TBR CH37 [Arc 2]

The Dark God, Tarksius, slowly walked down the staircase made of pure gold.  

Behind him, the young man who had just been tender and affectionate with him was surrounded by gold and silver treasures, a trace of confusion and loss flickering in his eyes.  

But the Dark God had always acted as he pleased, so it was not surprising that he suddenly withdrew from his warmth.  

He thought to himself that he had to be prepared for a slow strategy and needed patience.  

He would never lose his composure like some others.  

The young Holy Son, Noah, calculated in his heart. Reaching this step had already gone smoothly enough.  

He had successfully piqued the Dark God’s interest, had been saved like a damsel in distress at just the right moment, and had, through a “fortuitous coincidence,” remained in the Dark God’s palace, spending day and night together, basking in ambiguity and affection.  

Under the influence of his “universal heartthrob” aura, he had no doubt about his beauty and charm.  

Of course, he also had to establish his persona.  

As the Holy Son of the Church of Light, he was gentle, pure, and beautiful—enough to awaken the deepest protective instincts of any race, becoming the light in the depths of their hearts.  

The Dark God had almost fallen in love with him. He definitely would.  

The scent of success was intoxicating.  

Noah swirled the wine in his glass and thought no more of it—  

Until a surge of pure black magic suddenly pierced through his heart.  

A large crystal wine glass rolled to the ground, the crimson wine spilling out.  

As it splattered onto the Holy Son, it looked just like blood—the same red as the blood gushing from his heart.  

The Holy Son reached out, clutching his heart, his eyes filled with disbelief.  

He stared fixedly at the god approaching him step by step—  

The Dark God, Tarksius.

.  

The golden-threaded boots clicked against the stone floor, and a pair of dark red eyes gazed down at him, like dried bloodstains.  

After a long pause, the god finally murmured in admiration:  

“This looks much better.”  

Before losing consciousness, Noah barely managed to activate the life-saving pendant left to him by the Church of Light.  

His last, blurry sight was of the Dark God seemingly about to deliver the final blow—  

But then, as if unable to bear it, the god abruptly withdrew his hand.  

In the dark red pupils of Tarksius, flames surged and then split apart in agony.  

W-What was happening?  

Noah tried to make sense of the situation, but it was futile.  

As the system’s warning alarms blared in his mind, Noah’s figure gradually faded from the Dark God’s temple.  

Far away, thousands of miles away—  

The Church of Light was about to receive the grievous news:  

Their Holy Son had been gravely wounded and was barely clinging to life.  

A great wave was about to rise.  

*  

Tarksius was a deity of this world, standing on equal footing with the God of Light, ruling over all the powers of darkness.  

In terms of raw strength, he was not inferior to the God of Light. In fact, he even held a slight advantage.  

However, the God of Light could draw power from the faith of his followers, which made the two gods evenly matched. Neither found it worthwhile to engage in direct conflict.  

Two months ago, Tarksius had stumbled upon the Holy Son of the Church, who was in distress, and saved the exceptionally beautiful youth.  

He had allowed the boy into his Dark Temple.  

Noah had expressed deep gratitude for this and requested to stay to repay the god’s kindness.  

Tarksius had agreed.  

Before everything unfolded, Tarksius had suddenly sensed an abnormal fluctuation of magic in the Dark Temple.  

At that moment, the hall was dazzlingly resplendent, and the breathtakingly beautiful youth’s eyes shimmered as if with unshed tears.  

He gazed at the god with a look that was both inviting and hesitant.  

Faced with such flawless beauty, the Dark God felt a powerful surge of emotion from the depths of his heart.  

It was an inexplicable feeling, an irresistible force that dictated his actions—  

Urging him to indulge the young man’s every move.  

Some might call this love.  

But even though it masqueraded so well as love, Tarksius still sensed something was off.  

He tried to resist this force, but whenever he made even the slightest progress, a single look from the Holy Son made him lose the ability to think.  

He had fought to slow the process, but…  

If this continued, he knew he would fall in love with Noah.  

Tarksius wasn’t always aware of what was wrong.  

On the contrary, most of the time, his every action felt like navigating through fog, unable to deeply consider anything.  

All he could perceive was how overwhelmingly beautiful the young man before him was—  

How pure and radiant, like a beam of light.  

Even as he tried to suppress his growing affection, the Dark God found himself powerless to change the course of events.  

Until one day, in a side chamber—  

Upon a grand marble table carved from a single slab of stone—  

The Dark God discovered a book.  

A peculiar black-covered book, radiating an unusual magical fluctuation.  

Now, this was interesting.  

Taking about half an hour, Tarksius read the entire book.  

With every page turned, his mind grew clearer.  

The force that had controlled him so unquestionably—  

That had disguised itself as love—  

Was slowly being stripped away from the depths of his soul.  

The Dark God’s slender fingers pinched the final page, his dark red eyes now terrifyingly lucid and ice-cold.  

“Universal heartthrob” aura.  

A system.  

A transmigrator…

Being controlled, being deceived, sharing thoughts, power, and authority with a fraud.

At the end of the book’s pages, the world’s consciousness wrote a plea for help in ink. Tarksius stared at the page for a moment but inexplicably revealed an unreadable smile.

“Wait a moment.”

The evil god’s fragmented black hair draped down, and in the depths of his dark red eyes, there seemed to be frost and thunder. Although he was smiling, his expression barely changed.

The world’s consciousness immediately realized something was wrong. However, before it could rewrite anything new, the dark god shut the book directly.

An uncontrollable power surged from his body, like an abyss shrouded in the deepest malice.

He walked toward the main hall.

The black book had no way to react, nor time to be angry. It fluttered its pages and followed closely behind Tarksius. The world’s consciousness carefully reviewed its earlier exchange with the dark god through written words.

[The Child of Fate used the aura to gain blind love. You must stop him.]

Tarksius raised his eyes, looking careless yet dangerous. “Of course.”

[But you must first pretend. You can’t let him notice, or I won’t have time to deal with the system.]

Tarksius didn’t speak, yet he looked down at it with a hint of disdain in his gaze. His expression was obscure, but he neither agreed nor objected.

Did he… not care at all?

Only then did the black book finally realize it was speaking to the world’s greatest villain as deemed by the system—the dark god. All those settings that yearned for gentleness and kindness were nothing but artificial constraints imposed by the “Universal Heartthrob Aura” to create an opportunity for redemption.

The real dark god couldn’t care less about whether this world perished, let alone about the conflict between the system and the world’s consciousness or the fate of other worlds.

The god walked calmly into the golden palace, then, with a slight raise of his hand, unleashed a power of pure destruction and devastation.

That power pierced straight through the Holy Son’s chest.

Yet, it was not an instant kill. Saint Noah stared at him in disbelief, while Tarksius merely furrowed his brows slightly, about to launch the next wave of attacks.

This was a complete disaster.

The black book had never imagined things could spiral into such a mess within mere moments—it was on the verge of losing its mind. It frantically searched for a solution and, in its desperation, withdrew its power, allowing the “Mary Sue Aura” to seize control of the dark god’s consciousness once again.

This was not an easy feat. Chaos brewed in Tarksius’ eyes as he struggled to resist, but the aura came crashing down upon him again.

In a moment of haze, attacking the boy before him suddenly seemed utterly unacceptable. Uncontrollably, the dark god withdrew the second wave of magical assault.

And in that instant, the boy was engulfed by a surge of light and disappeared from the dark god’s palace.

Well, now, even if he wanted to kill him, it was too late.

Tarksius lifted a hand and lightly tapped his forehead. Though his mind was clashing with two conflicting thoughts, sending sharp pain through his skull like a bolt of lightning, his expression hardly changed.

Once he regained clarity and freedom, the returning chaos only lasted for a moment before being ruthlessly suppressed by the dark god’s power.

The god gazed coldly at the floating black book.

He didn’t ask why—his counterpart had its own position, though he loathed the feeling of being controlled.

However, at this moment, the world’s consciousness should understand that they needed to have another serious discussion.

[This won’t work.]

The black book once again displayed these words. Since their negotiation began, this was already the third time it had said this.

It finally realized that, compared to the previous world’s Demon Lord—who could be considered lawful—this dark god was the very embodiment of chaotic darkness. Trying to persuade him with maintaining world stability and saving others was utterly meaningless.

Not to mention, he had no concern for the storm that would be triggered by the death of the Holy Son.

This alone was enough to give the World Conciousness a headache.

The progress in the previous world had gone smoothly, but it had taken considerable effort to track down the new world chosen by the system. Now, a significant portion of the process had already passed, and the Holy Son had even begun his strategy to “conquer” the dark god. For the system, this was actually quite a favorable development.

The reason for wanting Tarksius to pretend was to ensure the system wouldn’t catch on too soon—before the world’s consciousness was ready to confront it. However, now, the dark god’s sudden attack on the Holy Son had pushed the situation into an incredibly awkward position.

The system must be utterly terrified and confused right now.

If not for the fact that most of its power had been stripped away in the previous world, leaving it in a weakened state and in desperate need of a new world to recover, it would have already fled.

This world was too crucial for the system’s recuperation, so, for now, it was still observing. Moreover, the dark god’s final act had been so straightforward and blatant that it somehow deviated from what the world’s consciousness had expected—ironically, almost washing away his suspicion.

Now, the world’s consciousness had to come up with a reasonable explanation for the dark god’s abnormal behavior.

But before that, it had to convince the dark god.

Tarksius looked nonchalantly at the black book, the embodiment of the world’s consciousness. He actually wasn’t as reluctant to cooperate as the other thought—after all, to him, personally killing the one who had deceived his will was also something he desired.

However, the method was worth reconsidering.

Revealing the Holy Son’s true nature to his intended “targets” was meant to restore the lost destiny to the world, wasn’t it? Tarksius found this rather unfortunate. If that was the case, why not just kill all those pathetic souls?

Dead people couldn’t provide destiny, after all.

Unfortunately, all his proposals were rejected. The ink on the black book’s pages even appeared a little frantic. In despair, it scrawled out a line, then quickly crossed it out again.

That line had read: [Is there a less insane way to handle this?]

Tarksius, however, gently said:

“I was wondering, could you…”

The book’s pages trembled warily as if deeply alarmed by what the dark god was about to suggest. However, he remained unhurried and completed his sentence:

“Could you control the flow of time?”