A world of pure black.
"High Priest, let's wait just a little longer. We've already waited through countless ages. Everyone agrees that Gremlin must not interfere with the natural development of the human world."
A mature and sorrowful feminine voice, so beautiful it made one tear up just from hearing it, echoed through the pitch-black void. Lazy yet ethereal, it painted an image of an enchantress simply through its tone.
In this special phase where concepts blurred, caught between existence and nonexistence, no one could see where the voice came from—nor glimpse the figure behind it—but her voice transmitted clearly nonetheless.
"Besides, High Priest, have you truly thought through what effect our intervention in the real world would cause?"
Heh heh~
A dry, deep laugh—reminiscent of an owl's call perched atop a withered, bug-eaten tree branch.
"Apologies, apologies. I just get a little too excited when discovering a new individual with the potential to become a Magic God... And with the way the world is now—the complete collapse of the Roman Catholic Church, the sharp decline of magical forces in the real world—it's gone too far."
"Hoh~ What's the big deal? High Priest, didn't you also have your moment of doubt when ascending to the position of a Magic God? You nearly destroyed the world for it~"
The seductive voice elongated her words teasingly.
"Hmph, Nephthys! That's a false equivalency. I embraced the desire to save all beings, voluntarily undergoing the Sokushinbutsu rite. I starved myself into mummification—why? To create a Buddhist paradise on Earth where anyone could attain enlightenment!"
The aged voice clearly resented having his past compared to the worldly war waged for global interests.
"But the result..." The protest trailed off. The elder seemed to fall into memories of the time he became a Magic God, his stern words replaced by self-mockery. "The result..."
"The result was that I was denied Buddhahood for the absurd reason of temple politics. My grand vision became nothing but a fantasy. Without a name or role, I became a nameless Buddha, wandering the land. Pitiful, laughable... utterly ridiculous. Ridiculous! Humanity is absurd. The world is absurd!"
Within the elder's hoarse voice was an unmasked contempt for mankind. It brimmed with anger—and perhaps pity.
"Sometimes I wonder, if I chose to destroy humanity, would the world become more beautiful... or just more absurd?"
"But that's not possible. If the world ends, what happens to us? And High Priest, give it a rest. We've all heard your tales and grand ideals so often our ears have grown calluses."
"Let's talk about this instead—the girl named Selene. She defeated a pseudo-Magic God despite not possessing any magic of her own. How should we define that...? Let's call her a proto-Magic God."
Compared to the High Priest's overplayed lamentations, Nephthys—the owner of the seductive voice—clearly had greater interest in this topic.
"Hey hey hey! High Priest! Nephthys! What are you chatting about? Ehehe~ I think I heard the word 'Magic God'—do we have a new friend joining us? Is it little Othinus?"
Another voice joined the conversation.
This one sounded not just young, but childlike—a lively and innocent girl, her questions tumbling out one after the other. Clearly, she was the energetic type.
"Not her. But 'Niang-Niang,' where have you been?" the mature woman responded.
Ehehe~ "In this place, concepts like distance and time don't matter, right? No matter what, we can't leave. Even if we did, we'd only attract unwanted attention on a global scale. This is a place where even a paper-thin distance becomes infinitely far away~"
"So then, what about the others?"
"Old man, have you become forgetful since turning into a mummy? The 'Zombie' girl, little 'Chimera'—everyone's here, you know. But in a place where even the distance of a single hair strand stretches into infinity, meeting is purely a matter of luck~"
The lively, childlike voice bubbled with excitement. "Back to the topic—are we talking about a new Magic God? Who is it?!"
"Niang-Niang, you really should pay more attention to what's going on in the real world," said the dry, raspy voice after a pause. "She doesn't quite qualify as a Magic God yet. Selene... hmm?"
Not just the shriveled old man, the seductive mature woman, and the playful young girl—every supreme being slumbering in the darkness reacted at the same moment.
This space, which did not exist anywhere in the world, had been invaded?
By whom?
"Members of Gremlin. I've finally found you."
Crack crack crack crack crack crack crack—!
Darkness shattered.
An external force split it vertically apart.
Buzz—!
Blinding white light streamed in from outside, driving away the darkness and illuminating the forms of the Magic Gods.
A frail elder with grayish skin, black sclera and green irises, garbed in a purple robe adorned with pure gold. A flaming collar rose behind his head. In his hand, he held a golden sword resembling a cane. He looked like a venerable monk radiating boundless compassion—but for a monk, his attire was far too extravagant.
A seductive, mature woman with chocolate-colored skin and waist-length silver hair. Beneath her mesmerizing heterochromatic eyes were two tear streaks. Her naked body was loosely wrapped in pure white bandages—like a mummy unearthed from an ancient Egyptian pyramid. But unlike dried corpses, this mummy was very much alive. The bandages were carelessly draped, more suggestive than concealing, amplifying her allure.
A petite young girl with black hair and green eyes, dressed in a white qipao modified so boldly one could mistake it for a modern club outfit—extremely short skirt and oversized sleeves. Most of her skin was exposed. What could be seen through the white fabric was eerily pale and purple, like the ghostly hue of a hanged corpse in Chinese folklore. She wore a feathered headdress and a special talisman on her forehead.
More reminiscent of a zombie than an immortal, that was the impression she left.
In the next instant, within this space where a single hair's width could stretch into infinity—whoosh whoosh—!
A girl covered head-to-toe in stitch marks arrived silently. A woman whose body was composed of lion, goat, and serpent-like monstrous traits appeared. A shirtless young man with silver prosthetic limbs and tribal tattoos crashed down.
The supreme beings cast curious gazes at the intruder who dared step into the divine realm.
Yes—curious.
The Magic Gods held no animosity toward this unexpected guest. On the contrary, they were amused. In this timeless, isolated space, finally—some entertainment.
"I was just mumbling to myself how I hadn't seen you in a while. So this is the kind of touching side hustle you've been working on... Scientific magic, the holy right hand of the fated savior, the legacy of Christianity, and those absurd, inexplicable angels..."
The raspy, aged voice sounded. Though distance had no meaning here, visually, the withered elder closest to him tapped his cane-like sword onto the boundless void with a clang. In a tone that sounded like reminiscing over a familiar name, he said:
"Human magician—Edward Alexander Crowley."
The magician with silver hair flowing to his heels and dressed in a green surgical gown showed no emotion—neither joy, anger, nor sorrow. His voice was mechanical as he replied:
"Converting coordinates composed entirely of non-existent digits into decimal form... It really is possible."
Still adapting to the rules of this special phase, Aleister didn't pause. He focused on the void before him, extracting every bit of data he needed, converting it into pure formulas and numbers, transforming even the tiniest scrap into advantageous data for himself.
This was Aleister's first time seeing complete Magic Gods. Plural.
That meant their safe haven was compromised.
They would now be forced into the real world, chased by its inhabitants.
As he watched the black curtain of this world slowly unravel, Aleister quietly contemplated his next moves.
He still needed another layer of means to weaken them.
Aleister was fully aware that he was exploiting the Magic Gods' unwillingness to destroy the real world.
Because there was only one real world, the birthplace of all beings. Total destruction wasn't just unthinkable—it was undesirable to the Magic Gods themselves.
Otherwise, they wouldn't have secluded themselves in this special phase they named the "Hidden World."
Aleister raised his tightly clenched left hand high. A silver-white wand shaped like a spiral tower radiated a brilliant light—one brighter than anything before—as if to fully illuminate the disintegrating Hidden World.
For the first time, the Blasting Rod revealed its true brilliance.
An auxiliary spell that applied the "Spiritual Restraint" technique, capable of amplifying magical power tenfold in line with the target's perception. This was Aleister's trump card, his secret technique that let a mere mortal face down Magic Gods.
"Spiritual Restraint" and the Blasting Rod were originally the signature skills of Aleister's teacher, Allan Bennett. They were later passed on to Aleister himself.
"Spiritual Restraint" was a magic that forcibly projected one's meditation image into the observer's mind. It caused damage to the target based on what they themselves imagined.
It must be noted—Magic Gods, who had reached the pinnacle of magical study and deification, possessed unfathomable knowledge and boundless imagination incomprehensible to mortals.
What impact would the destruction of the Hidden World have on future plans?
The Magic Gods continued watching Aleister's actions with great interest. What was arguably the strongest strike in the real world—unique and unparalleled—looked to them like a circus monkey's act: amusing at best. They were already mulling over where to nap, laze about, or play after the Hidden World vanished.
"Your idea of eradicating all magic really is extreme."
The elaborately dressed and withered elder, "High Priest," bared his yellowed teeth—enough to terrify children. Like an old friend reunited, he spoke casually, seemingly without hostility.
"A scientific Magic God replacing a magical one—that's your vision? Forgive me, I'm an outsider, but I must say, it's an eye-opening idea. With such intense conviction, if only it were directed toward the right goal, you might even qualify to join Gremlin."
In other words, you still possess the potential to become a Magic God.
"Your so-called 'correct direction' is not my direction."
Aleister bluntly cut off the Magic God "High Priest" mid-sentence—signaling that...
Fish of the Supper!
Within the special phase separated from the real world by just a paper-thin barrier yet unreachable across eternity—
RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE—!!!
...
As if a god had given a decree to the world, the moment Aleister activated the divine incantation within the Hidden World, the world instantly responded to his command.
The boundless sky, like a torn and tattered curtain, was slashed open. The once-multicolored light screen in the heavens all lit up.
The violet starry sky—symbol of the arcane world—gradually turned orange.
Centered around the fully angelified body of Fiamma of the Right, the original sky began to fracture, and the cracks spread rapidly.
The scope of this transformation... was the entire world.
At the same time, across the globe, crowds once rioting against the Roman Catholic Church—driven by outrage—suddenly experienced dizzying, painful waves of disorientation.
Corresponding with that came a miraculous golden glow—as if sacred murals from church walls had been lifted into the sky. Both heaven and earth were dyed a strange golden hue.
The color of burning dawn engulfed the skies.
"'Holy Right' activated. 'Star of Bethlehem' angelic ritual initiated. 'Fish of the Supper'..."
With her hand placed on the chest of Fiamma of the Right's body—transformed into a global ritual anchor by the Star of Bethlehem—Selene provided Aleister with strategic support. At the same time, her emerald eyes glowed faintly with luminescence.
"How intense... But the Gremlin of the real world should be showing up soon."
Selene had seen the Magic Gods.
To be honest, they truly lived up to the name Magic Gods—none looked like benevolent deities.
Look at them: wailing ghosts, howling winds, mummies, zombies, stitched-up horrors... What even were these things? It was full-on underworld aesthetic.
Tch~
Especially that zombie girl—with her floral crest headdress and that special talisman pasted on her forehead—Selene frowned slightly as she watched, shaking her head in mild disappointment.
"Looking at it this way... you're still the one who suits my tastes the most."
Selene's sudden comment left the trio—who were just crowding around the white-haired little nun—utterly dumbfounded.
Was there someone else?
The next moment, a woman's voice echoed from thin air—sending chills down all three of their spines.
"You... know me?"
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