Gacha Addict in a Matriarchal World

Chapter 45: I'm Not A Heretic (3)

One Who Devours the Twilight.

As an organization poised to emerge as the main antagonist in the early to mid-parts of the story, One Who Devours the Twilight was vast in scale and wielded significant influence, boasting a collection of individuals each more unhinged than the last.

In the labyrinth city, a place rife with danger from countless incidents and accidents, they were considered a top-tier organization.

This cult, obsessed with the Goddess of Love to the point of madness, believed everything in the world should be surrendered to the goddess.

They were heretics who saw the remnants of gods and miracles as the dying embers of civilizationtwilightand felt it their sacred duty to gather these by any means necessary and offer them to the goddess.

The specifics of their misdeeds were unclear, but what was certain was their reputation as the most nefarious group in existence.

While villains in the latter half of a story often come with complex backstories, isnt there something satisfying about having a detestable foe to outright despise in the early to mid-parts?

One Who Devours the Twilight fit that role perfectly.

Cloaking their vile deeds and insanity in the guise of faith, they acted with brazen impunity. Despite the universal agreement on their need for eradication, they scattered and concealed themselves like cockroaches, proving exceptionally difficult to eliminate.

Thus, if asked for my opinion on One Who Devours the Twilight, I would respond without hesitation.

Theyre fatherfucking bastards.

Hmm?

Interest sparked in Karens eyes.

The Goddess instructed us to love the world, our neighbors, our family, and above all, ourselves.

Thats the final verse of the Regenerations.

The Regenerations, this continents equivalent of Genesis, narrates the rebirth of the world following its destruction.

In its conclusion, the Goddess of Love offers guidance on how humanity should live in the regenerated world.

Nowhere does it state that we must love the goddess. This holds true not only in the Regenerations but across all scriptures.

Thats

Karen, visibly taken aback, received my words with a firmness that seemed to drive the point home.

Because the Goddess of Love does not beg for love.

!

I had invested considerable effort into the character of the Goddess of Love. She was the last transcendent being, a survivor from an ancient era and the ruler of the labyrinth.

And she was destined to be the final boss.

The Goddess of Love was not inherently evil; she was merely exhausted.

All the deities she could have shared eternity with were gone, and faced with an endless solitude, she chose self-destruction.

Yet, as the sole deity remaining on the Pan Continent, she couldnt simply abandon everything, especially since civilization still heavily depended on the labyrinth.

Thus, the Goddess of Love resolved to forge her successor. She deemed the labyrinthan intricate stage, a graveyard teeming with monsters and unclaimed wonders, alongside adventurers slowly honing their skillsas the perfect proving ground.

Should one conquer the labyrinth and ascend to demigod status, they would be worthy of inheriting her divine mantle, ensuring the worlds seamless continuity.

Hence, in the labyrinths deepest recesses, straddling the twilight of one epoch and the dawn of another, the goddess fervently prayed for someone to emerge as her vanquisher.

Yet, the protagonist defied the goddesss final plea. Undeterred and desperate, the goddess confronted him, seeking her demise at his hands in their ultimate confrontation.

Despite having meticulously crafted her character, I found myself questioning whether the Goddess of Love truly manifested as I had imagined. After all, she was no mere mortal but a deity.

Even without absolute certainty about the goddesss nature, the temples doctrine aligned perfectly with my vision.

This allowed me to confidently declare:

The Goddess of Love is an eternal being. Her love is about giving, not receiving.

It mattered not if the world changed, with more non-believers than followers.

She would continue to love the world, its people.

Unchanging love was a phrase reserved solely for the Goddess of Love.

This is why One Who Devours the Twilight were the villains.

Do you know what they call someone who preaches about a love the goddess does not desire and destroys what she cherishes? For starters, I call them an ungrateful daughter of a dickhead.

Ha! What a splendid expression. Ive learned something new today.

Karens laughter seemed to dispel her weariness. Ian stood by, stunned, while Ellie and Lydia appeared troubled.

Had my words truly been that shocking? Perhaps I should moderate my language in the future, especially around these two.

Some claim its unbecoming for a woman to swear. It seems Ellie and Lydia might share that sentiment.

Jonah. Your sincerity is clear. I will set aside my unnecessary doubts. But may I inquire about something that has piqued my curiosity?

Please, do.

Your disdain for One Who Devours the Twilight is unmistakable. Yet, I detected a faint, contradictory emotion in your gaze.

Human emotions are inherently complex, allowing for contradictions. The tongue, much like a sword, can divide what is mixed in the mind the moment its expressed, and those words cannot be retracted.

I partially agree, but thats not my point.

Then, what is it?Findd new 𝒔tories on nov/e(l)bin(.)com

Jonah. While you clearly despise and condemn One Who Devours the Twilight as evil, you also harbor a peculiar fondness for them. This isnt a simple matter of love and hate coexisting; these feelings, though simultaneous, are not unified.

You noticed that too?

Yes. Its quite unusual, so while Im not questioning your integrity, I must ask, for claritys sake, what kind of emotions enable this?

Its nothing extraordinary.

With a wry smile, I spread my arms wide, as if inviting her to observe me closely.

I fundamentally love everything in this world.

Yes?

Before Karen, who looked astonished, I continued earnestly.

The majestic Pangrave Cliffs. Magic and aura. The way filthy adventurers emerge one by one as the sun sets, clutching monster parts in their hands. The scum of the slums. Orphans with nowhere to turn. Male prostitutes in garish attire. Female adventurers drawn to them. The temples chorus of worship. Ramshackle wooden buildings. The magic tower, a marvel of magical engineering. The rhythmic hammering from the workshop district. The former adventurer, now missing an arm. The aspiring knight, dreaming of glory. And the inquisitor, brimming with questions.

Was it my words that overwhelmed her, or something else entirely? I smiled broadly at Karen, who stared back, mouth agape.

I love everything in this world.

After all, this is my world.

Even if it stems from the petulance of a child.

Its a world filled to the brim with the things I cherish.

Even if theyre despicable fanatics.

Surviving in this body has been both daunting and difficult.

Or an enemy I could never forgive.

Yes, my life has occasionally been at risk.

I love everything in this world.

But my affection remains unwavering.

After all, I am a writer, and this is the world of the novel I created.

It encompasses agape, philia, and even eros.

Defining this emotion is challenging, but it aligns somewhat with any definition you choose.

This is the love I hold for this world.

So, does that answer your question?

Karen remained silent, not because she lacked a response, but because she seemed lost in thought, her gaze fixed on something beyond me.

Her eyes, wide with astonishment, sparkled with pink hues.

For a long while, she remained motionless, unable to blink, speak, or move.

Eventually, tears began to stream down her face, and she knelt, clasping her hands in prayer.

O goddess

Im not a goddess?! Im a man!

Only now do I truly understand your words.

Are you even listening? More importantly, why are you crying?

Surprised, I gently wiped away her tears with my sleeve. Suddenly, a radiant light enveloped her body.

It was a soft pink, reminiscent of fluttering petals, soothing my mind and body to the point of near-melting.

The only force capable of such an effect, in that particular hue, was the divine power of the Goddess of Love.

As if receiving a divine revelation, Karen found herself imbued with immense divine power, continuing her prayers with a face awash in religious ecstasy.

Why is she suddenly experiencing an awakening?

How long did we stand there, watching, unsure of how to react?

Karen, having leaked divine power like a broken faucet, finally regained control and rose to her feet.

With her dark circles halved, she appeared more human as she spoke.

Jonah. You truly should consider priesthood.

Id rather not.

Evangelism. Troublesome.