The Goddess's Might Saves the World - Chapter 2

The night wind slowly swept the scent of scorched earth away from the forest where the Black Flame Hellhound had fallen. The silver light draining from the Goddess’s Divine Light left a faint, holy afterglow in the air. The Hero sank into the ashes, trembling, yet his eyes were locked on that towering figure—the one whose Divine Light had been the only thing strong enough to crush the Hellhound.
“Let’s go.”
Lumina extended her hand and gently pulled the Hero to his feet. For a moment, the Hero was too awestruck to meet her gaze, managing only a stiff nod.
They walked over the scorched ground and through the burnt ruins. Ahead, a broken bridge of stone steps suddenly appeared. The steps didn’t lead toward a mountain peak, but straight up, ascending into the open air.
The Hero froze, gazing upward.
“Is that…”
Suspended high in the sky was a colossal structure: a Cathedral.
It stood like a forgotten ruin, lifted to the heavens by a mysterious, potent force. The bell tower was long broken and teetering; deep, cracked markings covered the mottled stone walls. The entire building radiated an oppressive aura, a residual dwelling of a god from another era that did not belong to the mortal world.
The stained-glass windows, once sacred objects praising the light, were now shattered pane by pane, falling with the fierce wind. Each shard reflected an unnatural colour: bl00d-red, deep-sea blue, venomous green. As they tumbled, the air above seemed to be showered by a strange, chaotic rain of light.
The Hero instinctively shielded his face. The glass fragments hissed as they grazed past him, sounding like sharp, crisp cracks.
“Is this… is this truly a place a mortal can walk?”
Lumina merely looked up, her expression serene. Her silver hair whipped in the gale, and the divine radiance upon her Divine Light gently pulsed.
“This is the Holy Sky Cathedral. Once, God-kin and humans prayed here together. But now, its heavens have been claimed by the Fallen Wings.”
Her tone was calm, yet carried a profound, immeasurable sadness.
The Hero swallowed, his steps faltering as he followed. As they stepped onto the stone stairs, a vibration ran beneath their feet, as if every step trod upon the Divine Light of a dying giant. The wind howled, the stained-glass fragments continued to fall, and bottomless abysses surrounded them.
“Whoa—!” The Hero stumbled, nearly pitching forward. The Goddess’s hand shot out, pulling him back from the edge. The sudden, brief contact made him burn crimson.
“Don’t be afraid,” Lumina said faintly.
“O-of course you’re not afraid! You… you could crush anything with your Divine Light!” the Hero stammered, instantly wishing he could take the words back. Shame made him drop his head.
Lumina did not reprimand him. Instead, she offered a slight smile.
“Yes. Because the Divine Light is not only for restraint, but also for protection.”
They finally reached the Cathedral’s entrance. It was a ruin: the stone door was tilted, the walls broken, and shafts of coloured light projected through the fractured gaps. The main hall was vast and eerie, containing ancient altars and statues, all sliced by fissures, as if the world itself had been twisted.
The Hero nervously hunched his shoulders, muttering under his breath:
“The Black Flame Hellhound was terrifying enough… the next enemy… it can’t actually be… an Archangel, can it?”
The moment he spoke, the air abruptly grew heavy.
A sharp shriek echoed from the dome’s fissure—a sound like hundreds of glass sheets shattering at once, painfully piercing the eardrums. The Hero frantically covered his ears, nearly collapsing to his knees.
Lumina, however, slowly raised her head, her gaze fixed on the high altitude. She had sensed the swift approach of that fallen aura—
“…He’s here.”
The instant she spoke, the entire Sky Cathedral shuddered. The bell tower broke amidst the shaking, and stone rubble and bell metal plunged into the abyss.
The shattering bell tolled not a lament, but a thunderous war drum, announcing the arrival of the inevitable battle.
After the bell shattered, the sky fell into an eerie, oppressive stillness.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the descent of an irresistible entity.
The hair on the Hero’s body stood on end, his palms slick with sweat as he stared up at the broken dome.
“What… what is that noise…?”
His voice trembled, as if afraid to disturb something.
The next moment, the fractured dome was ripped open by a fierce sword of light.
It was not pure white light, but a scarlet-gold flame carrying the aura of scorching depravity, tracing a wound across the sky. The shattered clouds churned, and ashes and sparks poured down from the gap.
—”GAAAAAHHHH!”
The piercing shriek sounded again, a terrible sound blending a bird’s cry and a human wail. The Cathedral walls vibrated, and the broken faces of the statues crumbled.
And then, he descended.
Six wings unfurled.
They were black wings, deeper than the night sky, their edges burning with scarlet fire. When the feathers fell, they brought not holy blessing, but destructive sparks, scorching the ground with trails of ash.
He hovered in mid-air, like a fallen sun, illuminating the entire Cathedral, yet bringing only suffocation and despair.
Tears streamed from the Hero’s eyes from the dazzling flames, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm in his throat.
“I-it’s actually… an Archangel… but… how can he be… so terrifying…”
He saw the Archangel’s face.
Saphiel’s appearance was beautiful beyond mortal measure, his features fine, bearing the divinity of an ancient angel. But his eyes were empty and lightless, his pupils burning with pure fire, holding no pity, only raw cruelty.
A fractured holy emblem rested on his forehead, the mark of his descent from the heavenly realm.
“…Lumina.”
Saphiel spoke, his voice resonating like two clashing swords, echoing off every wall.
“Former compatriot, have you finally fallen so low as to oppose me?”
The Goddess looked up at him, her expression unwavering.
“Saphiel, you are no longer the Archangel of old. Your wings are stained by fire, your soul has fallen, and now only destruction remains.”
Saphiel sneered, violently beating his six wings. The flames surged, tearing open the entire sky and forming a storm of fire-feathers.
“Fallen? No, this is liberation. You still clutch your Divine Light to fight me? Will you challenge my fire-sword with that soft body?”
He slowly raised the weapon in his hand.
A longsword forged from pure flame, its blade flowing like molten rock, ready to incinerate all things. As the sword tip pointed towards the ground, the statues on the altar spontaneously combusted, instantly turning to ash.
The Hero sank to the ground in terror, his eyes wide.
“…This, this can’t be won! This fellow is a hundred times more terrifying than the Hellhound!”
Lumina simply took a step forward.
Her silver hair billowed in the fire-feather storm. Her eyes were calm, but her voice was as steadfast as a bell chime.
“I need no sword. My Divine Light is already my armour, enough to subdue your Fallen Wings.”
The fire in Saphiel’s eyes danced, as if he was enraged and challenged.
“…Very well. Then let us see whose is the dominating power of the skies: the Fallen Wings, or the Holy Embrace.”
With that, he beat his wings and swooped down!
The fierce wind stirred by his six wings instantly shattered the entire Cathedral. Fragments of stained glass flew up, transforming into a mad storm of coloured light in the air.
The Hero barely managed to cry out—
“It’s coming!”
The Fire Sword and the Holy Embrace were about to clash for the first time in mid-air.
BOOM!
The first clash between the Fire Sword and the divine radiance erupted in a blinding flash in the sky. The ruined Sky Cathedral was instantly ripped apart by the gale. The walls crumbled with a roar, and shattered glass fragments were hurled hundreds of metres away, dancing like a raging rainstorm in the night sky.
The Hero instinctively covered his eyes, but the fierce vibration still made him stagger backward.
“Ah—This… this power… it’s the war of the gods…!”
High above, the six-winged Saphiel swung his Fire Sword. Each slash tore through the air, leaving a searing rift. The fallen feathers sprinkled in the air ignited fires the moment they touched the architecture.
“LUMINA—!”
Saphiel roared, his voice a blend of fury and lament, “However holy your Divine Light is, it cannot withstand the judgement of the Fallen Wings!”
Lumina’s holy wings unfolded behind her, the feathers shining like incandescent silver. She carried no weapon; her hands were empty, yet she leaned forward, her Divine Light thrust out, serving as the sturdiest shield.
“Saphiel… I do not seek judgement.”
Her voice was clear, yet echoed through every broken shard of glass, sounding like a multitude of voices speaking at once.
“All I seek is protection.”
—CRACK!
The Fire Sword struck again. The Goddess blocked with crossed arms, but the true brunt of the force was borne by the divine radiance at her Divine Light.
The blazing flames were instantly arrested. Fire and holy light detonated in a clash, forming two violently repellent storms.
The Hero looked up, tears forced from his eyes by the fierce wind.
“She… she’s truly using her Divine Light to stop that sword…”
His voice was laced with shock and disbelief.
The sky transformed into a cruel symphony:
Black and white feathers crisscrossed in flight. Flames and holy light intertwined, colliding like thunder and lightning. With every clash, the very sky trembled.
“Fallen Wing—Strike!”
Saphiel beat his six wings, instantly accelerating and launching three consecutive slashes. The resulting scars left burning fissures in the air.
“Holy Embrace—Guard!”
The light from Lumina’s Divine Light burst forth. She spun and leaped, meeting the triple slash head-on with her Divine Light. The torrent of holy light shattered the fissures and forced the flames back.
Their figures intertwined in mid-air, separated, and crashed together again, moving so quickly the Hero could barely track them.
He could only look up, his body rigid with fear and shock.
“This… this isn’t a battle humans are meant to see…” he whispered hoarsely.
Saphiel’s roar shattered the last remnants of the bell tower.
“The Holy Sword is long extinguished! No matter how much your Divine Light struggles, it can only hold out until the fires of depravity consume you!”
Lumina’s gaze did not waver. She flew in the sky, standing against the firestorm, her voice as steadfast as a bell.
“If a Divine Light can embrace the world, then no matter how dark the Fallen Wings, I can suppress them.”
—BOOM!
The two figures collided again. The gale ripped apart the entire altar. Debris rained down, forcing the Hero to retreat in panic.
He looked up, his heart racing, only one thought in his mind—
This was a war no mortal was ever meant to witness, let alone interfere with.
This was the confrontation between the Holy Embrace and the Fallen Wings.
Fire. Flames. Shattered feathers.
The battle in the sky raged on. The Sky Cathedral was utterly ruined. The bell tower had long turned to ash, the altar statues toppled one after another, and debris fell like a meteor shower. Every collision between the Fire Sword and the holy light was a small act of annihilation.
The Hero huddled among the broken walls, clutching the Holy Sword. The blade remained dull and unresponsive, seeming to mock his helplessness.
“I… I can’t do anything… I can only watch…” His voice choked, tears mixing with dust as they fell.
High up, Saphiel’s roar thundered.
“Lumina! Your Divine Light? Weakness! Your embrace may subdue a Hellhound, but can it withstand the fires of heaven!”
He violently shook his six wings. Flames erupted from between the feathers, instantly setting the entire sky ablaze. The inferno converged on the Fire Sword, the blade swelling into a blazing light-dragon that slashed down with world-destroying power.
Lumina soared to meet it, her chest’s divine radiance fully unleashed, acting as a silver shield that forcibly held off the blade of light.
CRASH!
The instantaneous explosion shook the air. The shockwave completely shattered the Cathedral’s last remaining pillars. The entire floating Cathedral disintegrated, fragments swirling and plunging into the infinite abyss.
Tears were forced from the Hero’s eyes by the wild wind, his voice trembling in the storm.
“Goddess—You must win!”
However, he witnessed Lumina’s holy wings being severed in the inferno. Silver-white feathers scattered amidst the firelight, like fading stars. Her figure instantly lost balance, struck by an immense force.
“Ah—!”
Her cry echoed in the flames, and she began to fall rapidly, plummeting from the sky towards the ground.
The Hero’s heart tightened, nearly stopping. He stumbled forward, wanting desperately to catch her.
“I can’t! I wouldn’t be able to bear it—!”
The next moment, a tremendous crash.
Lumina miraculously twisted her body. As she fell, her Divine Light was positioned in front of the Hero, pulling him into a firm embrace. Her back took the brutal impact of the falling debris and flames. Ashes and fire exploded all around them, yet not a single spark touched him.
The Hero was stunned. Pressed tightly into that Divine Light, he heard her frantic heartbeat. It was a sound that transcended the battlefield, making him forget his fear for a moment, leaving only the warmth of being protected.
“You… even as you were falling… you chose to protect me with your Divine Light?”
The Hero’s voice was muffled, his eyes blurred.
Lumina’s breathing was heavy, her silver hair dusted with ash, but her gaze remained calm.
“Hero… as long as you live. Then… I have not lost.”
Saphiel’s flames roared high above, his voice shattering the ruins.
“Ridiculous! You have fallen! No matter how broad your Divine Light, it cannot save yourself!”
The Hero gripped the Holy Sword tightly, tears dripping onto the blade. The sword was still dull, yet in that instant, it seemed to vibrate slightly, moved by the Goddess’s protection.
He looked up. Through blurry tears, he saw the Goddess straighten her back, standing between the flames and the broken walls, shielding him with her Divine Light.
Lumina whispered:
“If this Divine Light can protect you… even if I fall a thousand times, I will rise again.”
That sentence pressed down on the Hero’s heart like a mountain.
The ground cracked, flames roared, and the remnants of the Sky Cathedral continued to fall into the abyss.
The Hero tightly hugged the Holy Sword, his eyes blurred. He watched the Goddess stand upright after being struck down, protecting him with her Divine Light. Her holy wings were broken, feathers scattered everywhere, and her body was covered in scorch marks, yet she still faced the six-winged Fallen Archangel in the sky.
Saphiel hovered, his six wings burning like fire, resembling a fallen black sun. He looked down, raising his Fire Sword. The searing aura was like ten thousand volcanoes erupting simultaneously.
“Lumina… this is the end. Your Divine Light can only comfort the weak, it cannot resist judgement.”
His voice echoed, seeming to make the very air tremble. As his sword power gathered, the entire sky turned crimson, as if the apocalypse had arrived.
The Hero’s body was rigid, his heart about to burst. He could only manage a trembling low growl:
“Goddess—Run! That strike… it will destroy the entire continent!”
However, Lumina slowly raised her head. Her eyes were clear, and the divine radiance on her Divine Light was pulsating violently.
“…The Divine Light is not for running away; it is for embracing.”
She took a deep breath, spreading her arms wide. The next moment, a blinding holy light erupted from her Divine Light, surging out like a silver waterfall, driving away the darkness.
“Holy Stream—Heavenly Cataract of Radiance!”
Heaven and Earth shook with a deafening roar.
The light cascading from her Divine Light was no longer a simple shield, but a surging torrent. The milky-white holy light transformed into a colossal waterfall, pouring down from the heavens, as if the entire firmament had been opened and a thousand rivers poured forth simultaneously.
The torrent crashed towards Saphiel. His Fire Sword slashed down, meeting the Holy Stream head-on.
BOOM!
The explosion sounded like the thunder of the apocalypse. Light and fire wrestled, forming a massive vortex. The flames twisted within, but the torrent was endless, surging ever more fiercely.
Saphiel roared, his six wings flapping wildly. The fire tried to flow upstream but was gradually suppressed.
“Impossible—You are merely… a soft Divine Light… how can you—!”
Lumina’s voice resonated between heaven and earth, cutting through everything like a bell:
“Because this Divine Light can encompass the earth, the stars, and hope! Your fallen wings, no matter how much they struggle, will only be pressed into my embrace!”
The torrent burst forth completely.
The milky-white holy light became a true Heavenly Cataract, slamming Saphiel directly from the sky to the ground. His six wings burned in the torrent, breaking off one by one. The Fire Sword let out a final, mournful shriek before shattering in the light.
“Aaaah—!”
Saphiel’s shriek became an echo. His figure was forced into the ground by the Holy Stream. The altar instantly crumbled, debris flew, and the remnants of the entire Cathedral were swallowed by the torrent.
The Hero was thrown to the ground by the shock, his eyes too blinded by the light to open. He could only vaguely see:
The Goddess’s figure stood atop the torrent, the radiance of her Divine Light like an infinite silver river, pressing the Fallen Archangel deep into the earth.
“Seal—!”
With the final whisper, the light solidified like chains. The torrent subsided. Saphiel’s figure vanished, leaving only the charred, smoking crater where the altar had been.
—Silence.
The Hero stared blankly at the scene, his heart beating like a trapped bird. His throat was dry, and he managed a trembling whisper:
“She… she actually used her Divine Light to press down a Fallen Archangel…”
Lumina slowly turned around, her face illuminated by the light, looking impossibly holy. Her silver hair swayed in the gentle wind. Her breathing was laboured, her Divine Light visibly heaving, but her eyes remained resolute.
“Hero… did you see clearly? The Divine Light is not just for protection, it can also suppress depravity.”
The Hero’s tears finally flowed, running down his cheeks.
“…I saw it. I will absolutely, absolutely never forget—”
The sky gradually cleared, the black mist dissipating. Coloured morning light streamed through the clouds, falling onto the broken Cathedral. The glass fragments reflected the light, like thousands of coloured butterflies dancing in the air.
And amidst that coloured light, the Goddess stood tall, her Divine Light prominent, like a true sacred statue.
—Silence.
After the violent storm vanished, the entire world seemed to have been profoundly altered. The ruined Sky Cathedral remained suspended in mid-air, leaving only broken walls and ash, yet a strange, incredible peace settled over it.
The Hero lay amidst the debris, gasping for breath, the recent roar still echoing in his ears. His heart hammered like a war drum, and his bl00d pounded deep within his eardrums.
He slowly lifted his head, and the sight before him made him forget to breathe for a moment.
—Lumina.
She stood at the center of the collapsed crater, her silver hair gently floating in the morning light. The Divine Light still emitted a faint holy glow, like a single star remaining in an extinguished bonfire—both warm and steadfast.
Her breathing was clearly heavy, her shoulders rising and falling, and fine sweat beaded on her forehead, yet she remained perfectly upright.
Coloured glass fragments drifted in the wind, reflecting a spectrum of light that settled around her figure, as if cloaking her in a flowing rainbow sacred robe.
The Hero stared, an indescribable shock swelling in his heart.
“She… she really… pressed down a Fallen Archangel… with her Divine Light…”
His voice trembled, a mix of awe and self-mockery. For he knew that if he hadn’t witnessed it himself, no one would ever believe it.
Lumina slowly turned, her gaze landing on him. Her eyes were not condescending, but gentle as water. She walked over, extending a hand to pull him up from the rubble.
“Hero, are you alright?”
The Hero nodded blankly, tears falling uncontrollably. He suddenly realized that he had done nothing, having only been protected by her again and again.
“I… I couldn’t do anything… I just… hid in your embrace…”
His voice choked, his face red with shame.
Lumina merely smiled gently, reaching out a finger to lightly tap her own Divine Light.
“Is that not fine? This Divine Light exists precisely to protect you.”
The Hero froze, his heart contracting violently. In that instant, he felt a thunderous response from within his own chest cavity, as if a dormant power was beginning to stir.
He lowered his head, tightly gripping the dull Holy Sword in his hand. Though it still didn’t shine, he could feel that its heart had been moved by the Goddess’s embrace.
The sky became clear, the black mist gone, revealing a long-lost azure. Sunlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the broken Cathedral and the ground covered in shattered glass. Light and shadow crisscrossed, like a gigantic mosaic, reflecting both the cruelty of the battlefield and the resolute figure of the Goddess.
The Hero, his throat dry, finally forced out a sentence:
“Goddess Lumina… I will remember. From this day forward, every day I live… will bear witness to your battle.”
Lumina said no more, simply reaching out to gently wipe the tears from his face.
“Good. Because bearing witness, in itself, is the continuation of hope.”
—Just as peace settled over the scene, the sky far in the distance suddenly churned again.
An aura, different from fire, was brewing: thick, viscous, like the pressure of the deep sea. Clouds began to gather, and the roar of a sea tide whispered from afar.
The Hero’s heart tightened; he immediately sensed it.
“Is that… another Demon Lord…?”
Lumina looked towards the distance, her expression steady but grave.
“Yes. The Tentacled God from the Abyss—Nyota. The third battle… is about to begin.”
The wind picked up the glass fragments, blowing them towards the distance.
The Goddess and the Hero stood side-by-side. Behind them lay the broken Cathedral and shattered holy statues; above them, the black clouds were gathering once more.
But this time, the Hero’s eyes held more than just fear. He gripped the Holy Sword tightly. Though it still lacked light, a firm resolve, which he could not deny, rose in his heart for the very first time.
—Because he knew that even if the abyss lay ahead, the Goddess’s embrace was enough to hold up the world.