The Goddess's Might Saves the World - Chapter 0 Prologue

The continent is called Saderus.

This ancient land once knew the light of dawn and the turning of the seasons; the snow on the mountains melted into spring water, and the flowers of the plains bloomed in the wind. But now, the sky is perpetually shrouded in black mist. The sun is imprisoned behind the clouds and can no longer reach the world.

The Twelve Demon Lords, each guarding one of the continent’s twelve domains, have cast their overlapping shadows, plunging the world into endless night.

Legend claimed that the only person who could sever this darkness was the ‘Chosen Hero’—a young man wielding the Holy Sword. Generations of people sang poems, waiting for the day an ordinary child would draw the Holy Sword, for that would be the sign of the dawn’s return.

Yet, fate always carries a sting of mockery.

“No, no, no—I can’t! Run, just run!”

The ruined village was a mess of scorched, broken wooden pillars. Amidst the flames, a boy in a tattered cloak fled in blind panic. He was the one people called the Hero. The Holy Sword trembled in his hand, its blade dull and lusterless, nothing more than a scrap of metal.

He was breathless, his face streaked with dust and tears.

“They said as long as I could draw this sword, I could defeat the Demon Lords… So why… why doesn’t it react at all!”

At his feet lay a collapsed altar. Moments ago, he had tried to use the Holy Sword to strike down the encroaching black mist creature. But the blade didn’t even spark, and the next second, the monster snarled and kicked him flying. If the dying villagers hadn’t bought him time, he would have been devoured.

The Hero crashed to the ground, tasting bl00d, his body violently shaking.

“I… I can’t do this. I can’t do anything…”

His voice was a mere whisper, nearly swallowed by the wind. He gripped the Holy Sword tightly, but his fingers slipped weakly away.

From the depths of the black mist, a low, derisive laugh sounded. It wasn’t a human voice, but a whisper from the abyss itself.

—”A mere mortal who can’t even protect himself, dares to claim the title of Hero?”

The sound echoed between heaven and earth, crashing into his eardrums like a bell toll. The Hero’s ears rang, and his spirit was on the verge of shattering.

All the strength seemed to drain from him. He could only curl up and cry.

“Someone save me… I want to go home… I don’t want to be a Hero anymore…”

But in the deepest part of this despair, a fissure cracked open in the firmament.

—Light descended from above the clouds.

This light wasn’t the scorching sun, but gentle as water, radiating an undeniable sacred purity.

The rift slowly widened. The black mist recoiled from the light, like a beast encountering its natural predator. The Hero squinted, feeling for the first time that a trace of warmth could still fall upon this forsaken land.

A white figure slowly descended from the light.

She had silver hair that flowed like a cascade, and her eyes were clear, holding an unfathomable, profound benevolence. Her foot landed on the scorched earth, and the ashes scattered instantly like starlight. Even without armour, her presence felt more indestructible than any steel.

—The Goddess of Mercy, Lumina.

“…As expected, the Hero is too weak.”

She looked down at the boy huddled on the ground. Her tone held no blame; she sounded like a mother looking at her lost child.

She bent down and gently helped him up. In shock, the Hero found himself cradled in her embrace, a warmth that instantly made him forget the flames and the spectre of death.

“Do not be afraid…” Lumina whispered softly, “From now on, you won’t have to fight alone.”

The black mist in the sky churned, and a Demon Lord’s roar shook the earth.

The Goddess merely patted her own chest. The holy light upon her chest vibrated in response, emitting an incredible sense of overwhelming authority.

“My power is great enough—great enough to suppress all darkness.”

The Hero stared blankly at the Goddess before him.

Her form was like the light of dawn, yet she stood truly upon the scorched earth, close enough for him to feel the warmth and rhythm of her chest. That warmth felt alien to a land shrouded in black mist, almost making him doubt it was real.

“W-who are you…?” the Hero stammered, longing for reliance but afraid to believe.

Lumina smiled slightly, and a strand of silver hair brushed against his cheek.

“I am the Goddess of Mercy from the high heavens… but now, for the sake of this land, I have relinquished my divine throne.”

She lowered her head, meeting his gaze without any distance. Her eyes were like the deepest lake, capable of encompassing all fear.

“Why… why did you come down yourself?” the Hero trembled, his throat dry.

“Because I heard your cry.”

This simple sentence pierced his heart like a sharp sword. The Hero’s tears broke forth again.

“But… I can’t do anything! I don’t deserve… to be a Hero!”

He cried out hysterically, and the Holy Sword fell to the ground, the dull thud of metal announcing his failure.

Lumina, however, reached out and picked up the Holy Sword. The blade remained dull in her palm, utterly devoid of light.

“The Holy Sword doesn’t respond to you because you lack courage.”

The Goddess raised her head, looking towards the black mist covering the sky.

“It’s because the present age does not require a sword—”

She slowly lowered the Holy Sword, placing her hands instead gently upon her own chest.

The holy light on her chest rippled outwards like water, illuminating the scorched ruins around them.

“—but an embrace. What can suppress darkness and seal evil is precisely this divine core of mine.”

The Hero was dumbfounded.

He had expected the Goddess to display some earth-shattering divine magic, yet she had stated the essence of her power so plainly, so almost absurdly.

“With… your chest?” he repeated hoarsely.

“Yes. The Holy Embrace Suppression Technique. It is the only sacred art capable of countering the Twelve Demon Lords.”

Her voice was gentle yet incredibly firm, without a hint of jest.

The black mist in the sky seemed to sense this declaration, beginning to churn violently. The roars and curses of the Demon Lords emanated from its depths.

—”A mere woman dares to challenge us!”

—”With only flesh and bl00d, you think to seal the abyss?”

The voices resounded like the thunderous clamor of ten thousand armies, shaking the wilderness.

The Hero involuntarily shrank back again, but this time, the Goddess’s hand gently held him close.

“Don’t be afraid. You may step back, for I shall step forward.”

As she turned, her silver hair streamed on the wind, her silhouette so vast it looked capable of supporting the entire sky.

The Hero stared blankly at her back, a feeling unlike anything he’d known surging within him. It wasn’t the terror he felt on the battlefield, but a sense of… being protected, of safety.

“Goddess…”

His voice was fragmented with tremors.

Lumina looked back, her smile so gentle it made his heart tremble.

“Hero, your journey isn’t over. It’s just that, from now on, you won’t be alone.”

The next moment, light poured down like a waterfall, bursting forth from the Goddess’s chest and shooting straight into the heart of the black clouds.

The shadows of the Twelve Demon Lords roared simultaneously, as if mountains were shaking. The earth cracked, and countless eyes appeared in the air, staring fixedly at the Goddess.

This wasn’t the start of a battle; it was a declaration to the entire continent.

The Hero knelt on the ground, gripping his Holy Sword tightly. Though it remained dull and unlit, he felt a faint tremor in the hilt for the first time. That wasn’t the sword’s power, but the resonance evoked by the Goddess’s Holy Light.

“Goddess… are you truly going to face the Twelve Demon Lords alone…?”

He murmured under his breath, a sound like a prayer, or perhaps a sob.

Lumina’s voice echoed between heaven and earth.

“If my embrace can hold the world, then even the darkest abyss, I can suppress.”

The black mist surged in the sky, like a million black dragons roaring. The pressure forced all the surviving villagers to fall to the ground and weep, unable even to lift their heads. The Hero trembled all over, clutching the Holy Sword’s hilt, yet his fingertips felt cold. If not for the Goddess’s aura beside him, he would have suspected he’d be crushed to ashes by the black mist.

“Is this… the oppression of the Twelve Demon Lords…?” He gritted his teeth, his voice low and hoarse.

“Yes,” Lumina’s voice was still calm. Her silver hair flew wildly in the black wind, yet the light on her chest remained steady, as if no amount of darkness could shake that single point of sanctity.

She slowly spread her arms, as if to embrace this scarred and devastated land.

“O people of Saderus, don’t despair any longer—”

Her voice wasn’t a shout, but a soft echo that travelled across the continent, “Because from this moment on, your night will be ended by my embrace.”

With a sudden thunderous crash, a roar erupted from the depths of the black mist. It wasn’t a single sound, but twelve distinct low rumbles and growls sounding simultaneously.

“Arrogant woman…”

“The Holy Sword’s light has long been extinguished. What good can your might be?”

“If you desire battle, then step into our domain and taste despair for yourself!”

The sky was ripped open, countless black lightning bolts slashing through the clouds. From the fissures in the cracked earth, crimson flames and howls emerged. It was the Demon Lords’ declaration of war, signifying that this conflict was inevitable.

The Hero slumped to the ground, his face pale. His body continued to shake, but his gaze was firmly fixed on the Goddess before him.

Lumina stood tall, her back to him. No armor, no weapon, only that divine core that seemed capable of containing everything. Her silhouette, framed by the fire and black mist, appeared more resolute than any war god.

“Are you truly going to… face enemies like that, alone?” the Hero asked tremulously.

Lumina looked back, her gentle smile sending shivers through his heart.

“I’m not alone. You are by my side. Though your sword has yet to shine, you are still the Hero. And I… I shall use my embrace to become your shield.”

The Hero’s heart gave a sudden lurch. For the first time, he didn’t cry out in despair over his own powerlessness, but felt a strange sense of responsibility.

—Perhaps he didn’t need to be the one to save the world, but at the very least, he had to become the pillar behind the Goddess.

The storm roared, the night sky was torn, and a deafening bark suddenly echoed across the heavens. The sound pierced the earth and sky, striking the ground like thunder, instantly quieting all other noise.

The Hero shivered.

“W-what is that…?”

Lumina looked up, her expression more serious than ever before.

“The Black Flame Demonic Hound—Kuros. The head-hunter among the Twelve Demon Lords. The first enemy to come before us.”

The next moment, a colossal black fire erupted from the depths of the forest. Trees instantly turned to ashes, and the scorched earth twisted in the angry flames.

Three burning heads emerged from the sea of fire, their crimson eyes fixed fiercely on the Goddess and the Hero. The earth trembled as the gigantic hound slowly stepped out, each step seeming to crush humanity’s last hope.

The Hero nearly screamed out loud in terror. But this time, he bit his tongue and forced himself not to run. Because right in front of him, the Goddess had already taken a step forward.

“Hero,” Lumina’s voice was as steady as a war drum.

“Look up. This war begins officially now.”

She returned the Holy Sword to the Hero’s hand but didn’t ask him to charge. Instead, she merely smiled faintly, the holy light on her chest surging.

“Don’t be afraid—my power is great enough.”

In the sky, black mist and firelight intertwined. The prelude to the first epic battle began on this very night.