In the final remnants of the world, the God of Assassination left nothing but a curse and a title as a last will.

[Godslayer]

A forbidden title that hadn't appeared in the world for a long time.

This dangerous appellation represented many things—the hero among mortals, yet also the enemy of the divine.

Godslayer.

This term, deliberately buried in history, encapsulates the mortal's most resolute rebellion against divine rule, bearing a weight terrifying enough to overthrow divine power.

Not only is it the highest honor for mortals, but it also deeply stings the nerves of the divine.

​From a certain perspective, this dangerous title is akin to the sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of the Gods.

It symbolizes the pinnacle of glory that mortals can reach, yet is also a poisoned dagger piercing divine dignity.

It is both honor and curse.

It's the most venomous challenge mortals issue to the supreme beings, sharply reminding them—they can still be killed by mortals.

"You will be killed."

"You will be dragged down from the sky by the ants at your feet, tearing apart your eternal, immortal falsehoods."

The voice of the God of Assassination was not loud, but the taboo title, hidden for a thousand years, echoed tremors in the void, with every syllable as sharp as a poisoned blade.

The divine recalled some memories they thought they had long forgotten.

Since the Belief in Gods ended the prolonged war against the Ancient Gods, no new divine has been born for many years.

Though some deities fell, they all died by the hands of their own kind.

And now, they have completely recalled that long-ago... fear.

The God of Assassination's last words were not in praise of Herbert's bravery but were born entirely from pure malice.

It was provocation.

Not meant to stir the relationship between Herbert and the Sun God, but to put Herbert against all divine beings.

People say: When a person is about to die, their words are kind.

But in Herbert's view, the occasions this applies to are actually very few.

The number of people who can suddenly wake up at the last moment and recognize their mistakes is very small.

Precisely because it is rare, their awakening seems particularly precious.

And more people remain obsessed, thinking they were right, until the moment of death approaches.

As the saying goes, the rivers and mountains change easily, but nature is hard to change.

This is indeed the true reflection of most people.

Strictly speaking, the one who killed the God of Assassination was the Sun God, unrelated to Herbert himself.

Herbert was merely a vessel bearing his will and power, just a mere tool.

It's like someone killing another and saying it wasn't by them, but by the weapon.

The killer is not me, but the weapon.

But the problem is, this wasn't said by the murderer, but by the victim.

The God of Assassination's last words were purely slander and guidance, attempting to induce all divine beings to harbor malice towards Herbert.

He will ultimately die, but Herbert will certainly perish.

At some point, a deity will be unable to resist avenging him.

He will wait expectantly in the Abyss for that day to come.

—Even though the God of Assassination had been thoroughly obliterated to ashes by the Sun God, never to witness that moment.

"..."

After hearing the God of Assassination's last words, Herbert squinted slightly, quietly observing the lifeless head.

In everyone's eyes, his current situation seemed rather dire.

Herbert understood his relationship with the Sun God—there was none.

Although he didn't know why the Sun God saved him, it was probably driven by dislike for the Evil God, acting on impulse.

There was no friendship between them, and the Sun God would not stand by Herbert in the future; after he left, Herbert would undoubtedly become the target of divine resentment.

Even though some divine beings understood this, they still regarded Herbert as the challenger to God's dignity.

He would face this fearsome storm from the divine alone.

Though not the murderer, he was inexplicably burdened with the crime of killing a deity, which was unquestionably unfortunate.

In this matter, Herbert might not be innocent, but certainly, he was undeserving of such a fate.

"..."

Vaguely, Herbert felt the gaze from the heavens above—their divine eyes watching him.

Malicious, hesitant, reluctant, repugnant... the emotionally diverse complex gazes all focused on him.

Clearly, some of them were convinced.

Feeling the multitude of divine malice, Herbert distinctly sensed the temperature around him drop.

Crisis.

But...

"Ah."

After a brief silence, Herbert sighed: "So, is this your limit?"

He regarded the scorched remains of the divine with a rather indifferent sneer.

"Ha, this is it?"

Herbert sneered, saying dismissively: "Is this the last trick you thought of until the end?"

"You really let me down."

"Indeed... how boring!"

Trash.

This was Herbert's final evaluation of the God of Assassination.

Strength, none; brains, none.

Now it seems even intrigues don't suffice.

Truly worthless.

After all this thought, you end up with such a low-grade scheme?

A dying speech delivering a scheme?

Even if in the end you said your treasures were buried somewhere in the ocean?

At least it could generate some exploration interest.

But now...tsk.