Child of the Goddess

The Star That Drinks Nebulae.

Like Isabella’s own Jormungandr’s Star, it was a Named star — and among Named stars, one of the most exceptional.

This doesn’t make sense.

I slowly stroked my chin. It truly was strange.

When a character dies, every star they carry falls at random across the continents of Pangenia. Not into the Abyss. I had never once heard of a star falling into the Abyss.

And this was no ordinary Abyss. This was the place Raiga had dragged me into for his “Fragment Hunt,” the domain ruled by the Skin Hybrid of God.

Could all of this really be coincidence?

“And… there is one more thing I have not told you.”

Isabella suddenly spoke up. Even after everything we had already shared, there was still something she had held back. From the way she hesitated, it was clearly something difficult to say.

“What haven’t you told ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me?”

“Some time ago, in the Abyss… I saw a ‘star.’”

“Was it the Star That Drinks Nebulae?”

“……That is what it called itself. But…”

“But?”

“I thought it was a star, yet I am not certain it truly was one…”

Her expression held no confidence. After a moment, she continued.

“Lord Randolph. Are stars not fragments of a goddess’s body?”

“They are.”

I nodded. Originally, the only proper stars belonged to the goddess Rhea — the thirty-two pieces of her divided body. Now countless stars of unknown origin had proliferated, but traditionally, only those thirty-two had been true stars.

Isabella’s face grew grave.

“The ‘star’ I saw was not fragmented.”

“No such star exists.”

“I saw it clearly. It spoke to me. It said it was desperately searching for the Knight King…”

“……?”

A star fallen into the Abyss, desperately seeking the Knight King Wilhelm?

But a star was a fragmented piece of a god’s body. The Star That Drinks Nebulae was no different. If it was not fragmented, then it was not a star at all — it was a god itself.

A god is looking for me?

Even if that were true, questions piled upon questions. No proper god should exist in the Abyss, and why would it speak to Isabella of all people?

Was what Isabella saw truly the Star That Drinks Nebulae?

Then it happened.

Swoooosh—!

A swarm of light appeared before my eyes, and two doors took shape.

“Doors?”

They were doors in the literal sense — gates that opened and closed. Both stood shut.

And that was not the end of it. In the next instant, a message window materialized before me.

The moment I read the window’s contents, I nearly went dizzy. Among the participants’ names were ones that felt unnervingly familiar.

Named Lords of the Abyss. And primordial beings…!

I could not have misread it. Multiplier of the Storm and Owner of the Tomb were among the most famous and powerful Abyss Lords. Whale of the Celestial Axis and Heavenly Demon were without question the primordial beings the Ancient Dragon God had spoken of.

None of them had ever appeared before — but the moment any one of them did, the world itself would tremble. They were absolute powerhouses.

I had no idea what conditions had been satisfied, but why would beings of this caliber join a “Star Hunt”?

Star Hunt. If the name meant exactly what it said — that they had gathered to find a star — then this was dangerous. The star here was the Star That Drinks Nebulae.

Every last one of them is after the Star That Drinks Nebulae.

But why? Even if it was the star that represented the Knight King Wilhelm, it should have had nothing to do with them.

Of course, they might be after a Fragment of Ruin. If all of them were Fragment holders, they could simply be competing to absorb another Fragment.

And yet the timing and the place were both too convenient. Why had the Star Hunt begun the very moment I entered the Abyss?

Was my entry one of the conditions?

……I didn’t know. From what Raiga and Isabella had said, Fragment holders had never gathered in one place like this. So it could not simply be about a single Fragment.

I swallowed a low hum. Eight participants in total — and not a single one of them was anyone to take lightly.

“Isabella. Stay out of this.”

“But…!”

“This is not a place for you.”

I spoke without mercy, with absolute certainty. Isabella was strong — but only by human standards. If she joined that gathering, she would not come back alive. I would not encourage her death.

Isabella’s eyes flared wide.

“Because I am weak?”

“Yes.”

“…….”

At the blunt answer, she bit her lip. It was the truth. Not a single name among the participants belonged to a being weaker than her.

At last she drew a deep breath and spoke again.

“……I will wait here.”

“And how do you know when I’ll return?”

“Until you return, I will wait.”

The answer carried unmistakable resolve. Her eyes held the same unyielding will.

She’s changed.

All this time, Isabella had struggled tirelessly to find herself. The days she had lived as the Snake Princess with every memory gone. The moment she met me, she left at once to reclaim her true self. After that she returned to the desert city of Faisalmer and became its queen — and even then she did not stop, seeking out the Derseian family to investigate the Divine Illness.

Who she was, what she lived for… that search for identity finally seemed complete. Until now she had only ever left my side. But the words “I will wait” — only someone who has found themselves can truly wait.

Of course, I could have forced her back with the Faithful Divine Word engraved on the Phase of the Radiant Pureblood ring, which compelled absolute obedience…

“Then wait.”

She said she would wait, so I told her to wait. I fully intended to return. If the true purpose of this Star Hunt really was the Star That Drinks Nebulae, I had not the slightest intention of yielding it to anyone else.

That star was mine. My star.

Creeeak.

Without hesitation, I opened the right-hand door and stepped through.

“…Yes. No matter what happens, I will wait.”

Behind me, Isabella nodded with a resolute expression, as if she had made some quiet decision of her own.

A question that had popped up out of nowhere on Player Talk. It surfaced from time to time, but no one had ever known the exact answer.

Players who had tasted bitter defeat at Ainharthar’s trial flooded the board with curses.

Up through Stage 9, even ordinary players could scrape their way through somehow. From Stage 10 onward, however, both the content and the difficulty changed completely. That was why so many players had no choice but to give up at Stage 10.

Talk of Randolph was always a hot potato on Player Talk. Naturally, plenty of players were curious about his entry into Stage 11.

An Abyss expedition was the kind of undertaking that staked a kingdom’s very fate. It demanded extreme caution and enormous resources. Even the Arhon Empire could not launch one on a whim. And when an expedition of that scale did form, people inevitably found out.

But recently, there had been no word whatsoever of any Abyss expedition being assembled.

Few people believed that Randolph, who operated alone or with only a tiny handful of companions, could successfully clear the Abyss. No matter how strong he was, Abyss conquest had its limits. The Abyss was a place of endless variables. To endure there long enough to reach its Lord required countless sacrifices.

“Should I borrow Pride’s hand?”

In a dark room, Lucifer stood before the Corrupted Angel Statue of blackened wings, stroking his chin in thought.

The Hero Association faced an unprecedented crisis. Ordinary methods would not resolve this. The only figure who came to mind was Pride — King Fredrick.

But he immediately shook his head.

That one would only try to devour us instead.

The moment he sensed weakness, he would come running like a wolf to tear them apart. The second they sought his aid, he would drag them into freefall.

If there’s another way… it’s only this.

Lucifer gazed at the Corrupted Angel Statue.

The reward for Main Quest 11.

This Corrupted Angel Statue was what he had obtained by clearing the Abyss — seized after recording first place in the Hall of Fame. If he used it, he might be able to break through the current situation.

And yet he hesitated. That much was true.

…Once used, it can never be used again.

That was why he had saved it all this time. The divinity sealed inside the Corrupted Angel Statue was the real thing. Only the first-place holder of Main Quest Stage 11 could possess it. The moment he dropped to second place, the divinity would vanish.

Which made the dilemma all the sharper.

If Randolph surpasses my score, the divinity of the Corrupted Angel Statue will pass to him.

Randolph had taken first place in every Main Quest from Stage 1 through 10, rewriting every record and establishing an overwhelming presence. But Stage 11 was different. The Abyss was no joke. Even the Prince of Vanity that Lucifer himself had slain had required a full-scale expedition that accepted massive losses — and succeeded only through luck.

The Abyss was not a place Randolph, who had virtually no faction behind him, could handle. Even if he possessed some force Lucifer had failed to identify, it would make no difference. Randolph killing an Abyss Lord greater than the Prince of Vanity was impossible.

……He cannot surpass me.

Yes. He cannot. That was the natural order of things.

Lucifer denied it with force. Then, slowly, he raised his hand and carefully caressed the surface of the angel statue.