The situation kept changing, over and over again, until the disappearance of the Valhalla Gate that had threatened to consume the entire world finally brought the stunned Ariadora back to her senses.
Did the Merseys manage to escape again? And the person who saved her shouted, "Berserker State – Phase Four!"?
That would mean that person is the Goddess of War, Zet?
After all, the ability called "Berserker State – Phase Four" is something only Zet can use. Humans couldn't even learn Phase Two, let alone Phase Four.
Wasn't this woman locked in the well at the Divine Green Forest?
She had been the top general under the God of Violence during the Divine Realm Unification War, yet she managed to escape?
Could something massive have happened in the Divine Realm?
No—she had to return to the Divine Realm immediately and confirm. And the fact that Valkyrie had been erased by Merseys was also a serious issue.
So, Ariadora once again forcibly invoked her divine power, trying to summon a portal back to the Divine Realm.
"Urgh—!"
At that moment, a mouthful of black-red blood surged from her throat, while a scorching pain burned through her body. Her vision began to blur.
"Still trying to use divine power in this condition? You must really think life has been too easy, huh."
There was no sympathy—just a scornful voice mocking her for overestimating herself.
Yukino turned toward the voice, shocked to see a figure clad in golden knight armor standing several meters away.
If this were any other time, Yukino would have glared in anger. But now, she knew there was no point in such powerless emotions.
Then, she saw black blotches begin to appear all over Ariadora's body. Poisonous miasma erupted like fireworks, and just brushing against it felt like being branded by red-hot iron.
Yukino winced in pain.
"If you don't want to die, then let her go!"
The voice sounded again—void of any sympathy for the goddess.
"You're sympathizing with these gods? Heh. Let me tell you something. Gods are not to be trusted. Why do you think you're even here? Isn't it because of the gods? So if the gods end up like this, they brought it upon themselves."
His words dripped with scorn, as if he had suffered at the hands of gods before, fueling his deep mistrust.
"I don't know what kind of grudge you have with the gods, but I believe she truly loves humanity."
Yukino shook her head, unwilling to let go. That kindness Ariadora had shown her wasn't fake—she'd even risked her life to save her.
This goddess named Ariadora was, without a doubt, a genuinely kind goddess.
"Loves humanity, huh?"
He muttered as if it were a joke. Yukino couldn't see his face beneath the helmet, but she could easily imagine the sarcastic expression, like someone laughing at an unbelievable lie.
"If that's the case, then let me show you the true face of this so-called goddess you admire."
As he said that, a crystal orb appeared out of thin air in his hand, glowing with an eerie light. A beam of light shot out from it, striking Ariadora's forehead before Yukino could react.
In the next second, the scenery around them changed.
"This... is her memory?"
"That's right. Go ahead, take a peek into her memories. See the ugliness of a so-called goddess."
The confirmation in his voice left Yukino stunned—then angry. Forcing one's way into someone's memories was despicable.
"Let's see where it is…"
He gently rubbed the crystal orb, seemingly searching through Ariadora's memories.
"Oh? Found it this fast? And this one's full of guilt—let's see just how disgusting this goddess you love really is."
With his pointed words, the surrounding scene refreshed again.
They were now in what seemed to be a poor rural household. Ariadora sat with a slight frown, eating food offered by the villagers—potato stew clearly meant for common folk.
Beside her was a simple village family, watching her and a woman who seemed to be a hero as they ate.
The villagers and their children were visibly malnourished, and the potato stew—though humble—was likely a luxurious meal for them.
Yet the goddess seemed to eat it with disdain.
The real Ariadora, still cradled in Yukino's arms, seemed frozen in time.
"Look. The fake goddess, deliberately luring the villagers into worshipping her, making them gaze at her in joy. Isn't it disgusting?"
His voice was full of contempt. Yukino frowned, wondering if this illusion was being manipulated to deceive her.
Just as Yukino was about to express her suspicions, she noticed something.
"Can you rewind this scene a bit and play it again from earlier?"
"Oh? Sure. Let's see how she deceived these humans."
Like a movie rewinding, the memory flashed back to the moment when Ariadora and the hero first arrived at the impoverished village.
From the start, Ariadora and the hero had never wanted to burden the villagers. Their lodgings and meals were humble, no different from any ordinary villager, and they ate with sincere gratitude.
Then a child got injured, and when Ariadora secretly healed him, her true identity as a goddess was accidentally revealed. In gratitude, the villagers insisted on giving their best meal—the potato stew.
Ariadora frowned not because she disliked it, but because she felt guilty about eating the family's special meal saved for the upcoming New Year celebration.
Why didn't she refuse outright? Because doing so would only make the villagers feel that the goddess was scorning their humble offering—driving them to risk their lives in the monster-infested forest to find something better.
And as for why she was so powerless despite being a goddess? It was due to the laws of the Divine Realm—goddesses assisting heroes had to enter the mortal world in human form, without divine strength.
"Gods are fake. Keep watching. This is just an act—once she leaves the village, you'll see."
The golden knight's words remained full of doubt.
But as they continued to watch, they saw Ariadora and the novice hero stumble through the forest, collecting resources as compensation for the villagers.
The knight seemed slightly shaken now, though to Yukino, he still looked like someone refusing to admit he was wrong. He kept searching through the goddess's guilt-laden memories, only to find more of the same—trivial mistakes, minor regrets.
"Here. This one seems more intense—"
"Do we really need to keep spying on her memories? Why not just admit it already, you ridiculously biased knight?"