Chapter 732: Chapter 733: The Priestess Who Prays For Peace Summons Despair. War was chaotic, but everyone had their roles to play. Victory was the result of the collective. Abellona had her role, so she didn’t turn, even when Damon seemed to falter in his battle against Amon. He had won against Ashcroft when he was far weaker than he was now, she believed he wouldn’t die. That was why, even though her own brother’s life was in danger, Abellona focused solely on her mission, her objective. This was what her life on the battlefield had taught her. ’we must all play our roles, or the entire military structure will collapse.’ Blood dripped from the side of her head as she ignored the clash behind her. The sounds of battle, the screams, the explosions, all faded. Only the priestess remained in her eyes. She walked slowly with her spear in hand, blood dripping from its edge, her crimson eyes filled with killing intent. In her heart, she believed stopping the priestess would guarantee victory. The priestess was a beautiful young woman. Her long hair flowed to the ground, and her eyes glittered like stars. It was her ritual that had transformed the heavens into that starry sky. "Is it not beautiful..." the priestess’ soft voice echoed. Abellona glanced at the sky, bright starlight glittering on a canvas of heavenly darkness. The white light illuminating the void had an ephemeral beauty to it. Like all beautiful things, it would not last. "I do not much care for the sight," Abellona replied coldly. "The stars are in the heavens... and all my problems are on the earth." Her tone was soft, but her killing intent bled through each word. The priestess smiled gently. Blood seeped from her eyes, her nose, and the corners of her mouth, yet she remained calm. "He loves the stars... I think because he’s a star too." She smiled faintly, her eyes reflecting that same starlight. "A star is never alone and can’t be lonely... that’s why..." Abellona narrowed her eyes, confusion flickering in them. "He? Who are you referring to—" "Yes," the priestess interrupted softly, her voice calm and haunting. "The Unknown God. He was a star among other stars... yet he left. Now he’s alone." Abellona raised her spear, pointing it at the priestess. "Why aren’t you trying to fight back, or escape?" The priestess glanced at the battlefield, at the chaos, the dying, the endless struggle. She took a slow, shaky breath. "There’s no point... This is my purpose. It’s why I was born. Everything you think is significant in life means nothing. The most significant thing you can do in life ... is die." She smiled faintly and spread her arms. Abellona bit her lip, unease twisting in her chest. "Stop your ritual. Now." The priestess shook her head. "It’s too late. It’s already complete. Everything is here. The first ingredient was me, the star." She raised her hand toward Abellona. "Destruction, the void, his name and book, the seed of depravity in a heart overflowing with a myriad of desires... and lastly, a pure soul that endured change." Abellona’s hands trembled. Her breathing turned shaky. Time was her brother, he had the Time Attribute. The star was the priestess herself. Destruction... was Abellona. But what about the rest? She didn’t know. No—she did. The Void referred to Lilith Astranova, the one who carried the void attribute. But no matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t figure out the others. The priestess’s words echoed in her mind: "His name and book..." Abellona’s blood ran cold. To summon something: a god, a demon, a spirit you needed to know its true name. That realization hit her like thunder. The priestess wasn’t performing a ritual, she was attempting to summon the Unknown God. If a god descended here, it wouldn’t just be the end for them, it would be the end of the world. She gritted her teeth, her body trembling as she thrust her spear forward, impaling the priestess through the heart. "I can’t let you do this! You can’t call forth a god!" The priestess coughed blood, her smile still soft as her lifeblood spilled freely. "I am not the honored one who knows his name," she whispered weakly. "I am merely the sacrifice..." Abellona’s grip tightened. She twisted the spear, blood splattering the ground. The priestess’s vision dimmed, but her thoughts remained. The one who knows his name... is Sylvia Moonveil. She alone was cursed with that knowledge. She was also given the Unknown God’s Journey Book or rather, a copy of it. A copy still carried the same power as the original—because knowledge was power. ’The seed of depravity...’ the priestess thought, her will fading. ’It lies in Amon’s heart.’ He was the heart overflowing with desire, love and hate, greed and joy, despair and hope. He wanted to die, yet still planned for the future. He hoped to die but still planned for the future. Seven souls... seven catalysts. Damon, Sylvia, Lilith, Waton, the priestess, Abellona, and Wendy, the pure soul. The priestess exhaled one last breath. Blood poured freely from her wounds as she whispered, "You... shouldn’t have killed me." Abellona froze. "My death at your hands was the final trigger... one loved by war will destroy even the stars. The last condition... has been met." The priestess smiled faintly, then prayed. Her voice was soft, peaceful. Abellona heard every word of that final prayer. The priestess prayed for peace, for a world where love triumphed and war perished. When her voice faded, the stars above began to die. Blood, mana, and souls were drawn to her corpse in a spiraling current of light and darkness. Abellona felt dread, an indescribable, suffocating wrongness that made her hands tremble. On the opposite end of the battlefield, Sylvia’s Journey Book flipped its pages uncontrollably. She felt a forgotten name surface in her mind, and before she could stop herself she spoke it in an almost inaudible whisper. Lilith screamed as the stigmata on her back burned violently. Damon, standing amidst the chaos after striking down Amon with his [Magical Arsenal], froze as his shadow writhed, his heart of shadow constricting painfully. Wendy fell to her knees, crying out in pain as her horns grew slightly. Waton felt his heartbeat stop for a single moment. And then everyone did. Watching with horror. Strings of starlight descended, twisting together like threads of fate, lifting the priestess’s corpse into the air. Her eyes opened, pitch black. Darker than the concept of darkness itself. "Be still." Her voice was divine yet felt so wrong, as if a million angels were singing but at the same time countless termites were eating at your brain. And the world obeyed. No one moved. No one could. It wasn’t just those in the arena, even those watching from outside couldn’t move. A bird frozen mid-flight, the wind itself paused. Time had stopped. All who heard that voice could only obey.