In the dead of night, across the vast lands of Busalet, while tens of thousands who had suffered from the Withering Plague cheered in gratitude for their miraculous recovery, one prolonged battle was still being fought in a remote desert where few ever tread. But at last, this struggle was reaching its conclusion.

High in the sky—over a kilometer above the ground—Amuyaba, in the form of a grotesque giant insect, beat its massive wings as it soared through thick spore clouds under the night sky. Though it had briefly fallen into a state of spiritual disarray earlier, it had now recovered and was preparing to once again launch itself at the distant steel warship.

Amuyaba still didn’t know why its immense spiritual supply—previously drawn from the plague—had suddenly been cut off. But it had already stockpiled a tremendous amount of spirituality. Even without the external flow, its current spiritual reserves were still many times greater than its normal state.

With that much spirituality backing it, Amuyaba wasn’t about to give up. After all, it had gained the upper hand against Ivy in the prior clashes by leveraging the plague’s spiritual power. Ivy had suffered damage. To abandon the battle now would be a waste.

What’s more… perhaps “Her Excellency” was still watching. Amuyaba had been entrusted with such overwhelming power—it wouldn’t dare flee in disgrace.

Thus, wrapped in dense spore mist and still brimming with strength, Amuyaba charged toward the steel warship. Its target was clear: the port side—where Ivy had been hit by a spore bomb earlier. That was her vulnerable flank.

Earlier, Ivy had exposed that weakness in order to retrieve the returning Vania. The left-side close-in defense systems had been corroded and rendered inoperable, some of the thrusters damaged, and the propulsion system partially compromised. Maneuverability had dropped, defense had weakened, and firepower on that side had visibly thinned.

Amuyaba darted straight toward that weak point. The energy barrage from Ivy’s port side was too feeble to stop it. Sparse plasma fire pierced the mist and struck its carapace but inflicted only minor wounds—quickly healed—causing no real harm.

“It’s coming. Sister Vania, please prepare yourself…”

Inside the vast chapel within the steel giant, Ivy’s translucent avatar addressed the white-robed nun with gravity. Vania nodded.

“I know. We no longer need to be troubled by it.”

Standing calmly at the center of the sacred ritual array, bathed in a faint, gentle radiance, Vania smiled.

Though her body had undergone subtle changes after undergoing the sacred immersion ritual at Holy Mount, she had spent nearly a year in the pseudo-history world without aging. Physically, she remained unchanged. Yet her bearing had matured—serene, dignified, and holy. To Ivy, it felt as if she had become someone else.

Facing the incoming monster cloaked in spore clouds, Vania extended her hand toward it. Though the fog obscured the view, she could sense Amuyaba’s grotesque form clearly.

In the blink of an eye, the massive green spore cloud enveloping Amuyaba reached Ivy’s flank. Its enormous scythe-like pincer rose high and slashed down toward the already-damaged section of the ship, poised to cleave a gaping wound into the hull.

Ivy’s few remaining close-in defense cannons fired rapidly at the attacking limb. Their shots landed but dealt only superficial damage—nowhere near enough to stop the attack.

At that moment, Vania opened her eyes. A wave of invisible force burst forth from her. All the small wounds scattered across Amuyaba’s pincer—caused by the earlier cannon fire—suddenly worsened. What were once shallow abrasions tore open into massive gashes.

In an instant, those centimeter-long scratches ballooned into wounds several meters—dozens of meters—long. The once-formidable pincer became riddled with grotesque ruptures and structural damage. It couldn’t withstand the strain—and exploded—splattering thick yellowish-white fluid in all directions.

Minor wounds had become catastrophic under Vania’s mystical power. One of Amuyaba’s pincers was destroyed entirely. It howled in pain, its attack missing Ivy entirely. Still unwilling to yield, it swung its second pincer—but it too was soon covered in fine cracks under Ivy’s suppressive fire. And once again, under that same invisible power, the cracks burst wide—reducing the limb to pulp and fragments.

It didn’t stop there. Other injuries across Amuyaba’s body began to rapidly worsen. Massive lesions bloomed everywhere, forcing it to cry out in agony and retreat from Ivy. Only then did it realize—the closer it got to her, the stronger this curse became. Only by fleeing could it weaken the effect.

“What’s going on? Why does that steel bitch suddenly have this kind of power?!”

Flying away in a panic, Amuyaba thought desperately. It began burning its remaining spirituality to accelerate healing. But it quickly ran into another problem.

Its regeneration wasn’t working properly. Wounds that should have healed were now sprouting gigantic necrotic tumors and rotting flesh. Some mysterious force was interfering with the process. While tissue was technically regenerating, it wasn’t “healthy” flesh—it was masses of grotesque aberrations.

Abscesses, lumps, tumors, and meat warts erupted across its body in horrifying clusters—growing larger and denser. The lost pincers should have regenerated into new, hardened chitinous blades. Instead, two enormous pale-white tentacles sprouted—soft, limp, incapable of motion, swaying uselessly in the wind. Combined with the rest of the grotesque growths, Amuyaba became even more revolting.

“What is this?! What’s happening to my body?!”

Amuyaba panicked at the sight of its own deformities. It still didn’t know, beyond Ivy, another Crimson-rank force was actively opposing it. Within the chapel of the distant steel vessel, a white-robed nun stood solemnly—gazing in its direction. Her pupils shimmered faintly with golden light.

“Do not think you can save yourself with spirituality you plundered...” Vania whispered.

The abrupt worsening of Amuyaba’s wounds—followed by the grotesque regeneration—were both her doing. They were the powers of a Crimson-rank Beyonder, the Merciful Holy Envoy.

Wound Amplification—one of the Merciful Holy Envoy’s abilities—caused all injuries, great or small, fresh or old, to rapidly deteriorate within her range. A scratch could become a fatal wound. That was how she had neutralized both of Amuyaba’s pincers: minor cannon burns, magnified into irrecoverable damage.

And the regeneration failure? That was from her long-practiced ability: Malignant Healing. An offensive skill that corrupted wounds, causing grotesque regeneration. It was extremely effective against Beyonders with rapid physical regeneration.

Vania had learned it back in her Black Earth days, but back then, it only worked through direct contact. Now, as a Crimson, she could project it at range—over vast distances. It functioned like a curse, requiring no trajectory—so long as the target was within range and detectable, it would take effect.

Wound Amplification plus Malignant Healing—just these two techniques alone allowed Vania to completely shatter Amuyaba’s offensive and regenerative edge. Of course, this power was also amplified by the sacred temple aboard Ivy’s vessel.

With its healing thwarted, the monstrous insect let out a piercing shriek, flapping its wings and fleeing with its cloud of spores. It had clearly realized things were going very wrong—and was now trying to escape.

“Sister Ivy… strike it down. Use your full firepower.”

Seeing this, Vania gave the order. Ivy nodded and seriously adjusted the ship’s cannons—locking on to the fleeing Amuyaba.

With a thunderous roar, several of the ship's cannons along the port side fired simultaneously. This time, the barrage wasn’t just gleaming energy shells—solid shells were being deployed again, for the first time in a long while.

The shells Ivy fired quickly flew with precision toward the fleeing Amuyaba. As the dense, solid rounds pierced through the spore mist surrounding its body, a gentle golden glow suddenly shimmered over the already blazing-hot projectiles. Under this divine radiance, the shells passed through the fog uncorroded and struck Amuyaba’s body directly, penetrating deep before detonating in a violent explosion.

BOOM!

Under the devastating force of these specialized solid shells—designed specifically for killing large biological targets—Amuyaba’s hundred-meter-long insect form was shattered from the inside out into countless fragments, which rained down from the sky like a dark drizzle. With just this one salvo of solid rounds, Ivy utterly obliterated Amuyaba’s aerial form.

Toxic-Banishing Blessing—this was one of the abilities Vania possessed as the Merciful Holy Envoy. It allowed her to bestow a transcendent protection upon herself and her allies, shielding them from a wide array of physical and certain spiritual “abnormal interferences.” The blessing precisely identified and repelled harmful materials like sewage, toxic gas, pathogens, and so on—greatly reducing their effects on the protected target.

This blessing wasn’t limited to living beings—it could be applied to weapons as well. Though its effect on non-living objects wasn’t as powerful, it was still significant. Just now, Vania had blessed Ivy’s shells, granting them resistance to the spore mist and enabling them to penetrate it cleanly.

With one salvo of solid shells, Ivy pulverized Amuyaba’s monstrous form—but neither she nor Vania believed this was the end.

As Amuyaba’s giant insect body disintegrated, Vania cast her gaze downward—as if her eyes could pierce through the ship’s floors and see the undulating sea of spore clouds below. She could feel it: beneath that fog, on the land cloaked by it, and deep within the earth, there were still vast abnormal spiritual lifeforms stirring.

Just as when they first clashed with Amuyaba, it would never stake everything on a single form in a frontal assault. Even though the carefully-crafted flying insect body had been destroyed, it had surely left behind many "backups"—both above and below ground.

“The surface… and underground… that swarm it turned into… the spore mist it laid here is far too thick. Even if I bless your shells, they likely won’t last long beneath that fog…”

Sensing the vast expanse of spores below, Vania spoke solemnly. Ivy replied frankly.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got more than just shells—I’ve got a way to deal with it… and I don’t need to fear the fog.”

What she meant, of course, was her main cannon—long since charged and ready. When fired, it wouldn’t matter how dense the fog was.

“Sister Vania, I’ll be ready in a moment.”

“Understood… leave it to me,” Vania answered seriously.

She began using her powers to carefully scan the surface and underground.

And sure enough—within a hollowed-out cavern underground, Vania found several hatching eggs.

She remembered these eggs—they were used by Amuyaba to hatch its escape insects. Back when it transformed one into the giant flying bug to fight Ivy, it had already begun laying more as backups underground, supported by massive spirituality. Even now, as its aerial form was destroyed, a few escape bugs had already hatched.

These escape insects were, in a sense, the nerve centers of the swarm—the distributed “brains” that let Amuyaba persist. As long as some remained, Amuyaba would not truly die.

With the aid of the temple’s amplification, Vania saw that more than 300 such eggs remained, and around 20–30 had already hatched. The rest were on the verge of emerging.

Refocusing herself, Vania extended her abilities—boosted by the temple—and cast her Malignant Healing upon the unhatched eggs. As they accelerated toward hatching, she twisted their development, corrupting their final moments inside the shells. When they emerged, they were deformed—missing limbs, malformed, unable to move. They writhed on the ground, letting out weak, screeching cries.

“I’ve dealt with most of those escape bugs… but a few got away early,” Vania reported.

Ivy nodded.

“That’s fine. As long as too many didn’t slip out at once, I can hunt them down later. Once I finish up here, I’ll take care of the rest…”

As she spoke, Ivy began tilting her hull—aligning the ship’s prow, and the gaping mouth of her main cannon, toward the ground. Even within the chapel, Vania could sense the vast spirituality gathering at the muzzle.

The moment of the main cannon's firing was near.

Now scattered and malformed, with many escape bugs unable to move, Amuyaba grew anxious. It threw the last of its spiritual reserves into a desperate gamble.

With a deep rumble, the ground beneath the spore fog began to tremble. Massive cracks split open—and from these fissures, swarms of flying insects burst forth like a tidal wave, rushing toward the sky.

A closer look revealed them to be spore bomb bugs—fat, sac-laden insectoids. Swarming upward from the earth, they formed thick black pillars, billowing into a vast dark cloud.

To delay Ivy’s cannon and buy time to hatch more escape insects, Amuyaba poured all its remaining spirituality into mass-producing spore bomb bugs and ordered them to attack in a single overwhelming wave.

Obeying Amuyaba’s will, the swarm rose like a sandstorm—blasting into the sky from the green fog and launching a full assault on the hovering steel warship.

Compared to escape bugs, spore bomb bugs required less time and spiritual cost to hatch. With such massive investment, their numbers were terrifying. From Ivy’s deck, it looked like a black “ocean” rising from the mist, surging toward her position. Each of these bugs had the ability to self-detonate.

Naturally, Ivy unleashed full close-in defense firepower—guns blazing, flak bursting—ripping apart swathes of the oncoming swarm. Exploding bugs burst into clouds of floating spores.

Yet there were simply too many. Like waves crashing, they pushed through the barrage, steadily advancing.

Ideally, Ivy should’ve maneuvered away—these insects weren’t fast fliers. But she was already in the critical phase of firing her main cannon. The auxiliary rituals were fully engaged—any sudden evasive movement would compromise the entire firing sequence.

And so, the spore bomb swarm drew close. Her port side, damaged earlier, became the weakest point. Bugs flooded in from that angle, accelerating toward the ship, preparing to explode at close range.

Just as the lead bug reached Ivy’s hull—its body swelling, on the verge of self-detonation—a miracle occurred.

Light. A soft orange-yellow glow radiated from Ivy’s hull, bathing the bugs in gentle warmth. Upon exposure, the grotesque insects abruptly halted. The expected detonations never came. They simply hovered in place.

“The Lord once said: whether small… vile… or broken… all are forms of life. All possess purpose. And if they are alive, then they are worthy of redemption…”

Within the chapel, Vania stood in a posture of prayer, bathed in the gentle light, murmuring words she remembered from the Holy Scripture.

“Lowly little creatures… though you lack soul and spirit, you are still life. And all life holds meaning. Your meaning is not self-destruction. You have the right, like all living things, to experience the beauty of this world.

“Now… follow my guidance. I shall bring you redemption.”

As her voice faded, a power imbued with the concept of Redemption spread from her.

The spore bomb bugs—born to die—were touched by a mysterious salvation. Their bodies began to transform. The swollen sacs deflated. Their twisted forms normalized. They lost their ability to self-destruct, and with it, the mental shackles that bound them to Amuyaba’s will. One by one, they broke free.

They became ordinary flying insects. They escaped their destined extinction. They were redeemed.

Then, these liberated bugs turned back—facing their former comrades who continued to swarm. They began to resist, even attack them.

Though not intelligent, they were now guided by a single pure emotion: gratitude. They would repay the one who saved them—before moving on to a new life.

Under Ivy’s intense firepower, under Vania’s radiant blessing, and under the efforts of the redeemed bugs, the monstrous swarm was stopped in its tracks. A red line was drawn—and it could not be crossed.

And finally… Ivy’s main cannon was ready.

“Holy Steel Vessel: Nun of Final Judgment, Purifying Light of Sin Annihilation—charging complete. Bombardment mode. Fire—”

Atop the spire bridge, Ivy stared coldly at the sea of bugs and spores below.

Then—a blazing white-gold beam, brighter than the sun, erupted from the ship’s bow.

It pierced through the swarm and fog alike.

And then, upon the land below, a divine radiance brighter than daylight erupted—swallowing all.

The sea of insects, the sea of spores—all vanished, consumed by the light of annihilation.