Even though she had no idea what was happening, Liliana knew that clinging to Hikaru was her safest choice at the moment.
He was clearly planning to get closer to the battlefield—but wasn't that basically a death wish? It was terrifying. Absolutely terrifying!
Liliana had witnessed the descent of a Heretic God once before, and the dreadful aura still haunted her.
Now, several years later, yet another Heretic God had emerged, reawakening her deepest fears.
That was a genuine evil deity—one that descends upon the world bringing calamity, an existence permitted to annihilate the entire planet and humanity if it wished.
She'd faced powerful Holy Knights and godlike progenitors before without the slightest fear. But now her face had turned pale; she wasn't even thinking about fighting back.
If only she could save a few more lives... Perhaps, she thought, that might atone somewhat for the mistakes of her youth.
"Come with me," she said. "I'll take you somewhere safe."
Hearing that, Hikaru only smiled a little. Liliana looked so pitiful, yet he felt no hesitation. He was more relieved to see how stubbornly kind she was. That unwavering resolve deserved recognition. Still, one matter was one matter:
"Go help whomever you can. We'll talk later."
With those words, Hikaru strode into the storm. Fierce winds battered his body, yet he stood firm.
Liliana wanted to run after him, but she froze. Only then did she realize that the torrential rain wasn't even touching him. His clothes, hair—even his shoes—were completely dry.
Thanks to her keen witch's eyes, Liliana spotted the reason: about five centimeters from his body, an invisible barrier repelled every drop of water.
The raindrops parted around him, leaving a circle of dryness in his wake. It was clearly the fruit of the water magic Hikaru had learned.
Liliana could only stand there, stunned, watching him fade into the downpour. By the time she snapped out of it, he was already gone.
…
Meanwhile, the battle between "Rahu" and Vishnu raged on.
Vishnu's fish-form was covered in wounds, whereas Rahu only grew fiercer. Indeed, the Asura's fury soared at seeing the enemy who'd once lopped off his head.
There was a kind of vindictive satisfaction in trampling Vishnu. Although, well… that fish form was pretty ugly. Did fish even have knees to beg for mercy?
Perhaps aware that the fish avatar was simply too weak and heading for defeat, Vishnu shifted strategy.
The massive golden fish swiftly transformed, its gleaming scales turning into a coat of bristling quills. Within moments, the fish had become a colossal wild boar with tusks.
Rahu, who had been grappling the beast, suddenly felt a stabbing pain and jerked his hands away, realizing his palms had been punctured in countless places.
The boar's bristles were sharper than steel needles, and even Rahu couldn't escape unscathed.
"Curse you, Vishnu! I'll kill you today!"
Enraged by his injury, Rahu howled in fury. One of his four arms grabbed an eight-pronged spear and drove it straight into the boar's flesh.
Vishnu let out a cry of pain but retaliated by impaling Rahu's abdomen with its tusks. Hot blood, like molten lava, seeped out and poisoned the water around them.
Any surviving humans still submerged in those waters found their limbs rotting almost instantly where Rahu's blood touched them.
The shock waves of their blows and the deafening clashes were impossible to describe. For anyone watching from a distance, this looked like a scene out of a sci-fi movie—one that no human could ever interfere with.
In reality, humans couldn't see gods unless a Heretic God chose to manifest visually. As a result, the average person simply believed the world was ending. Even if they could sense the unnatural roars shaking the air, none of them was in any state of mind to think calmly.
…
Hikaru didn't rush in to join the fight immediately. Even if he planned on becoming a god-slayer, he knew to look for the least risky way to get what he wanted. Better to let Rahu and Vishnu fight a bit longer, giving him a chance to gauge their combat methods.
The battle between Rahu and Vishnu had reached a fever pitch. Earlier, the wind had been random and chaotic; now, thanks to Rahu's fury, it tore across the land like an endless explosion. Within that raging storm, Rahu's body grew even larger.
According to a story in the Dirgha Agama, Rahu dwelt north of Mount Sumeru on the ocean floor, and his body exceeded the height of Mount Sumeru by ten thousand yojanas, reaching twenty-eight thousand yojanas.
On the fifteenth day of the month, he would shift forms, and even the sea couldn't rise higher than his navel.
(In this context, one yojana equals 11.2 kilometers, so that would make him over three hundred thousand kilometers tall. For reference, Earth's circumference is only about forty thousand kilometers—meaning Rahu's body alone could be on the scale of a planet.)
Of course, as a Heretic God, Rahu couldn't possibly take on such a literal size—or the other Heretic Gods might as well give up. If he actually reached that mythical height, he could crush a planet with one hand.
Here, Rahu's growth stopped at around three thousand meters. Vishnu's boar form also grew in response, balancing out the difference in size somewhat, but the battle was starting to tilt in Rahu's favor.
Hikaru found it a bit odd: Vishnu was supposed to be one of the top-tier gods of the Trimurti, with myths stating he could cross the universe in just three strides—capable of subduing demon kings and, in his Kalki avatar, arriving before the world's destruction on a white horse to restore cosmic order.
Compared to that, Rahu's origin seemed relatively unremarkable—a minor figure who stole divine nectar, got his head cut off, and then took revenge on the sun and moon.
Yet here in reality, it was the opposite: Rahu was holding his own against Vishnu's avatar. It was a fierce, evenly matched struggle—if not leaning slightly in Rahu's favor.