Chapter 746: A Perfect World (Grand Finale)

"The perfect method."

Witnessing this scene, Lolth recalled…

She had indeed discovered that "perfect method."

While relying on the temporary solution of teaching "more gods" to weaken Xiletor, she and Kululu had also uncovered a permanent cure.

Her three reincarnations, three hundred and sixty thousand deaths, those shattered authorities, and even her previous life’s corruption into the Demon King invading the main plane…

None of these had truly been failures.

The plan simply hadn’t reached its full completion yet.

Though some aspects had strayed from the original design, all her desired outcomes had ultimately been achieved.

When Lolth fully regained these memories…

She returned to the "World’s Backstage."

These very memories served as the key to accessing this realm.

"Haa—"

Lolth exhaled slowly.

The endless void contained only scattered manifestations of solidified "concepts"—authorities created by the Goddess of Creation "Xiletor" that remained unclaimed, still directly subordinate to her.

This place retained its remembered desolation, though appearing slightly more chaotic and emptier than during her last visit.

The "authority" had diminished once more—it dwindled further with each arrival.

"Even the elemental winds, earth, waters, and flames are absent… Well, the Elemental Divine Thrones must be functioning."

It was during the Second Era that Xiletor had slain her using those very elements… How delightfully ironic.

Lolth murmured while gazing at the Xiletor beside her—not the Goddess of Creation, but her sister in this lifetime.

This was the portion she’d meticulously separated from Xiletor, completely untouched by "malice."

"Forgive me, sister."

Her eyes shimmered with genuine remorse.

Xiletor smoothed her hair, savoring the familiar comfort of this "World’s Backstage" she considered home, before quirking her lips.

"Are you apologizing to this lifetime’s me… or the complete version of me?"

Lolth paused before responding, "Both, I suppose."

"Then spare your breath. Though this might contradict my other self’s perspective, know that I wholeheartedly support you."

Xiletor clicked her tongue and draped an arm over Lolth’s shoulder.

"Admittedly, escaping that ‘malice’ feels liberating—like sudden recovery from chronic illness. Even if it’s artificial separation rather than true healing, the relief remains tangible."

"My approach was modeled after mental illness treatment," Lolth sighed, "though being an amateur, I could only devise such unconventional methods."

"I sense this will prove effective—ah, you’re truly brilliant, dear sister. Retrieving you from another world remains my second wisest decision."

Xiletor smiled warmly.

"What’s the first correct answer? Marrying my sister-in-law?"

Lolth countered.

"Slaughtering you myself at Demon King Castle was pure bliss."

Xiletor laughed heartily.

Observing the vivacious Xiletor beside her – unchanged since their first encounter in the primordial void before creation – Lolth massaged her temples. "You still harbor resentment about this plan, don’t you? Even without corruption’s influence, these thoughts persist."

"Obviously. Since when can’t creation goddesses have tempers?" Xiletor shrugged defiantly.

"Good. Maintain this passionate optimism – we’ll need it." Lolth paused, then added softly, "Though given how often you’ve slain me, any bitterness should be mine."

Xiletor tilted her chin upward, challenging. "Yet here you stand unharmed."

The chaotic goddess grinned, her hair undulating through non-space as kaleidoscopic concepts morphed into blood, unicycles, and flora that drifted past her ears. "You’re no different."

Lolth’s palm rested gently between her sister’s shoulder blades. "It’s time."

Her whisper echoed through the endless void as she stared into its abyssal heart.

"Such faith you place in me – demanding I repudiate my own existence."

"I know… but I must ask this, sister."

Their gazes converged on the emptiness where divinity slumbered. Where Xiletor herself lay dormant.

The Goddess of Creation.

Lolth extended her right arm, pink flames erupting from her palm to define the formless void. Chaotic divine energies unfurled – imperfect, cobbled together, yet sufficient to manifest her transient Divine Kingdom bridging cosmic veils.

Xiletor embraced the slender goddess from behind, her arms encircling Lolth’s fragile frame. "Awaken ‘me’."

Bending under the weight of eons, Lolth hoisted her sister piggyback. "Indeed… rise and shine, dear elder."

Her murmur dissolved as they plunged into the infinite. The newborn kingdom imposed gravity and orientation upon the directionless void – concepts as natural to Lolth as breathing.

Here, where she’d always belonged.

Lolth carried Xiletor on her back and ran forward, flames erupting beneath her feet, kindling fires from the last encounter, the one before that, and countless previous battles.

Each blazing footprint linked together, forming a flaming trail.

These were the traces of her endless journeys.

At the end of this incandescent path, she beheld another Xiletor—awakened from sealed slumber, brimming with malice and apocalyptic desires.

The dark gown clung to her form, tangible malice writhed around her, yet her face remained hauntingly beautiful enough to quicken pulses.

Crimson eyes flickered open as raven locks cascaded downward.

"You’ve returned again, my dear sister Lolth."

"Indeed, I vowed to return and stop you, my beloved sister Xiletor."

Lolth’s laughter echoed through the void as the chaotic concepts permeating this space suddenly aligned with Xiletor’s awakening.

Her realm of flames, never particularly robust, now seemed insignificantly fragile.

"Foolish endeavor."

The "Goddess of Creation" Xiletor gazed down imperiously, extending a single finger.

"Ah—I comprehend."

The concept of "Penetration" materialized, striking Lolth bodily.

Crimson instantly bloomed across the running figure.

With dwindling remnants of "Eternity," smoldering ashes of "Feasts and Revelry," the hollowed mantle of "Abyss Lord," and this era’s "Spatial" authority, she challenged Creation’s dominion—the goddess who forged existence itself, empowered by the world’s collective will.

This was indeed an act of monumental folly, scarcely distinguishable from suicide.

She had embraced this mortality countless times before.

Along the fiery trail, mingling with her footprints, lay the scorched remnants of her former bodies and fractured souls.

"You’ve grown weaker still—you think these cobbled powers can hinder me?"

"You cannot even fully sever my influence over your realm now."

The Creation Goddess flexed her fingers, imposing hundredfold gravity that bowed Lolth’s stance.

Truth rang in her words—during their first confrontation when "Eternity" remained intact, even the Creation Goddess couldn’t casually manipulate concepts within Lolth’s domain.

Lolth felt her soul’s cohesion failing.

"Ah, true—but dearest sister…"

She advanced through gritted teeth, flames roaring higher with each step.

"Your weakness mirrors mine."

Lolth slammed a palm against her chest as she spoke.

Her form momentarily renewed—pristine for one heartbeat before wounds reappeared, yet that fleeting instant persisted…

A perfect body superimposed over her current state, drawn from bygone days.

Kululu’s "Archives and Seals."

The "Goddess of Creation" Xiletor’s brow furrowed.

"Then simply ‘perish’."

She declared, attempting to invoke the concept of "Death".

Yet Death remained unresponsive.

"Ahahaha—that one’s already been claimed!"

Lolth laughed mockingly as she observed the inert concept. Sitting primly with the ash-gray crown clasped in her hands, Kanor seemed to perceive her own image through the fleeting connection between "Backstage" and reality, her lips forming silent words:

"Proceed, Master."

"Do you believe such measures hold significance?"

Next came "Disease" and "Senescence"—yet neither proved effective.

"Earl Mahe, your efforts are duly noted."

Following the failed invocation of Pestilence’s dominion, the Terminal Goddess—once deity of Magic and Wonders—inclined her head in solemn acknowledgment.

"Purification" followed, equally futile.

"Mother’s got you covered."

Mila’s melodious voice resonated through the void. Though having ascended through the concept of "Light", her status as the paramount deity of the main plane and prolonged slumber naturally granted mastery beyond mere illumination.

The greater portion of the main plane’s consciousness, Plane Will itself, had been severed and contained by her machinations.

"Let us maintain propriety—’instructor’ would suffice, Mila. Your penchant for theatrics remains tiresome."

The "Creation Goddess" Xiletor narrowed her eyes coldly.

"Having restructured the ascension paths of arcane power, devised countless apotheosis methods, and nurtured generations of disciples—was all this labor merely to fuel such futile resistance?"

Fuen maintained her grasp over "Life" and "Order".

Luna’s command of "Stasis" remained absolute.

Trish had seized control of "Banishment" and "Severance".

A Qiu had bequeathed "Blade" and "Penetration" to Lolth.

Elemental forces remained shackled to the "Artificial Divine Throne".

Though "Darkness" and "Umbra" had reverted to their unclaimed state, Sayr’s final act had compelled them unto Lolth’s keeping.

Even the abominable "Dark Deities" spawned by the End of Days had siphoned fragments of the Creation Goddess’ authority—though Lolth considered their existence merely fortuitous anomalies.

"Yet concepts and dominions are infinite, Lolth. This pathetic aggregation cannot hinder me."

"Moreover, reclamation remains ever within my reach."

The chaotic amalgamation of disparate divine authorities did indeed hamper Xiletor, the Creation Goddess.

But only as passing shadows dim the sun—momentary obstructions, nothing more.

Ultimate reabsorption remained inevitable.

The true fulcrum rested solely with Lolth—the singular existence in this cosmos sharing Xiletor’s primordial essence.

Yet as the Creation Goddess had proclaimed…

Lolth had now weakened as well.

The authority of "Eternity" could no longer sustain a binding potent enough to cast her into slumber once more.

Every past "interruption" of the End of Days had been achieved through such means by Lolth herself.

"No—this time, I never intended to make you sleep either."

Lolth advanced step by step.

"This time… I come not to delay you… but to stand before you."

Her flames blazed to the farthest point she had reached in her previous advance.

Time and again she pressed onward, each stride carrying her closer than before.

Last time, she had been but a single step away.

And so… this time.

She took that step.

After three eras—an expanse surpassing eternity itself—she finally arrived beyond the world’s furthest edge.

Flames surged upward in a towering inferno.

Lolth and Xiletor stood face to face once more.

"Beloved Sister Xiletor… this time I shall end your madness permanently."

Even as she spoke, Kululu’s "gift" expended its final vestiges of power.

Before the architect of all existence, no concept remained absolute.

Not even the dominion of "Time."

Countless wounds manifested across Lolth’s form in an instant—her flesh, psyche, and spirit unraveling simultaneously. Torrents of blood spilled forth as agony beyond measure wracked her being. Though Lolth had long transcended mortal frailty through endless trials, even she could not suppress anguished screams beneath this onslaught.

"Aaaaaaaagh!"

Her shriek echoed through the void as corporeal and spiritual essence threatened dissolution.

These were not merely the wounds accumulated during her pilgrimage, but the aggregated suffering of every torment she had ever endured!

From the First Era’s self-immolation through three hundred sixty thousand deaths, corruption by the End of Days, contamination by primordial malice at reality’s brink, to being cleaved by blades bearing the Plane Will itself—

Every ordeal, every devastation—now compounded upon her essence in a single catastrophic instant.

Xiletor, the Goddess of Creation, gazed upon her with profound pity etched across her divine countenance.

"You stand before me at last… to what end?"

"I seek only to forge an impeccable reality—one where your assistance could yet prove valuable… Do not court annihilation needlessly, Lolth."

"Your scheme reeks of folly."

Lolth collapsed gradually, her strength spent.

"Not folly."

A soft utterance pierced the stillness.

The Creator Goddess Xiletor turned in surprise toward the voice’s origin.

It was standing behind Lolth…

Another Xiletor.

"Her plan is flawless—you fool."

A voice dripping with more arrogance than the "Goddess of Creation" herself rang out as Xiletor, proclaimed as Lolth’s "sister," launched herself at the "Goddess of Creation" Xiletor.

Here stood a being of equal standing to the Goddess—another iteration of herself, more akin to her essence than even Lolth could claim.

This was precisely why the "Goddess of Creation" Xiletor had instinctively overlooked her presence.

And this was why—when the other self surged forward—she found herself incapable of evasion.

The two Xiletors fused seamlessly the instant they made contact, the merging executed with unnatural precision.

This also explained why Lolth had preserved countless fragments of her memories and essence—not merely because she was the most dependable "warden," but because she had been rehearsing this very moment through endless trials.

A scientist at heart, she demanded empirical verification for every stratagem.

"Is this your grand scheme?"

Xiletor’s shocked cry reverberated through the air.

Below them, Lolth—kneeling in agony—heard this exclamation of disbelief and erupted into distorted laughter.

"Ahahahaha—AAAAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"Indeed! How unexpected, isn’t it? Esteemed Goddess of Creation! Beloved sister!"

Within the soul of the "Goddess of Creation" Xiletor, a mirror-voice resonated from her own depths, harmonizing perfectly with Lolth’s taunting words.

"Now behold with all your being—the ‘perfect’ world you’ve wrought!"

Memories cascaded into the divine consciousness. To a being of the Goddess’ stature, these recollections of Xiletor’s mortal roles—"succubus," "Lolth’s sibling," "former Demon King," "champion," and "Trish’s companion"—were as insubstantial as moth wings and scattered stardust.

Yet…

The truth remained: the "Goddess of Creation" Xiletor possessed no genuine memories of lived experience.

Though imbued with the world’s will, neither omniscient nor omnipotent, she had eternally observed existence from celestial heights.

Her creations she watched from shadowed wings,

These teeming realms in the endless void mere entertainment for her detached gaze.

To experience differs utterly from mere observation!

Especially for one like Xiletor—born to eminence, swaddled in cosmic purpose since her first breath.

Crucially… unlike the detached deities from Lolth’s ancestral legends,

(Those aloof gods uncaring of mortal trivialities)

Through millennia of coexistence, Lolth had ascertained—their soul-structures mirrored each other near-perfectly.

This goddess knew joy and wrath, sorrow and delight—her emotional spectrum as vivid as any mortal’s.

Even when corrupted by "malice," her destructive impulses weren’t mindless annihilation—

The craving for destruction came first… then came the corruption.

Thus unfolded Lolth’s intricate-yet-simple design:

Fourth from the endgame’s crescendo came repeated self-sacrifices to weaken Xiletor, paired with the nurturing of newborn deities.

In the third to last step, at the opportune moment… separate a portion of her soul untouched by severe corruption, carry it away, and bestow upon her "a fragment of life."

In the second to last step…

Reveal this fragment of existence to her.

Xiletor, the "Goddess of Creation," witnessed these memories and lived experiences.

Within a bleak abyss far removed from beauty, beneath a crimson-tinged firmament, two young succubus maidens played amidst a cluster of elder succubus sisters.

"I ask you, Lolth… why must we sway upon this plank suspended by twin ropes?"

"Silence, Xiletor! We’re children – this is how children amuse themselves."

"But this tedium! Why not resume last night’s ‘game’… that parchment ritual with patterns and numerals where we deduce sequences through mathematical laws?"

"Perilous talk! Such pursuits might see us dissected for study…"

"Dissected? Explain this term."

"Never mind that – these are secret scholarly endeavors… Though I’ll admit you turtle-egg, you’ve unexpected aptitude for treating ‘advanced calculus’ as recreation… Must I acknowledge my elder sister’s superiority?"

"Your praise is appreciated."

…

Years later, within the same abyssal realm, Xiletor gnawed contemplatively on a mineral chunk in their cozy den as Lolth crept inside like shadow given form.

The younger succubus unfurled her cloak, releasing a cascade of verdant vegetables and sanguine meats.

"Ventured to the main plane for sustenance again, I observe."

"Base slander! All provisions were lawfully bartered."

"Ah, so we should say you clandestinely visited the surface realm for victuals?"

"Since when did my sweet sister grow this impertinent? Will you partake or not?"

"Gluttony compels me! Why spurn such delights?"

"You perplex me – savoring both abyssal ‘fare’ and surface nourishment with equal relish…"

"Who can say? Both please my palate. Shall we prepare broth today?"

"Nay. I procured two Balrog-forged lava slabs and volcanic salts – tonight we feast on stone-grilled meats!"

"Anticipation quickens my -"

"Hush… What stirs beyond our threshold?"

"Lolthlinda! Have you trespassed on the main plane again?"

"Damnation – Mother comes! Flee!"

"But I’m innocent! Why should I -"

"And you, Xiletor! Complicit in your sister’s mischief – know you where she wandered? The Church of Light!!"

"By the abyss! No wonder you fled – Lolth, tarry for me!"

"Delay not!"

"Whose fault trails us? Yours, entirely!"

…

In the main plane, within the Demon King Castle.

"Shift change… I’m completely drained."

"Indeed, you’ve worked hard, elder sister. I’ve sealed all portals to alternate planes already. You should rest now."

"True… Since I’m here in the main plane… I should explore."

"You absolutely should—any particular destination?"

"Not really. Suggestions? Don’t you frequent this realm?"

"How should I know… Wander as you please."

"Understood—Oh, rumors mention a ‘Hero’ emerging, gathering forces against us. I must observe."

"Exercise caution. Don’t let the Hero recognize and slay you."

"Worry not—I’ll merely glimpse from afar."

…

At the Adventurer’s Union in a remote village.

A striking short-haired maiden in leather armor heaved a gargantuan lizard carcass—ten times her size—onto the entrance steps. The longsword on her back gleamed in the sunlight.

"Consider it handled."

"Our eternal gratitude… Here’s your payment!"

"Keep your coin. This trifle suffices."

The villagers exchanged puzzled glances as the warrior gestured to herself, tucking stray hairs behind her ear.

"Travel provisions only. As the Hero, I care little for riches."

"Truth told, I seek worthy companions. Should any here possess exceptional talent, step forward."

"Mind this—I’ll tolerate no mediocrity!"

Within the gathered crowd, Xiletor observed the radiant warrior through narrowed eyes.

"Allow me this trial!"

Metal sang as she unsheatathed her ceremonial blade. The disguised demon advanced with measured steps.

"Arnold Elro," came the practiced introduction, "A bladesmith consumed by swordcraft—might I cross steel with you?"

Xiletor’s lips curved as the Hero’s fiery gaze locked onto hers.

"Trish Diana. The Hero."

Flames from the campfire danced twin infernos in the warrior’s piercing eyes.

…

Upon windswept plains where firelight wrestled with shadows.

Xiletor—masquerading as the human youth "Arnold Elro"—settled beside the knee-hugging Hero. The crackling flames painted gold patterns across Trish Diana’s contemplative face.

"By the way, why do you wish to drive out the Demon Army? Because they’re evil?"

"No. Though I don’t understand why the demon race came to the main plane… their rallying cry is ‘Reclaim our homeland.’ After researching historical records… perhaps they shouldn’t truly be considered ‘invaders.’ Still, I’ll stand with humanity—as the ‘Hero’ chosen by the Plane Will, and as a human myself."

"How intriguing. I thought you’d cling to righteous conviction."

"I cling only to what’s right—I detest war, Arnold. That’s why I refuse to raise an army… The fewer casualties, the better. Ideally, I’ll slay the Demon King single-handedly and send their kind back to the abyss."

"Very well. In that case, I shall assist you."

"My thanks, Arnold…"

"Have you considered what follows, Sir Hero?"

"What follows?"

"After expelling the Demon King—what becomes of Miss Trish beyond her heroic mantle?"

"Should I speak it now?"

"Did I not ask precisely that?"

Xiletor’s question rode the prairie wind caressing their faces, firelight dancing as logs crackled.

Trish Diana raised her gaze to meet Xiletor’s.

Sword-calloused yet unexpectedly slender hands crept across the earth—delicate fingertips nudged Xiletor’s palm open, slipping inside to intertwine.

"When that time comes… let’s wed."

"I’ll bear your child."

"To live with Arnold Elro—this is Trish Diana’s true wish."

By the flickering flames, Xiletor hesitated briefly before meeting those luminous eyes and dewy lips.

Their mouths joined in silent covenant.

…

Alongside these dreamlike memories flowed bitter currents of regret.

The frustration when slaying Lolth. The ache of parting from Trish. The remorse upon learning of her progeny.

Rage. Shock. Anguish. Agony.

Conflicting emotions swirled—sweet and acrid merging.

Every memory surged through her divine essence.

Even as Creation’s Goddess…

Tears traced silver paths down her cheeks.

"This… is true perfection."

Lolth murmured from her seated position, lifting her face.

Her spiritual wounds had mended with Xiletor’s silent weeping.

"If this is your desired ‘perfection,’ doesn’t it render existence rather tedious?"

The demon queen tilted her head, laughter bubbling forth.

At that moment, Xiletor had completely merged with the other Xiletor.

They were sworn sisters bound by oath, yet also sisters by blood.

The "malice" within Xiletor subsided.

She wiped away the crystalline traces of tears and turned to Lolth.

"I want to live together with Trish, Mom, you… and everyone," Xiletor whispered, her voice trembling like autumn leaves.

"Ah, nothing could be more natural," Lolth replied softly.

"But… it’s impossible, Lolth."

The dormant malice stirred anew.

This primordial "malice" had become inextricably entwined with Xiletor’s "hunger for annihilation" – a fusion no temporary calm could pacify. Eventually, it would devour her will completely.

"Ah, precisely why this is the penultimate step."

Lolth’s lips curved knowingly as she raised an index finger.

"One final step remains… Entrust it to me, elder sister."

She rose gracefully, the hem of her garment brushing the ground as she faced Xiletor.

Then came the embrace – tender yet resolute, wrapping around the sibling who’d walked eternity’s path with her.

"Entrust it all to me."

Lolth repeated, her words carrying the weight of cosmic truth.

The world’s foundational malice and Xiletor’s crystallized destructive impulses began flowing toward Lolth like rivers reversing course.

Corrupted threads twined around her soul.

This was the culminating phase of Lolth’s design – her previous "contamination" no mere accident.

A calculated trial.

As the only existence matching Xiletor’s cosmic stature, what her sister could endure… she could bear twofold.

"Wait—"

Xiletor’s eyes widened with horrified realization.

"You mustn’t—"

"Decades of preparation, sister. Consequences measured, burdens accepted." Lolth’s embrace remained steady, her voice tranquil as moonlit waters. "Grieve not overmuch."

The transfer accelerated – primordial malice, destructive yearnings, swathes of the world’s essence… all shifting to Lolth.

This malice was the world’s birth-cry made manifest.

Necessary at genesis… but now? An obsolete relic.

Like the chaotic void predating creation myths – best left forgotten.

Thus the world gained freedom.

Xiletor too became free – shedding her "Creation Goddess" mantle.

Dark tendrils coiled through Lolth’s consciousness.

Yet as anticipated…

"Truly, I’m the ultimate slacker and hopeless idealist…"

She marveled at her own psyche, where the darkest impulse remained merely wanting eternal slumber.

Still, remaining here proved impossible.

"Farewell… dear sister."

Reality itself rippled as she channeled her signature spatial magic.

"Where?!" Xiletor seized her wrist.

"To a ‘perished world’ – one already steeped in ruination’s dregs."

Lolth’s smile held dawn’s warmth.

"Fear not. I detest tragic sacrifices. Merely… need time to metabolize these."

She stepped backward through shimmering spacetime.

"Until my return… offer my apologies."

"But believe this – I will return."

(The End)