The Goddess's Might Saves the World - Chapter 10 - Part 2

The darkness was utterly silent.
For the first time, the Hero finally understood what people meant by “a place quieter than death.”
There was no wind, no gravity, and no sound of time passing; the entire world was just an endless, stretching sea. The sea was black, but it shimmered—a faint, leftover light from the depths of memory, like the reflection of a broken dream.
He slowly opened his eyes, realizing he was floating beneath that sea. The water wasn’t cold; in fact, it was thick and warm, like the amniotic fluid around an unborn baby, making it easy to just drift.
But in that endless sleep, a voice gently called out.
“—Hero.”
The voice wasn’t near or far; it echoed right in his soul.
It was familiar, sacred, and carried a touch of sadness.
He jolted awake, and the surrounding water began to shake.
“Goddess… are you still here?”
“The Flame hasn’t died; you need to relight it for me, now.”
The voice returned, gentle but firm, whispering to him as if from a flickering fire.
The Hero’s heart started beating normally again. He looked into the distance and saw…
…a shattered, crystal orb—
Trillions of worlds, millions of souls, and the echoing remnants of all history pulsated inside it.
The Goddess and the Hero were still standing at the center.
Their figures were stretched out infinitely by the light, looking as if they were about to merge with the cosmos itself.
The Hero gripped his sword, his knees shaking slightly, his muscles long since burned through by the divine fire;
while the Goddess’s body started showing tiny cracks—spreading out from her collarbone, her shoulder, and the flaming mark on her chest, leaking a glowing, molten-gold liquid.
“Your Divine Body… it’s falling apart,” the Hero whispered, his voice raw.
The Goddess smiled, “I was only a vessel for the Flame. The vessel has to break for the Flame to finally be born.”
She reached out and stroked his cheek; her fingertip wasn’t solid anymore, but made of pure light particles.
“Don’t be afraid. This isn’t death, but the end of my fuel.”
“But you’ll be gone.”
“If the Flame is still burning, can anyone truly say I’m gone?”
Before her voice had completely faded, Nyarl scream ripped out from the bottom of the abyss.
Her shattered body was still trying to pull itself back together, and countless black tendrils burst from the cracks,
twining, piecing themselves, regenerating, forming a…