At this moment, Trier was already suffering a god-descending-level catastrophe.
If he further used the Calamity Seal to draw down the power of the City of Calamity Sefirah on top of that, who could guarantee that an even greater disaster wouldn't arrive?
After all, that Sefirah corresponded to "destructive cataclysm, the primordial calamity."
That symbolism was not an exaggeration.
Even more importantly, the Calamity Seal was also heavily tainted by the power of the Unknown.
Throwing it into this Door—this Door, Roselle constructed by imitating the Night Emperor and Mr. Door—could easily cause an unexpected chain reaction…
And according to what he had cognized, simply throwing in an item stained with Sefirah aura might not be enough to control the Sefirah power sealed behind the Gray Fog.
Meaning—whether Trier could be saved would depend entirely on luck.
Therefore, the optimal choice was someone who personally carried Sefirah contamination.
With that thought, Ebner hesitated no further.
He pulled out the Book of the Dead from Alvin's Question Maze, and simultaneously took a white card and inserted it into the slot on his belt.
A second later—passionate, blazing music burst forth:
"Transform!"
"Blessed Moment…
Supreme, Most Virtuous, Paramount, Almighty Death Archon—
Lord of the Dead!
Vicente Miranda!"
Dazzling pallid radiance erupted—
A tall figure clad in armor featuring phoenix-of-immortality and feathered-serpent motifs strode out from the gap of history and overlapped with Ebner.
The masked armor fully manifested on his body—
Announcing his return to the state of the Lord of the Dead.
Ebner had deliberately refrained from using another History Projection sigil during the earlier battles precisely for this moment—
To preserve spirituality.
He had already been supporting the Lilith-guided "Rhine" projection.
He could at most summon one more projection or execute one additional "Yesterday Reenactment" transformation.
The majestic armor made him appear monumental.
He cast a glance at the dumbfounded Madam Julia, took the Book of the Dead, and stepped into the Door.
.....
Above the White House, Trier
Temporarily empowered as the Knowledge Emperor, Bernadette looked down at the Abyssal shadow evading Rhine's strikes—almost as if unwilling to harm her.
Symbols—complex, illusory, arcane—flashed rapidly across her deep-blue eyes.
In moments—
She fabricated a legendary tale of a hero defeating the Abyss, vividly describing the hero using a holy sword to pierce it.
The shape, proportions, and design of that holy sword were identical to the ceremonial longsword Bernadette now held.
The fiction she crafted became knowledge, and that knowledge became power, flooding into the blade.
In that instant—
The ordinary ceremonial sword transformed into Holy Sword Bernadette, a weapon with anti-Abyss special properties.
But Bernadette did not wield it herself.
She handed it to Bornova.
She was self-aware—
Even though she had played a Battle Scholar before, she was fundamentally a mage-type Beyonder.
Charging at the Abyss with a sword?
Best leave that to her brother's close-combat mech.
Bornova accepted the Holy Sword Bernadette with perfect coordination.
Then, activating his Knowledge Magister abilities, he rewrote the fundamental combat logic of sword-class weapons—
Guaranteeing unavoidable hits, converting basic swings into rapid multi-hit, wide-area cleaves…
Only then did the humanoid mech swing the sword.
Instantly—
The endlessly expanding Abyss was pierced everywhere by radiant explosions.
Segments of reality, already partially eroded, began to slowly recover.
But nearby, Lilith—controlling "Rhine"—frowned.
Instead of attacking, she invoked her Creator abilities, spawning countless purifying lifeforms and dispersing them across the battlefield.
Sure enough—
From the Abyssal wound exploded an unending torrent of filth.
Anything it touched—person or object—turned instantly into a warped aberration, a servant of the Abyss.
Only the filth blocked by Lilith's purifying creations lost its corruptive force.
However—
The vessel Lilith was using was merely that of the Creator.
Her rate of creation could not match the rate at which filth surged outward.
She could hold it back for a time—but not much longer.
If nothing curbed the Abyss's spread, Trier truly would fall.
Bernadette, meanwhile, had already been struck by filth.
As the Knowledge Emperor, such light contamination barely affected her—
But if too much is accumulated, cleansing would become impossible.
When her one-day Knowledge Emperor state expired, she might plunge straight into demonhood.
"Farbauti's power is as vile as ever… and just as unavoidable.
He loves driving the Abyss to corrupt all things while he hides in the deepest layer.
Unless a true deity intervenes, there is no stopping it."
Lilith's expression radiated disgust.
Bernadette didn't know who Ebner had summoned from history, but hearing Lilith's words, she couldn't help asking:
"Your Highness… is there truly no other way?"
Signs of demonification spread across her shoulders.
Bornova's mech, realizing it could not withstand the corruption much longer, had abandoned attacking and instead protected the retreating Machinery Hivemind squad.
Lilith spoke:
"In fact… the summoning of the Abyss is not yet complete.
The Abyss has not fully entered reality.
As long as we eliminate the medium, we can forcibly drive it back."
Her gaze shifted toward Tulip Central Avenue—
Toward the hundreds of thousands of motionless protestors.
Their extreme emotional turbulence—rage, despair, fury—
They were the medium through which the Prime Minister summoned the Abyss.
Yaldabaoth—and even Prime Minister Charlie Delien—never expected the western plan to succeed.
Their true operation centered on this enormous protest.
Of course, Yaldabaoth likely had other objectives—
Otherwise he would not have "accidentally" spoken so loudly earlier, letting Ebner Cognize everything.
Only by killing these protestors could the Abyss's descent be interrupted.
But…
But the reason Bernadette resisted was to save them.
She bit her lip.
Her heart trembled violently.
But she forced herself calm—
Because in that brief emotional stir, filth had surged into her psyche.
If she wavered again, even the rank of Knowledge Emperor would not save her.
Just as she was about to make the most painful decision—
A mass of gray-white fog rose from the hollow of the Arc de Triomphe behind the White House.
The 50-meter-tall, 45-meter-wide, 15-meter-thick monument shuddered.
The fog condensed into a massive phantom stone stele.
Atop the stele stood a long-bodied bronze bird statue, its wings covered with pale symbols.
On the stele's face, glyphs derived from the Tongue of the Dead formed two enigmatic lines:
"Even gods cannot escape."
"Even death shall be detained."
At the moment this phantom stele appeared—
The ever-expanding Abyss abruptly froze—
Then rapidly contracted toward the White House.
But then—
The stele dissolved.
And from the Arch stepped a tall armored figure.
He raised one finger—
And a straight, wide, colorless, phantom river—
The River of Eternal Darkness—
burst forth from the Door.
It surged through the wound carved by Holy Sword Bernadette—
And flooded directly into the Abyss.
(End of Chapter )