In the dark temple, the thick darkness seemed almost tangible, surging like a tide, engulfing everything within, while the Fierce Goddess yelled upwards, disregarding her image.
"Father! Brothers! Sisters! Help! If you don't save me soon, I'll catch the plague! You wouldn't want to see me go home all crazy and deranged!"
Her voice turned into palpable sound waves, spreading outward from her as the center. The dome of the temple trembled from her shout, and the Silent Fog Nightmares clinging to the stone pillars were scattered.
The body of a god, especially the vocal cords, must have some sort of mystique; the Fierce Goddess's yelling could even pierce through the temple, shattering the dense clouds she summoned and reaching the sky.
The broken clouds were dispersed like cotton batting blown by the wind.
The moon revealed itself once more.
Allowing certain presences' vision to become clear again.
"Is that even possible?"
Even Riddle, who was being lifted, was surprised; even the Little Wizard found his worldview shattered by the Fierce Goddess's actions, which were completely different from the adventures he had imagined would involve walking alongside a deity.
How could it involve panic and bringing in reinforcements... And even if bringing in reinforcements is a thing, shouldn't you say something more cultured like "Father! Please hear my call, save me from this endless darkness!"
Screaming for help to save her life, what kind of goddess is this? Ian felt he learned a bit more about his contract partner, no wonder the Fierce Goddess, after her death, could hang out with Dementors.
"Boom!!!"
A massive commotion erupted outside the temple; it goes to show that carrying weight and influence when out there is essential, and the Fierce Goddess's actions truly validated that statement's value.
Just see.
Amidst the Fierce Goddess's shouting, the moonlight after the clouds dispersed didn't last long, as the originally bright moon only remained for a few seconds.
The moonlight dimmed quickly as it reached its peak, followed immediately by a dazzling sun being pushed through the clouds by an invisible hand, rocketing into the sky with incredible speed, the transition from night to day so swift, the blinding golden light swallowed the silvery glow, as if the order of stars were twisted at that moment.
The mighty power of gods is terrifying indeed. A strong golden beam descended straight from the sun, penetrating the dome of the temple, like an almighty blade that cleaves the heavens and the earth.
Carrying endless heat and dignity.
The shields set up by the Priests were like decorations.
The beam precisely struck the Silent Fog Nightmares closing in on the Fierce Goddess, shrill and ear-piercing screams filled the air as they were effortlessly blasted away by this overwhelming force.
Riddle, held aloft by the Fierce Goddess, was treated as a foreign object and expelled as well, but luckily, he only crashed into a pillar and coughed up blood.
Compared to his condition,
Many Silent Fog Nightmares closer to the Fierce Goddess suffered worse.
They disintegrated into dust.
Not even a scream managed to sound. Of course, as the Silent Fog Nightmares had already clung to Riddle's body, he didn't feel much pain. Under the unique ability of the Silent Fog Nightmares, Riddle only felt an eerie fog engulfing his brain and all his senses.
It was not ordinary fog but sickly grey-green. Within the mist, countless tiny particles seemed to move, wandering like living creatures. The surrounding air turned oppressively heavy, a cold chill climbing his spine, forcing Riddle to stop in his tracks involuntarily.
He looked around, seeing within the mist a mass of blurry black fog slowly coalescing, like a hidden abyssal door opening, releasing an ancient and evil aura.
That was the form of the Silent Fog Nightmare in the mental realm.
"Damn creatures!"
In a daze,
Riddle wanted to retreat.
Suddenly.
He felt he had backed into a solid wall. The Nightmare opened its vast invisible maw, swallowing Riddle whole, bringing him into a distorted yet familiar world—his past.
Riddle felt a stabbing pain at his temple as uncontrollable images flashed in his mind: the orphanage corridors, the frightened eyes of other children, the hanging rabbit.
"No!"
Riddle roared in the white mist, wanting to block these memories, but the fog completely surrounded him; the scenes began to distort and melt, like ink paintings tossed into water.
When Riddle once again could see his surroundings clearly, he found himself standing in a room of Wu Orphanage.
How could he forget that afternoon?
It was the summer of 1943, the stifling air causing suffocation. Eleven-year-old Tom Riddle stood in the center of the room, watching the tall man walk in—Albus Dumbledore.
This man effortlessly located the hidden "collection." Those toys taken from other children, Billy Stubbs' rabbit, Amy Benson's silver bracelet...
"Those things don't belong to you, Tom."
Dumbledore's voice was calm and firm, "I think it's time they returned to their owners."
Riddle wanted to retort, wanted to deny, but Dumbledore had already confiscated the items and raised his Magic Wand. A blue flame erupted from the wand's tip, engulfing the entire wardrobe instantly. The flame was cold, void of temperature, yet made Riddle feel burning heat all over.