The reincarnated devil was blessed by the goddess

"What's wrong, my little painter?"

When Theresa's vision returned to focus, she was standing under a blue sky.

There is no ground here.

In other words, the entire space is like an endless piece of glass, reflecting countless broken battlefield images.

Theresa's soles rippled, each step creating ripples like the surface of water.

In the center of the space, the goddess of war, Emidal, reclines on a throne woven from broken weapons.

"Why... don't you help her..."

Theresa raised her head and looked directly at the shadowy figure towering above her.

She couldn't see his true face clearly, she could only vaguely catch a glimpse of his outline leaning lazily on the throne.

"Why should I help? What reason do I have to help?"

Emidal tapped the armrests of the throne with his fingers. Each sound was like a war drum, causing a dull echo in Theresa's chest.

"Her story is over and she can't give me any new plot anymore."

Theresa certainly understood the hidden meaning behind these words. After all, when it comes to destroying the world, only Sunflower stands on the opposite side.

"Then I'll do it!"

The girl suddenly took a step forward, and her shoes crushed the countless faces reflected on the glass floor.

Emidal finally sat up a little straighter.

"But your story...isn't exciting at all."

The god's chuckle slithered down his spine like a venomous snake, and the water surface suddenly reflected images of Theresa's past.

Those moments of hesitation, the shaking hands, the self-doubt in the middle of the night.

"If you hadn't wasted your energy on her, you could have easily broken free from her clutches at this point in time."

The embers of war fell on Theresa's shoulders.

"Your so-called growth along the way is all an illusion. You're not even sure if you've become stronger. You're just stumbling forward like a blindfolded fool. You're just pretending."

The chains of war slowly climbed onto Theresa's body, reflecting every moment of the girl's self-deception.

"How boring would a story be for someone who just passively accepts their fate?"

Emildal opened the book in his hand, and many weapons jumped out of it.

The cold light reflected the moment when countless adventurers burned their lives.

The foolish courage of mortals who do things knowing that they cannot do them, and the last ray of light shining on the wings of a moth as it flies into the flame.

"Do you know why I only favor adventurers?"

Emidal suddenly blew a gust of wind towards Theresa.

That was replaying the scene of Strelitzia standing in front of Edric.

"They always say you never know until you try, even if you're dealing with a god."

The breeze penetrated into Theresa's mind, clearly reflecting Strelitzia's trembling fingertips.

Those hands were clearly so frightened that they could barely clench into fists, yet they still stubbornly rushed forward.

"See, this is the most moving contradiction. Because I am human, knowing I will be shattered into pieces, I still leap. Flesh and blood must resist divine punishment. This absurd yet magnificent contrast is worthy of being called a story."

The moment when Strelitzia's punch fell from the sky and the karmic fire engulfed her body was a beautiful ending that made even the gods tremble.

He would never allow anyone, especially this cowardly tamperer, to destroy this masterpiece.

"Yes......"

Theresa's voice suddenly became unusually clear, and she slowly tore free the cold chains wrapped around her body.

The war chronicles engraved on those chains broke into pieces at her fingertips.

"I've been pretending... pretending to be strong... so I deserve all the pain I've endured..."

When the last chain fell, her golden eyes burst into brilliant light.

"Let me...go back..."

Emidal suddenly chuckled. "What can you do when you've exhausted all your strength? Even she has chosen to withdraw, so what else can you do?"

"You talk a lot."

Theresa suddenly interrupted the god's words, kneeling on one knee and pounding the glass floor with her bloody fists.

"The so-called goddess of war... turns out to be a chatterbox?"

The space suddenly fell into an eerie silence.

Emidal covered his lips and chuckled, "The term 'war'... is just a label imposed by mortals."

All the suspended weapons suddenly turned into flying pages of books, and the throne turned into a huge gold-embossed book.

The goddess' figure appears and disappears as the pages turn.

“I’ve always considered myself…more of a devoted reader.”

"Really? So now... are you looking at me..."

Theresa's fists continued to mechanically pound the ground, and blood bloomed into dazzling flowers on the glass-like ground.

"If you weren't special enough, why would I cast my gaze on you, my dear little painter?"

The goddess' voice still held that chilling gentleness, and the water reflected Thearesia's disheveled appearance.

"So...that's how it is..."

Theresa suddenly stopped moving. She slowly straightened up, her blood-stained hair clinging to her pale face.

Under Emidal's playful gaze, she made a shocking move.

She stretched out her bloody hand to the god.

"Give me money."

The air freezes.

"What?" Emildal showed a rare moment of surprise.

"You have to pay to read the story. It's only natural."

Theresa's eyes were startlingly bright, as if flames were burning in her golden pupils.

Her palms remained motionless, blood dripping from her fingertips into the void. "You've watched for so long, it's time to pay me."

silence.

Then, the whole space suddenly echoed with ethereal laughter.

"Hahaha... Interesting, so interesting! Money? Didn't you notice? You can already speak normally."

Theresa was stunned for a moment, and her fingers gently touched her throat.

Indeed, the burning pain had dissipated at some point, and the voice was no longer hoarse.

"Then you should reward me."

Theresa stubbornly extended her hand again, staring at the god with scorching eyes. "The rest of the story will be even more exciting and will definitely not disappoint you."

Emidal slowly restrained his smile, and he supported his chin gracefully.

"very good......"

The voice of the Goddess of War suddenly became low and joyful, and She gently came to Theresa's side.

The body is surrounded by the faint flames of war, which is the majesty tempered by thousands of wars.

"I, the goddess of war, Emidal, have stepped on millions of scorched earths baptized by the flames of war and witnessed the smoke of countless battles!"

In an instant, the goddess' voice rose, carrying an unquestionable sacredness.

"Now, I bless you! With the courage to shout out to fate, break the injustice of this world. Let everything develop in the direction guided by your heart!"

Emidal's figure gradually dissipated like the morning mist, but her voice became clearer and clearer, as if it echoed directly in the depths of Theresa's soul.

"Go and rewrite it, my little painter. Use the brushstrokes of resistance! Let me witness an unprecedented and wonderful chapter."