Preservation's force left inside her body from that strike.
If she did not purge that remaining force first, her healing speed would continue to be suppressed to the lowest possible level.
So Preservation also had this kind of filthy "bleed" mechanic?
Taking a breath, Kallen began calling on Penacony's dream authority.
This had always been one of her trump cards. After Gopher Wood's death, the authority over Penacony had been completely swallowed up by her Nihility.
In a certain sense, the entire dreamscape already belonged to her.
She had simply refrained from using it because she did not want to reveal that card too early.
But now, she had no choice.
The authority of the dream spread out like a giant net from Penacony's core, blanketing every inch of land, every sleeper's consciousness.
Kallen's awareness sank into that net and began drawing in the drifting energy of dreams.
Soon, a warm current gathered around her broken arms.
It was a stopgap, not a real cure, but it would at least let her move.
Miss Kallen, please allow me to help you.
A gentle voice suddenly rang through the depths of her consciousness.
Kallen raised her head and saw Sunday standing not far away.
A pale golden light circled around him—the authority of Order's Path taking shape.
At this moment, Sunday no longer looked like an ordinary mortal. He looked more like some existence beyond human understanding.
It seemed that Sunday was no longer in the post-transformation cooldown state he had been trapped in earlier.
Kallen spoke blandly. "Aren't you in the middle of becoming a god? You still have time to come check on me?"
"You took that blow in my place. I came to thank you," Sunday answered honestly.
Before this, he had not actually decided how to deal with Kallen, the Emanator of Preservation.
Because of his sister, there had been minor misunderstandings and friction between them.
Those things were not large, but neither were they small. Anything involving Robin was never a small matter to Sunday.
Even so, in keeping with his creed of loving all under heaven, before he ascended he had no intention of settling scores with her.
He was not a petty man by nature.
And soon he would become the embodiment of a Path, a being beyond the mundane. The grudges and resentments of mortal life would, by then, be no more than dust.
But there was one thing about Kallen that made Sunday deeply wary.
She had stolen part of Penacony's dream authority from Mr. Gopher Wood. That was something Sunday had only learned shortly before his ascension.
And that was exactly where the problem lay.
What Sunday wanted to create was a new world built upon Penacony's dream—a world where all people slumbered within beautiful dreams.
In that world, there would be no pain, no separation, no yearning unfulfilled, no joy lost after being gained.
Only eternal, tranquil, perfect dreams.
And Kallen's hold over that authority was something Sunday could never afford to ignore.
Because as long as she possessed that power, she would remain the greatest threat inside that new world.
But that had been before.
At least now, Sunday had decided to place his trust in her.
He stopped in front of Kallen, bent slightly, and extended a hand toward her.
"Please allow me to offer you my respect once more, Miss Kallen. I was wrong to question your motives before."
"You truly are Order's staunchest ally."
"…So?" Kallen tugged at one corner of her mouth. "You inviting me out to eat?"
Sunday did not answer the flippant question. His gaze fell to her arms.
Then he did something Kallen had not expected in the slightest.
Golden light flowed around him like garments woven from radiance itself. That was the authority of Order, the power of a Path on the brink of completion.
"Miss Kallen, I have already ascended—but I intend to abandon Order and create an entirely new Path."
Yet, despite all her previous claims of revering Order, Kallen said nothing in response.
She only narrowed her eyes. "What are you getting at?"
Sunday gave a quiet sigh and let the matter go. "I am willing to temporarily lend you one quarter of my authority, so that you may recover from your injuries first."
"Do you even know what you're saying?" Kallen finally spoke.
"Lend me a quarter of your authority? Aren't you afraid I'll betray you?"
"I'm not."
"Why?"
Sunday fell silent for a moment.
"Because you are an Emanator of Preservation," he said.
"Preservation and Order are, at heart, very similar Paths. One protects the order of the world. The other builds a world of order."
"Unlike the company, Miss Kallen, your Preservation is true Preservation."
"And besides, you just blocked what might have been a fatal blow for me. If even that is not enough to earn my trust, then what meaning could the new world I am about to create possibly have?"
At that, Kallen suddenly laughed.
That really was an unexpected bonus.
Originally, she had been thinking that if Kallen's injuries could not be healed in time, she would just send Kiana up to solo God-Sunday instead.
But now, since he was willing to do this, naturally she had no intention of refusing.
"Fine. You're right. Trust is important."
Kallen raised her hands—still embedded with fragments of the Amber Lord's power—and accepted the golden light Sunday offered her.
He gave her no more and no less than exactly enough authority to suppress the stubborn remains of Preservation inside her.
How much time passed after that, even Kallen herself did not know.
But eventually she opened her eyes.
Silence had stretched on between them all the while.
She lifted her arm and flexed her fingers.
"All better?" Sunday asked.
"All better." Kallen rose to her feet. "Now hand it back, then."
It had to be said—stacking Sunday's authority on top of the dreamscape's really was convenient.
Kallen felt that just now, her healing had almost been fast enough to rival Cecilia's.
Of course, from the amount Sunday had given her, it seemed it was only really enough to treat injuries.
So even if he kept saying he trusted her, he had still held a little insurance back in reserve.
"No need to rush," Sunday said, shaking his head faintly. "You still need it to—"
"I said I'm giving it back, so I'm giving it back," Kallen cut in, her tone leaving no room for argument.
She raised a hand, and the quarter portion of golden authority began to flow from her fingertips.
Sunday froze for a second, as if he wanted to say something.
Because he suddenly felt that something was wrong.
An ordinary person in this situation, let alone returning the authority willingly, would most likely be looking for excuses to keep it.
"Hey… don't look at me like that." Kallen twisted her mouth. "I may not be a good person, but when I borrow something, I return it properly."
After a short pause, Sunday said nothing further.
It seemed he truly had misjudged her in many ways before.
Then Kallen walked up to the utterly defenseless Sunday.
"So you just said you wanted to forge a brand-new Path and drag the whole galaxy into your beautiful dream?"
Sunday had not even had time to answer—
Bang.
In one instant, Kallen moved in a way he had never anticipated.
Nihility surged together with the authority in her hand.
And Kallen's right hand pierced straight through Sunday's chest.
Blood exploded everywhere.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
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Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 155)
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I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter230)
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Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
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Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 230
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Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
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The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 120
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 135
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 110
I Can Copy Unique Skills 100
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Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 105
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Checking In in Demon Slayer 80
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 85
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Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 45
Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 45
The Uma Musume Who Became 40
I'm Definitely Not the King of 45
After Maxing Out Every Class 45
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