Chapter 743: The First Cataclysm

The world continued to flourish with increasing vitality.

Three civilizations progressed at remarkable speed, while mindless creatures proliferated across the lands.

All things thrived in prosperous harmony.

Those endearing little beings delved into the mysteries of "magic," and under their respective goddesses’ guidance, elevated their civilizations to astonishing heights within mere millennia.

From her hidden observatory, Lolth watched with profound satisfaction.

"Ah, we’ve truly accomplished something extraordinary."

Every effort made in this once-desolate realm—whether as the "Creator’s Right Hand" or the "Timeless Divinity"—proved its worth through this blossoming reality.

Xiletor standing beside her gave only the slightest nod of acknowledgment.

"Yet… imperfections persist."

Throughout these thousand years, despite abundant resources and universal equality, discordant notes of "strife" and "clashing wills" still emerged.

Souls and human nature remained fundamentally untamable.

Such was the essence of all living things.

The exalted beings meant to transcend mortal frailties found their ascendant powers paradoxically birthing new afflictions—the celestial fire that elevated them now scorched their essence.

Truth-seekers and power-hungry aspirants…

Countless minor incidents flickered through the ages, yet Lolth maintained serene confidence in their containment.

With Xiletor’s vigilance complementing her own oversight, what could possibly go awry?

Though occasional blemishes marred the tapestry, theirs remained a world of breathtaking splendor.

At the very least, Xiletor’s guardianship ensured plagues and armed conflicts stayed confined to theoretical realms.

Yet the Creation Goddess herself seemed increasingly shrouded in melancholy.

In truth… during their initial encounters, this primordial entity born from the world’s consciousness—this living embodiment of cosmic purpose—had possessed scant traces of what mortals might recognize as emotion.

Her emerging persona crystallized through prolonged interaction with Lolth, gradually refining itself through the sacred act of life-creation.

Thus even this peerless embodiment of divine will, this Architect of Existence, continued evolving through the eons.

Millennia accumulated like fallen leaves as the cosmic dance continued.

Once more, Xiletor mechanically invoked the World’s Will to halt the Ailuo civilization’s foray into Artificial Soul experimentation—those overreaching youths clearly lacked the metaphysical stature to avoid creating tormented, flawed consciousnesses destined for anguish and catastrophic outcomes.

Not that she particularly cared about preserving her divine dignity… though that’s precisely how she’d framed the prohibition to Kululu through celestial decree.

Witnessing this familiar ritual, Lolth released a soft sigh resonating with maternal weariness.

"Such vexations inevitably accompany growth, much like parenting’s endless trials."

The observation hung briefly in the ether before Xiletor’s uncharacteristic interruption:

"Could our foundational approach be flawed?"

"Might the very concept of bestowing transcendent abilities constitute a primordial error?"

The unprecedented questioning caught Lolth mid-breath, her response momentarily suspended between instinctive reassurance and dawning uncertainty.

"I don’t know, but the situation remains manageable."

She remarked, only for Xiletor to suddenly sigh.

"But what if we’re fundamentally mistaken? These minor issues accumulating into catastrophe…"

Xiletor’s voice trailed off into silence once more.

After an extended pause, she finally continued.

"Perhaps we overlooked something vital. This world isn’t some ‘game’ or ‘film’ we can patch at will… which means we neglected proper ‘testing’."

Yet in that precise moment, Lolth attained crystalline clarity – whether as her present self or the observer spanning countless millennia and epochs.

"It truly does… contain flaws."

This world inherently carried "flaws".

No, more accurately… it harbored fundamental defects.

"Wait, Xiletor. Even considering this a trial – if the test version fails, what becomes of the lives forged within it…"

As Lolth spoke, Xiletor lapsed into prolonged silence.

"Your point stands. Simulated ‘lives’ could never reveal how genuine souls might destabilize reality through their chaotic nature."

"But employing true living beings… ah…"

Xiletor’s eyelids drifted downward.

"It appears perfection demands unavoidable sacrifices."

Her voice grew progressively detached and frosty.

Lolth came to realize the crux of the issue.

She seized Xiletor’s wrist, meeting her as equals for the first time, and peered into the creator’s very essence.

What Lolth encountered…

…was a torrent of malice.

The primordial energies and elevated lifeforms crafted by Xiletor should have eliminated scarcity and suffering entirely…

…provided existence followed predetermined paths.

But… vibrant souls would never conform so docilely.

Even in this "flawless realm", this utopian construct, primal darkness kept emerging from life itself.

For malevolence needn’t manifest as overt wickedness – subtle corruptions proved equally destructive.

Countless souls, each bearing unique wills despite shared origins, could never sustain singular harmonious emotion.

Not even Xiletor’s constant interventions through cosmic will altered this truth.

Malice might bloom from excessive thirst for knowledge, love curdling into hatred, stubbornness born of misunderstanding, or confidence warping into arrogance.

It could even manifest as…

…this morbid pursuit of "perfection".

Though Xiletor erased each malicious manifestation, their residual shadows endured.

And being inextricably linked to her creation, every flicker of darkness inevitably tainted Xiletor herself.

Not even a creator goddess… could attain flawlessness.

"My vision demanded a perfect world. This… this cannot suffice."

Xiletor’s unfamiliar tone unsettled Lolth.

"Let us dismantle everything… Lolth."

"You’ll assist me, yes? You pledged your aid."

Xiletor turned, smiling at the hand clasping hers.

Lolth’s lips parted.

The instant Xiletor’s resolution solidified…

…the world-will serving its mistress reconfigured reality’s tranquil foundations.

Planar energies began convulsing chaotically across continents.

Thus emerged the inaugural magic tide –

humanity’s first encounter with celestial catastrophe.

Lolth released Xiletor’s hand.

"No… this cannot be…"

Her whisper hung suspended as Xiletor exhaled.

"How regrettable. Will you too abandon me?"

Reality itself ruptured – deluges swallowing civilizations, heavens splitting asunder, constellations trembling on annihilation’s brink.

"Remember well, Lolth… your sacred vow."