Chapter 1983: Baga Island Battle Conclusion P01
Chapter 1983: Baga Island Battle Conclusion P01
Watching Shir's predicament, God Raashim sighed.
It was a slow, bitter sound.
Then, he chuckled. Not with amusement, but with defeat.
He came to realize that Shir or his subordinates wouldn't be able to make it in time.
Everything was hopeless.
God Raashim could have still called upon his followers for help directly.
However, most of the Templars had already been sacrificed. The remaining followers were low-level mana practitioners, powerless in this battle.
The sacrificial ritual was a mistake. Especially when Eren had let them perform the sacrificial ritual willingly without offering any real resistance.
In retrospect, it was like axing the very branch one was sitting on. But hindsight is always 20/20—so it didn't matter now.
Raashim's struggles ceased. His muscles relaxed. His divine presence faded.
His skin dulled. His eyes dimmed. His Spirit Body turned completely mortal.
And then… he stopped breathing.
God Raashim… died again. This time, as a faith-harnessing entity.
Now, only one form of God Raashim remained in reality— Shir. And his other avatars spread across distant worlds.
"Fi… finally…"
Eren let go of him and took a deep breath.
The body bent forward like a puppet with its strings cut. It collapsed onto the altar with a dull thud, face first. And just like that—an Immortal was gone. For good.
Unless Shir or one of his remaining avatars in another world managed to ascend and recreate his godhood from scratch, God Raashim was finished.
But would that avatar truly be called God Raashim again?
In the first place, would Eren allow such a hidden danger to exist?
***
Swoosh. Zoom. Crack.
Shir took another heavy blow to his face. The sound of bone cracking was heard.
His head snapped sideways as blood flew from his mouth.
The pain barely registered anymore. The sea monster in front of him looked like a raging storm, its fists crashing down on him like thunder.
Shir didn't even try to block anymore. His arms moved half-heartedly, his focus already lost.
In his half-conscious state, Shir asked himself something.
"If I was given another chance to handle all of this… would I have done anything differently?"
The answer came to him quickly.
No.
He wouldn't have.
Not because he was arrogant. Not because he was stubborn. But because… he had done everything he could with the knowledge he had at the time.
Every command he gave, every sacrifice he made—it had all been based on logic. On strategy. On what any reasonable person in his position would have done.
And that was the problem.
He had been too logical. Too safe. Too… predictable.
In Eren's eyes, he had become an open book. Every plan Shir thought was brilliant had already been accounted for.
Every trap he set was defused before it could trigger. And all of this happened without Shir—or even God Raashim—ever realizing it.
Even the witch goddess didn't know what Eren was truly up to.
Shir's eyes widened slightly, the fear sinking deeper into his bones. Had everything—from the moment Eren disrupted the seal-strengthening ritual on Baga Island to the assassination of the sea god Raashim—been part of his plan all along?
It felt like it.
Even though Shir didn't know the full truth, the results alone were enough to make him believe in Eren's terrifying foresight.
Of course, he was wrong about some of it.
Eren hadn't planned everything down to the last detail. But the way he had adapted, the way he had turned the tide in his favor with each step… it made Shir see him as something worse than a genius strategist.
He was his nightmare.
Swoosh. Zoom. Block.
The fight went on silently.
Shir tried to defend himself again, raising his arms to block.
But the sea monster's next punch came crashing into his chest, hard and brutal. Bones shattered. His ribs caved in. Blood gushed from his mouth in thick streams. His body flew like a broken doll through the air, his consciousness dimming.
He crashed into the earth with a thunderous boom. The ground split open, forming a massive crater nearly a hundred meters deep. The remnants of the sacrificial ritual circle were crushed beneath him, the altar cracked and broken.
Shir lay at the bottom of the crater, unmoving.
His limbs were shattered. His mana had run dry after fighting and commanding his forces through the night. His vision was blurry.
The God Spark that had once given him so much strength was now flickering weakly, its connection cut after Raashim's death. He couldn't even lift a finger anymore.
The sky above was changing. The stars had started to fade, and the first signs of dawn peeked over the horizon.
But for Shir… this was no ordinary sunrise.
It was the dawn of the darkest day in Raashim Temple's long history.
"Do you know that my Erni is called Grimdawn back in his homeworld?"
Someone asked Shir with a playful smile, her voice light and teasing.
It was as if she had peeked into Shir's mind and found the very thought that haunted him. The name hit him like an obvious truth he didn't want to accept.
That madman son of a bitch… he really is Grimdawn. Who the fuck named him so aptly?
Reen jumped down into the crater like she was hopping off a small ledge.
The crater was wide and deep, with cracks spreading out in every direction from where Shir had landed.
Dust floated in the air, mixing with the faint light of the approaching dawn.
Reen landed softly, barely making a sound. Her naked toes touched the broken ground near Shir's head.
Shir lay there, his body mangled, covered in blood, dirt, and regret.
His chest rose and fell in weak, uneven breaths. His limbs were twisted at odd angles. And his eyes—those once sharp and confident eyes—now stared up blankly at the sky. His face was a mix of pain, disbelief, and fading hope.
Shir's lips trembled. He still didn't want to admit defeat. Not completely.