Chapter 175
Theo understood clearly that what Aldraya meant was his wandering journey through many lifetimes, which turned out not to solidify loyalty as the blind obedience of a subordinate.
There was something broader that had been touched, and the agent of change from that archaic point of view—though Aldraya might not have spoken the name—was none other than Theo Vkytor himself.
Woooooh!
'As long as I've followed every scenario in Flo Viva Mythology, there has never been a scene like this.
This is truly off-script, beyond any possibility I've ever known.'
"Such an outrageous attitude of yours is only worthy to be displayed toward a vile and barbaric being."
Uuuuhh!
"From your dedication since childhood, throughout your efforts in the world, until now and forever, I refuse to consider you part of My creation."
Fooooohh!!
'I understand. To Him, Aldraya is nothing more than a slave whose worth isn't even high enough to be sold.'
But what happened next was something completely unexpected.
Throughout all of Theo's observations of the scenarios in Flo Viva Mythology, there had never been a scene like this.
The tense atmosphere suddenly tore open with the arrival of a dark wind slipping in from nowhere, carrying with it a worrying shift.
The spectral cry that usually echoed as a curse toward anyone who insulted Quil-Hasa twisted into a new and more terrifying formula.
That oath was now directed at anyone who betrayed Quil-Hasa, and who could not continue their responsibility as commanded.
The change in those words was like a lock sealing fate, adding a condition of failure atop the sin of betrayal.
Then, the most frightening element began to move.
The Divine Throne itself, the seat of light and paradox that had until now merely stood radiating authority, advanced forward.
It approached with a steady, unstoppable pace toward the spot where Aldraya stood.
Its movement was not mere physical displacement, but a shift in reality—a declaration that space and the Creator's will were one and the same.
Aldraya, whose eyes had bulged since the beginning as she watched the creeping horrors around her, could no longer suppress her primal instinct.
The fear and trembling she had long suppressed burst out in the form of a backward retreat.
Her legs, as if possessing minds of their own, pulled her body two steps back, away from the throne's inevitable approach.
For four seconds that felt like four centuries, the process continued.
Aldraya managed to step back, but it was a small, meaningless victory.
Her face still tried to maintain a flat reaction, the last defensive fortress of her crumbling pride.
Yet, from the glimmer in her eyes that flickered too fast, from the breath held too tightly, the shivering fear in her heart shone through.
And then, from within the core of the moving light, Quil-Hasa's voice echoed once more.
It was no longer calm and analytical, but a rebuke filled with frozen hatred.
The Creator, in His weakest form or smallest fragment present there, scolded Aldraya's conduct.
The words were sharp and degrading, declaring that Aldraya's insolence was indeed the kind fit to be shown by a being vile and barbaric in nature.
The statement was not mere anger, but a reclassification—placing Aldraya into the category of the lowest of beings.
Furthermore, the final verdict was delivered.
Quil-Hasa stated firmly that the entire span of Aldraya's devotion—from her innocent four-year-old self to all her attempts at redemption in the suffering human world—was meaningless.
From this day onward and forever, Quil-Hasa would no longer consider Aldraya His creation.
However, what was more devastating than the words was the action that accompanied them.
Quil-Hasa's eyes, which usually regarded everything with untouchable cosmic serenity, glanced briefly at Aldraya's body.
For Theo, who peeked from behind the bushes, that brief look carried a meaning far crueler than simple rejection.
It was a look that regarded.
Not regarded as an enemy, nor as a former child, but regarded as an object.
A cold glance one would throw at a slave too worthless to be sold, for it had no value whatsoever in the eyes of the master.
Aldraya had been reduced from a former Supreme Angel to something not even worthy of being counted as property.
'A single drop would be enough to make the heavenly spring surrender and vanish, as though unable to bear its purity.'
Fiiiih!
'And now that I'm seeing it with my own eyes, I know exactly what's happening.'
Uuuusshh!
'This is that moment. The moment I've only ever seen as a player from behind the screen—the moment that marks the birth of the Hideous One.'
This was the beginning of the first antagonist among the ten great figures whom Ilux Rediona would one day face.
And I am witnessing it directly, not as a gamer, but as someone standing inside the story.'
After everything occurred, the atmosphere that had trembled with terrifying divine power suddenly subsided, vanishing like a broken nightmare.
The green field with its golden-glowing grass, the tall bushes, and the majestic trees—all remained in place, unchanged in the slightest.
This false heavenly realm returned to its original state, as though the heart-shattering encounter had never happened.
The area where Aldraya stood, watched from within the foliage by Theo, remained the same, yet now felt emptier and quieter than before.
The smallest fragment of Quil-Hasa had disappeared without a trace, vanishing entirely from the place.
His departure was so complete that it was as if no divine being had ever been present, no painful words ever spoken, no departure ever leaving a scar.
There was only a frozen emptiness before Aldraya, a void more torturous than His presence.
Aldraya herself no longer stepped back.
She froze in place, her feet planted firmly as if embedded in the ground.
Her pupils shrank into two sharp black dots in the middle of pale blue fields, reflecting a shock so deep it surpassed expression.
The shock was no longer about the words—it was about the finality of everything she had just experienced.
Even though the atmosphere had returned to "normal," nothing inside her had.
And amid that physical stillness, a subtler and sadder process continued.
Her tears were still falling.
The clear droplets streamed continuously from the corners of her eyes, each carrying a sorrow so pure and concentrated.
Once again a miracle and tragedy unfolded in the world's reaction to her tears.
Each drop of Aldraya's tears, as it fell, never touched the ground.
It evaporated the moment it reached the lower part of her cheek, even before nearing her mouth or chin.
The evaporation was not caused by heat, but by something more poetic and painful.
The purity of the sorrow within those tears was so strong that even the water from the extinct heavenly spring powering this illusion could not withstand it.
They lost the contest, evaporating first upon contact with the unbearable authenticity of her suffering, as though this false realm felt shame and deemed itself unworthy to touch such real grief.
Meanwhile, Theo Vkytor, from his hiding place, had managed to fill five pages of his yellow notebook with dense notes.
He recorded every detail, every tremor, every tear that evaporated while Aldraya "sobbed" without understanding why she was crying in the first place.
Now that the notes were complete, Theo shifted his full attention to observing Aldraya closely.
To be continued…