Threatening an Aeon with the fate of the galaxy as a mortal—an inappropriate analogy would be an ant telling a human it will chew through all the grass roots in their backyard if its wish isn't granted... Delusional and foolish.
In a way, the difference between a mortal and an Aeon is even greater than that between a human and an ant. Even if Phantylia truly lost control, there was no possibility of it affecting the Aeon itself.
Aeons cannot be threatened. If such behavior could truly bring Phantylia anything, it might only be Aha, finding her farce so comical, deciding to toss her some reward for the entertainment—and that was exactly what Phantylia wanted.
Although an Emanator of Destruction, Phantylia never expected Nanook to respond to her cries for help in the slightest. After all, that entity obsessed with annihilation wouldn't possess the kindness to care for subordinates. Her hope lay only in other Aeons taking pity and saving her life.
Besides Aha, whose actions were unpredictable, only two Aeons in the galaxy were known to frequently bestow power upon mortals—one was Lan, whose pettiness was explosive, and the other was Yaoshi, whose magnanimity was absurdly vast.
The former, though vengeful, was protective of their own. If the Xianzhou called upon Them, They would indeed descend with judgment. The latter always answered prayers; whoever asked, regardless of who they were, would receive.
But Phantylia's target this time wasn't either of them; Their whereabouts were too difficult to ascertain.
Phantylia could sense gazes from the galaxy belonging to more than one god. But before these Aeons actively intervened, she lacked the ability to discern who they were—after all, the number of Aeons in the world was neither too many nor too few.
The only thing she could be certain of was that with so many Emanators gathered here, causing such a grand spectacle, a certain entity seeking amusement throughout the galaxy must be present!
Aha, the Aeon of Elation... Rather than relying on Aeons whose presence was uncertain, better to target Aha from the start. Phantylia believed that as long as she created a sufficiently comical farce, this Aeon absolutely wouldn't be stingy with Their power! After all, They had done absurd things like stuffing the power of an entire Path into an insect, just for fun.
Besides, an Emanator of Destruction seeking help from Elation was inherently amusing... Aha had no reason not to intervene.
Yes, They had no reason not to help her!
Phantylia stared at the starry sky, her eyes filled with fury and struggle, but hidden deep beneath the surface anger was expectation.
With firm belief, she awaited a response... She could even hear Aha's bizarre laughter, seemingly echoing from beyond the galaxy, right beside her ear!
However, even as her limbs were almost covered by sprouting branches, and distorted horns grew from her forehead, she still didn't receive what she hoped for.
Why...? Her plan should have been flawless! Aeons shouldn't be able to deviate from their Path!
Her performance had been so comical already! Why couldn't Aha feel Elation from it?! Didn't this clownish Path require such clownish behavior?!
As her body's collapse intensified, Phantylia finally felt fear—she didn't understand. She had already thrown everything away, gone to such lengths, why weren't things unfolding according to her plan?
Could she have miscalculated? Could Aha, seemingly watching every amusing event in the galaxy, truly not have cast Their gaze upon this once-in-ten-thousand-years Emanator brawl?
Or had her act of threatening an Aeon truly angered Them? Or had They seen through her scheme and didn't want to help?
Or perhaps... They knew everything, and simply found it more amusing not to help her?
Phantylia couldn't find the answer, nor did she have the strength left to ponder it. The unbearable pain had destroyed her last vestiges of reasoning.
In the blink of an eye, the rampaging power completely transformed her into a half-dragon, half-tree monstrosity, constantly wailing. Judging by the continuously twisting and deforming body, the uncontrollable energies within her were clearly clashing violently.
And Caelus could only lie on the ground, numbly watching it all happen.
Powerless... He just wanted to save Twilight. Why did everything end up like this?
He just wanted the person he liked to live. What was so wrong with that? Did this world simply forbid such a gentle girl from living?!
Not only that, but in the end, even her body was taken, twisted...
Towards Phantylia, who stole Twilight's body, Caelus wished only for her utter annihilation, the more painful the better, just like now—but why did this bastard have to have Twilight's face right now?
Looking at that face, half-corrupted by the twisted form, contorted in agony, Caelus gritted his teeth, propping himself up shakily from the ground.
His luck was good. During Phantylia's frenzied attack earlier, the positions of the others had somehow intentionally or unintentionally shielded him. Thus, he was the only one here still conscious and able to stand.
...Perhaps he just couldn't save Twilight.
It couldn't be helped. He had tried every method possible, yet still failed.
So, maybe it was time to give up... Even Twilight would surely want him to do this.
Looking at the Phantylia before him, who had completely lost her form and sanity, Caelus silently picked up a broken spear from a nearby crevice—whose, he didn't know—and shuffled towards her, step by step. He felt his eyes burning, perhaps from earlier injuries causing blood to drip down... or perhaps tears?
But even if they were tears, Caelus had to do what he must—at the very least, he had to let Twilight's body finally rest in peace, not be occupied by Phantylia and become a disaster plaguing the galaxy. And now, with the energies within Phantylia clashing, perhaps this was the final opportunity... Once the energies within her calmed down, she would truly become a galactic calamity.
He had to find a way to make her explode completely before then...
The maddened Phantylia was completely oblivious to her surroundings. Even as Caelus approached her side with a weapon, she showed no reaction. Only when Caelus truly raised the spear tip towards that face did the surrounding vines react, seemingly out of instinct to protect the body, lashing out towards Caelus like sharp swords!
The next moment, amidst splattering blood, the broken spear Caelus held plunged fiercely into Phantylia's body! Unfortunately, the blood wasn't Phantylia's, but his own.
Just superficial wounds, though.
Already heavily injured, he lacked the strength to dodge this reflexive counterattack. If not for the vines inexplicably shifting angle at the last second, he would likely have been riddled with holes already.
Caelus didn't know if his attack was effective. Although the head was a fatal spot, the Phantylia before him no longer possessed a human form. A fatal injury for humans might mean little to her. But perhaps this sudden external stimulus could push the power within her, already at its limit, into a complete meltdown... like a balloon pricked by a needle.
Fortunately, his attack, launched with suicidal determination, seemed effective in the end.
The sky-piercing plants stopped growing, turning to ash. The twisted dragon scales fell off, returning to illusion—ultimately leaving only a frail figure falling amidst the dust.
He finally did it... He personally killed—
"Urgh..."
A faint sound, like a mosquito's buzz, arose. But in this dead-silent ruin, it was enough to instantly grab Caelus's attention. The sound came from none other than Phantylia, whom Caelus thought he had utterly killed moments ago!
Damn it! Her life force is too strong! Even internal energy conflicts of that magnitude couldn't kill her?!
Seeing the fallen Phantylia still twitching, Caelus ignored his weakened body, randomly picked up a small knife dropped by someone nearby, stumbled and scrambled over to her side, raising it high.
Such a weapon normally couldn't harm any powerful being. But Phantylia's rampage earlier clearly indicated she had completely lost control of her body; otherwise, she wouldn't have been injured so easily by his spear... Stabbing the galaxy's future disaster to death with a small knife, though sounding laughable, might not be impossible at this very moment!
Phantylia didn't look at the descending knife. Her eyes were dim, lifeless. Only her lips moved slightly. "Save... Die..."
Caelus couldn't hear what she was saying, nor was he interested. He just wanted to end the life of this usurper, let Twilight's body rest in peace, and protect the future galaxy.
Yet, he couldn't do it—his hand froze mid-air.
It wasn't his own will stopping the attack, simply an inability to continue. Not just him, but everything around seemed to freeze, leaving only... a gaze.
Only a gaze, descending from somewhere unknown, filled with compassion.
A gaze from that god who seemed to possess a thousand hands and a thousand eyes.