The Goddess's Might Saves the World - Chapter 8 - Part 1

The world, even after the war, still held the lingering warmth of the Abyss. The holy light, unleashed by the Divine’s Cleansing Burst, hadn’t completely scattered; instead, it gathered in the far northern sky, forming a thin vein of light that pulsed slowly between the heavens and the earth, like the very heartbeat of fate.
The Goddess stood perfectly still on the shore, which the tide had washed clean, as the sacred flame on her Core gradually settled. The Hero knelt beside her, grasping the reforged Shattered Sea-Fire Blade in both hands, its last embers vanishing on the wind. They thought everything was over, until a deep groan echoed from the far reaches of the world.
That sound belonged neither to man nor god. It travelled across thousands of miles of ice, sweeping over the boundary between day and night, carrying an ancient and cruel call—like the deep, rhythmic heart of a primordial dragon. The temperature of the coast dropped sharply in a matter of moments; the sea spray instantly froze into ice crystals, and the movement of the air was locked, sharp as an invisible blade.
The Hero looked up to the north, watching the celestial aurora slowly swirl in the sky, resembling a vast, ripped silver tear. That light was no longer gentle; it was cold, piercing, and heavy with the aura of judgment.
“…That is a new summons,” the Goddess whispered, the sacred light upon her chest trembling with her words. She raised her hand, and a faint glow, rising against the intense chill, ignited in her palm. The Flame of the Divine Core spun upon her chest, meeting the aurora…
…the self that used to be him. His breath grew ragged, his cheeks covered in frost, and his thoughts shattered until he could barely remember his own name.
Meanwhile, the Goddess was imprisoned within the ‘Frozen Future’.
Frost bloomed like a toxic flower, coating the Goddess’s entire body in a thin armor of Chrono-Frost, making her look like a sacred statue. She attempted to channel her Divine Power, but found the light upon her chest no longer pulsed; the Divine Hearthfire, which should have burned like a star, was now crystallizing slowly, inch by painful inch, until even the last wisp of steam condensed at the peak of her Aura, transforming into a bead of biting ice.
Gracia looked down at them both, her voice delivering a sentence of judgment:
“Even the Goddess’s Flame will eventually die out.”
In that moment of absolute freezing, the Goddess’s eyes blazed with a final, residual light. Her Divine Hearthfire hadn’t gone out completely; only a faint glow remained, flickering stubbornly in her heart like a dying firefly. This light cut through the absolute lock on time and flashed into the Hero’s eyes.
He instantly regained his senses, as if waking from a nightmare, and a low growl tore from his throat:
“She… hasn’t lost yet!”
He raised his remaining sword, setting his own soul on fire like a torch, and delivered the Chronos-Cleaving Strike. The sword did not shatter the frost, yet it recalled a sliver of the Goddess’s consciousness.
—A clear chime sounded.
The icy bead shattered, and time fractured.