The Goddess's Might Saves the World - Chapter 9 - Part 3

Yuggla’s massive body began to tear itself apart with a furious roar. His roots became a thousand torrents of bl00d, churning violently in the Earth’s core, desperately trying to reshape him.
“You can’t kill the world, for I am the world—!”
“Wrong,” the Hero stepped onto the void, white flames roaring to life on his Holy Sword. “We’re not killing the world, we’re—giving it a new birth!”
“Holy Flame Resonance Array, activate!”
The Goddess pressed her hands together, and the radiant flames on her chest condensed into a flower-shaped halo. The halo expanded, covering the entire root realm like petals, forming a sacred ring.
In the center of the ring, the Hero’s figure was enveloped by the stream of fire. He raised the Holy Sword high, its tip pointed directly at Yuggla’s heart.
“—Flame-Heart Descent!”
He plummeted with a bellow. The moment the Holy Sword pierced the core, the Earth’s entire heart violently reversed—the light, which had been held in a deadly implosion, exploded outwards. Yuggla’s body was instantly saturated with the torrent of flame. This was the resonant fire of God and man: a pure, creative energy the very roots of existence couldn’t withstand.
The black roots were incinerated one by one, and the structure of space began to collapse. The world, like a body from which the core had been ripped, started to disintegrate outwards.
The Goddess caught the Hero’s descent with the light from her chest, the flames from her divine form forming two radiant, arc-shaped halos that shielded them both.
“Hero—it’s not over yet.”
She raised her head, the light in the depths of her gaze like the furious birth of a sun.
A transcendent light, neither mortal nor confined to shape; it surged from the Earth’s heart and spilled down from the clouds, as if the entire world were drawing a single, deep breath. That breath carried with it temperature, memory, and pain, as if all creation was using its last remaining strength to prove—”I am still alive.”
The Hero stood silently in the scorched sacred domain’s center, gripping the Holy Sword with both hands, the blade driven deep into the soil. The wind whipped past his shoulders, carrying countless particles of light that swirled around him, like stars in orbit. The Earth ceased to crumble; instead, it began to gently pulse, like a newly awakened giant. This tremor was no longer a destructive roar, but the low, profound hum of life being rekindled.
He raised his head and looked into the distance.
The nascent World Tree exploded from the ground, its roots interwoven like ten thousand dragons thrashing. Every twist, every expansion, carried immense power. The crown stretched towards the cloud layer, tearing open the remaining darkness and allowing the colors of dawn to seep in.
The bark shimmered with interweaving patterns of gold and white. These were no longer scars, but the Goddess’s living prayers. They pulsed like a great heartbeat, transmitting light and warmth across the entire world.
“…She succeeded.”
The Hero muttered. His voice was faint, almost inaudible, mixed with the wind and the tremor.
Suddenly, the ground emitted a deep, rumbling sound—like ten thousand hearts beating at once. Countless luminous roots erupted from the soil, gently wrapping around his ankles, arms, and chest. It wasn’t a restriction, but a calling—a profound kind of…