Miss Witch Doesn't Want to be a Diva-Chapter 1662 - 97: Song of the End (Part 2)

Fighters and mechas shuttle through the storm of bullets, each moment sees enemies and comrades turned into fragments of flame, death never so cheaply displayed as in this moment, with the numbers on the screen constantly jumping, representing the loss of once-vibrant lives.

The Capital, Floral Crown Star Domain, outskirts of the Stellar System.

Like striking tempered glass with an iron hammer, the firm spatial barrier slowly cracks with crevices, until it collapses with a bang, the broken spatial tunnel revealing dazzling white light, then countless warships traverse the Star Sea and emerge, facing off against the departing Third Fleet.

Brilliant beams interlace in deep space, countless shots collide with the barriers constructed by the fleet formations, igniting fragments and ripples.

From behind, countless aerial carriers release fighters and mechas dense as moths, scattering into a sky full of light points, then swarming towards the opposition, with both sides' elite clashing in every corner of the Stellar System.

At this time, behind the Fifth Fleet, the broken spatial tunnel being torn open bit by bit by a giant hand, the black and white magnificent Crown descends slowly, followed by invisible mental ripples sweeping through the entire Star Sea.

Facing this horrifying pressure and mental shock, a cobalt blue profound beacon light rises within the central Titan Flagship of the Third Fleet, then layers upon layers radiate outward.

[Black Sun detected, activating Sealed Holy Relic]

The azure light spreading from the beacon's center envelops the fleet members and the Fortress Star behind them like a veil, protecting them from the mental ripples' impact.

'That's Emuralin's legacy, it is said she inscribed her mental will before her death, and this Holy Artifact is also what Court of Judgment members swear allegiance to when taking office.'

'With the protection of this Holy Relic, the Third Fleet can avoid being influenced by the will of the Black Sun.'

However, the Third Fleet's trump cards don't stop there. The fortress city behind them starts reshaping and morphing like a Rubik's cube, revealing complex and intricately precise structures within as layers of metal machinery reposition.

Layers of sealed armor unfold like a vortex, red-hot light tubes extending, forming hollow triangular shapes in groups of three, densely arranaged into a massive main cannon track stretching tens of thousands of kilometers.

Godslaying Weapon·Final Flame Spear

It's said that the annihilation of the Black Sun·He Fasimo was accomplished by an anonymous hero piloting a God Simulator, piercing it with the Flame Spear, and after the Federation was established, iteratively optimized the Flame Spear Art Formula, eventually forming the Godslaying Weapon before them like a monstrous entity.

Even before firing, the presence of this final Godslaying Weapon exerts a colossal deterrent pressure on everyone.

The trump cards of the Rose Federation are gradually revealed, the power that once ended the Fifth Epoch is now presented before the world.

Yet before the Fifth Fleet members can devise a strategy, the entire Stellar System pulsates like a heartbeat, and intangible tremors ripple outward, as the grand main cannon, stretching tens of thousands of kilometers, begins lighting up in layers. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The fiery pipelines turn incandescent, the light spreading like dominoes, with each section that turns red hot causing the interior space of the Stellar System to compress slightly, under such waves individual minds feel as if being yanked from their brains by invisible hands, inducing a tearing pain.

"It's terrifying."

"The Federation actually has such a weapon."

"No wonder the Third Fleet holds such a lofty status."

"Such a secret weapon, we had no clue."

"Will we die here?"

"I will always follow Lady Heteria, unto death."

Facing this world-compressing doomsday weapon, the black and white Crown burns fiercely, forming layers of transparent barriers, intricate patterns rotating with light within them, finally forming seventeen levels of transparent membrane like lotus leaves.

Scarlet light echoes from the Final Flame Spear, as the entire Stellar System space contracts to its limit and then rapidly expands, the pulsating red beam piercing through time and space, piercing layer upon layer of membranes, with an unstoppable force penetrating all obstructions, and shooting into the black-and-white Solar Crown.

Little by little, annihilated fragments of flame spread from the pierced wound, spreading across the Divine Crown, forming a gigantic hole at the Crown's center, that devours the remaining parts, until the entire Divine Crown is annihilated, turning into fragmented starlight scattered across the Star River.

'Is it over...' This thought echoes in the minds of everyone present.

Members on the side of the Fifth Fleet feel a strange void emerging within them, the previously projected wishes now stuck, echoing repeatedly.

Lady Heteria, has fallen? This notion begins spreading.

In this state, the battles within the Stellar System cool and dim, becoming gray and dark.

Inside the Titan Flagship, Throne Hall.

Tilan awakens on the solitary Throne, surrounded by numerous unconscious Red-clothed Song Sacrifices sprawled on the ground, affected by the impact of the Final Flame Spear.

This doomsday weapon aimed at the Black Sun not only eradicates divine powers but also transmits the concept of annihilation layer by layer and if not for Tilan's decisive self-destruction at the final moment, many soul consciousnesses connected to the Crown would've been similarly annihilated.

It hurts, Sister Evelyn.

Tilan gently strokes the golden-haired Songstress asleep in her arms, lightly touching her brow to soothe Evelyn's wounded soul consciousness.

Gently placing Evelyn's supple body on the ground, Tilan stands, her gaze penetrating through time and space, seeing the finely sealed and protected Holy Relic of Emuralin.

The exquisite gold and blue enamel box sits securely in a safe, housing Emuralin's ashes after her death, her strong will at life's end still guarding the country she rebuilt.

Cobalt Blue Tears...

The girl softly murmurs this nostalgic name.

Is this the fate of every Color-level Songstress, ultimately violating the wishes left by predecessors?

With both hands gently pressed to her chest, her ethereal singing graces the stillness of the hall with an unaccompanied melody, no harmonies, lonely and gentle voice like the faintest breeze permeating this world.

This song belongs solely to her, expressing her sadness, anticipation, weeping, tears, and loneliness toward this world.

After enduring the passage of long time, she finally comprehends how people rarely understand each other, and even knowing each other's sufferings, they won't abandon their stance, and the dreamy world created by the Songstress will inevitably awaken; the harsh struggle in reality persists.

Indeed, mere gentleness cannot change the world.

Was I wrong...

Kindness can only be gentle when strong; otherwise, it's dismissed.

She slowly raises her hand toward the distant front, an empty grasp, countless shielding measures protecting the gold-blue enamel box twist and crumble under her invisible grasp, breaking into scattered fragments, until at last, the enamel box shatters with a clap.

The ashes of Emuralin stored within scatter into the Star Sea like countless fireflies, exquisitely beautiful yet sad.

The magnificent cobalt blue beacon slowly extinguishes, and black spiritual tides advance across the Stellar System, submerging everyone's will.

Both sides in the battle cease, the war-torn Stellar System gradually quieting, the scalding scarlet Final Flame Spear also dimming under control, eventually turning into dull rock.

Central Star Domain Capital, Federal Central Council Crown of Tears, broadcasts to all Star Domains, habitable stars, space stations of the Rose Federation.

Broadcasting a lonely and ethereal song, devoid of passion, persuasion, or comfort, only endless vastness and remoteness, as if witnessing the insignificance and loss upon gazing at the starry sky, free from all petty human emotions.

The world tends to quiet down.

This is the last song heard by human civilization at the end of the Sixth Era, the epoch gracefully falling.

As it resonated, countless starlights unfold before this black-haired girl, forming a twinkling celestial canopy, a covenant made between humans and Loranshia, now presented with universal human response.

Now the pen writing the future is in this girl's hand, she is the original beginning and the ultimate end, her song echoes throughout the Universe, traversing the Milky Way Star Sea.