Gospel of Blood-Chapter 660 : The Descent of the Origin

Elven Holy City, Central Sanctuary.

The gods gathered in the council chamber. Divine might surged through the hall, colliding forces churning like a storm on the brink of eruption.

At this moment, the elven pantheon was riven by a severe schism.

On one side—led by Pallas, the God of Wisdom and Art, and Artemis, the Moon Goddess—were more than two-thirds of the deities, their faces a mixture of anger, gloom, and disappointment.

On the other side stood only a few gods, led by Helios, the Sun God, and Mars, the God of War. The two factions confronted one another sharply.

“No—absolutely not! Elder Brother, this is blasphemy against the Mother Goddess. I will never allow you to commit such sacrilege!”

Moon Goddess Artemis trembled with rage, staring at Helios in disappointment and fury. Her clear, ethereal voice had taken on a sharp edge.

“Why not?”

Mars, the God of War, frowned.

“The Mother Goddess has never forbidden us from ascending higher. If we can advance further, we may draw closer to Her and hear Her teachings.”

“That’s right. Lord Helios has already found the key to the supreme realm. If we can take one more step, we can make all the gods of Myria submit completely!”

“This power was personally bestowed upon Lord Helios by the Mother Goddess herself—it is clearly something She tacitly permits. Everyone, don’t you wish to see the elves ascend to true supremacy?”

The two elven gods standing beside Helios spoke one after another.

At the center of all gazes—the focus of everything—Helios sat calmly. Around his fingers coiled a thread of pale divine power, exuding an aura that made even gods’ hearts tremble.

The opposing elven myths looked at the power at Helios’s fingertips with deep apprehension. The God of Harvest and Celebration, Kris, was furious.

“Absurd! This is clearly the evil divine power of those aberrant Myria gods! You—are you trying to blaspheme the divine?!”

“Evil divine power?” one replied coolly.

“Lord Kris, look more carefully. This is a power of a higher order than our own—a power of creation! Do not forget that although the Old Gods of Myria have fallen, they are still descendants of the Creator God. This power is inherently the Mother Goddess’s power!”

“Foolish! Utterly foolish! You have already had your eyes clouded by this evil force! Open your eyes and look properly—how could such power possibly be our Lord’s divine might?!”

“Heh. Lady Artemis, this is merely the limitation of your own understanding. No wonder your strength has never been able to catch up to Lord Helios. Our Lord is the supreme Creator; the gods of the Eastern and Western Continents are merely evolutions of the positive and negative aspects of Her power. We have simply received Her power bestowed upon the Eastern Continent. Or could it be… that you believe there are two Creator Gods?”

“I… I… in any case…! Creation divine power is the Mother Goddess’s authority! And the Mother Goddess’s power is absolutely not like this!”

“Heh… pedantic.”

“You—!”

The elven gods argued until their faces were flushed, nearly coming to blows.

Only when Pallas, the God of Wisdom and Art, spread his vast divine might did the hall fall silent.

“Enough!”

The earliest god of the elven race looked at the composed Helios with a complicated expression, weariness evident on his face.

His gaze sharpened suddenly, his voice turning solemn.

“Helios—tell me the truth. What is it you truly intend to do?”

Helios raised his head. His golden pupils were filled with a holy indifference, devoid of emotion.

“I am merely acting according to our Lord’s will. The supreme realm—when has our Lord ever forbidden us from climbing toward it?”

Pallas’s expression grew ever more complex.

He stared at Helios for a long moment, then sighed with fatigue.

“Your power is already the strongest among us.”

“What you intend to do—no one here can truly stop you.”

“I only hope that you… still remember our Lord’s teachings, and remember… your original intent…”

……

One hundred years later.

A colossal tower, forged entirely from sun-gold stone and inscribed with countless elven runes, tore through the clouds and reached the high heavens.

This was the Stair of Creation, the Tower that Reaches the Sky—constructed by the Sun God Helios using his divine blood as a medium over the course of eighty years.

Beneath the tower’s foundation, more than seventy percent of the Western Continent’s leyline energy was forcibly extracted, forming visible golden vortices that coiled around the tower. Even the air crystallized under the oppressive density of magic.

Tens of thousands of elven believers knelt beneath the tower, faces alight with fanatic fervor, praying day and night for the Origin’s blessing.

These were the Origin faithful who had grown explosively across the Western Continent over the past decades.

By today, nearly half of the elven population—without realizing it—had come to regard the Origin as supreme.

And today, they had all gathered here, awaiting the thrilling miracle to come.

At the altar atop the tower, Helios stood clad in golden divine robes, holy and majestic.

He spread his arms, a blazing solar sigil flashing incessantly upon his chest.

Around him stood twelve elven gods who supported him, their faces fervent, positioned at four cardinal points, forming a vast faith network that condensed divine power.

The God of War, Mars, burned with excitement. Pale divine power swirled in his eyes, though his gaze had grown somewhat muddled.

“If we succeed, we will all transcend myth and rewrite the order of all things.”

Murmuring to himself, he glanced warily toward the gods outside the tower and sneered as he deployed defensive divine arts.

Outside the tower—

The elven myths who opposed Helios gathered together, their faces livid as they watched Helios and his supporters above.

Yet sensing the overwhelming divine power far beyond their own, they were helpless.

“He’s gone mad… He actually dares to use that tower to draw in the Origin, attempting to ascend to the supreme!”

Kris clenched his divine staff so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Blasphemy! This is naked blasphemy! It will surely provoke the Mother Goddess’s wrath!”

The elven myths seethed with indignation.

Only the Moon Goddess Artemis and another god—whose face resembled that of an octopus—stood silently in the void.

That octopus-faced god was the stranded octopus once saved by Artemis and Helios long ago.

Possessing astonishing talent, it had ascended to demigodhood seventy years prior, taken the name Oceanus, and pledged itself to the elven race. Recognized by the elven pantheon as the God of the Sea, it leveraged the faith of oceanic life to leap into true godhood as a newly risen deity of the elven pantheon.

“Artemis… I—I feel something is wrong. Will Lord Helios truly succeed? I can’t shake this sense of unease…”

Oceanus spoke with concern, gazing at the figure atop the tower.

Artemis remained silent.

She stared at the tower, her silver eyes reflecting the golden figure, her emotions unreadable.

“By the sun as crown, by the stars as steps—O great Creator Lord, your loyal descendant humbly prays for your divine grace—!”

Atop the tower, Helios chanted fervently.

As his voice resounded in all directions, a golden pillar of light burst forth from the tower’s core, shooting straight into the heavens.

In an instant, heaven and earth changed!

Blinding radiance erupted. Pale mist spread from all corners of the continent, then surged like a tide toward the tower.

Wherever it passed, forests withered and rivers evaporated.

Beneath the tower, tens of thousands of elves smiled serenely.

They opened their arms, transforming into golden motes of light that were gradually devoured by the tower!

Witnessing this, the distant elven gods’ expressions changed drastically.

“Plunder…! This is energy plunder!”

“Corruption…! There’s corruption of will as well!”

“This is absolutely not the Mother Goddess’s power! This isn’t an ascension ritual—it’s a conspiracy to seize power!”

“No—quickly… we must stop him!”

The elven gods moved to act.

But in the next moment, an aura that made even gods tremble spread out—bearing incomparable pressure—pinning all the elven myths who attempted to intervene firmly in place…

And then—

The sky split open.

High above, a colossal pale eye, vast as a plane itself, suddenly opened and gazed coldly upon the entire world.

The Origin… had descended.