Chapter 167: Purpose

Deep within the Sacred Heart Monastery, Otto returned to his private chamber, a room steeped in the scents of old books and cold incense.

He pushed open the door, and the sight that greeted him made him pause.

On the broad velvet sofa, a figure was sprawled in lazy abandon.

She wore a pure white nun’s habit, identical in every detail to Litt’s, outlining a similarly slender silhouette.

Even the shine of her smooth hair in the dim light was nearly indistinguishable.

Yet her posture was anything but sacred or devout.

At that moment, the Automaton was completely lacking in decorum, sunk deep into the sofa with one leg carelessly slung over the armrest, her hand resting behind her head.

Even when she heard the door open, she didn’t bother to fully lift her eyelids, only casting Otto a glance with eyes that, while strikingly similar to Litt’s, were now filled with a languor unique to Letia.

Even so, she didn’t get up, simply rolling over to continue lying down.

Seeing the Automaton like this, Otto rubbed his temples.

He just couldn’t figure it out—why did this Monastery doll, who looked more like Litt, end up inheriting more of Letia’s personality?

“Ella, have you finished your work for today?”

Ella, that was the name he’d given the Automaton.

And thanks to his repairs, the ball joints on her body were now mostly concealed.

At this moment, she looked nearly indistinguishable from a normal human.

“I’ll do today’s work tomorrow, and tomorrow’s work the day after… Just let me lie here a little longer.”

That’s what Ella said, but her gaze kept flicking over to Otto from the corner of her eye.

Just like Letia, she maintained an air of distance and wariness toward everyone.

This sight, instead, made Otto recall the past—back when Letia hadn’t yet left the White Church to join Dawnblade.

Back then, she was just like this.

“Though I did tell you to relax a little and not be so on guard… I didn’t mean you should relax to this extent.”

Otto sighed, unable to hide his helplessness.

“All right, all right…”

But compared to Letia, who was a complete and utter layabout, Ella was still a bit better.

At least Otto could get this girl to move.

If it were Letia, she’d probably just roll over again and continue playing dead.

“Is there something you need, Bishop?”

“Well, cleaning the room, for starters…”

“The room is clean. There’s only dust, no garbage, so why clean?”

…You win.

Otto finally couldn’t hold back and pressed his fingers to his throbbing temple.

It was back—the feeling of dealing with a rebellious daughter.

“Make me a cup of tea, I need you to handle something for me.”

Ella simply made a pot of black tea and handed it to Otto.

He took a sip and praised her.

“It’s not quite up to Letia’s standards, but not too far off either.”

As he sipped his tea, Otto scrutinized Ella.

Facing this Automaton, who was nearly indistinguishable from a real person, he examined her from every angle for a long while.

“Hey?”

It wasn’t until the Automaton picked up a communication crystal and was about to call for help that he hastily withdrew his gaze.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Otto said helplessly.

“I was just marveling at Red’s craftsmanship.”

A few simple, exquisitely crafted arrays had turned the Automaton into something almost indistinguishable from a real human.

This was no longer just magic—it was practically Divine Authority—Creation.

Otto had even tried copying the arrays from the Automaton onto another one, but… they wouldn’t activate.

No matter how many times he tried, it was always the same.

Was it because of the core array?

Otto looked at Ella before him and, in the end, shook his head.

With only a single experimental sample, it wasn’t wise to risk dismantling or damaging it.

“You were definitely thinking something suspicious just now.”

“That’s not true.”

Even as Ella exposed him, Otto’s expression barely changed.

“Ella, go fetch the Sacred Artifact from the White Church for me.”

Though called a Sacred Artifact, it was in fact a Magic Artifact that Otto intended to use; the White Church had simply given it a more pleasant name.

“All right.”

Ella nodded and left the room.

Otto, meanwhile, elegantly crossed his legs and gazed out the window, pondering his next move.

He already had the head of the Pureblood Malicefiend in his hands.

This demon, possessed of Divinity, was itself a crucial material for the study of Divinity.

Otto’s knuckles tapped silently on the cold surface of his desk as his thoughts churned with unerring logic.

The time had come—the next step of the plan… it was time to proceed.

The words “Becoming God” weighed heavier than mountains, the path as daunting as scaling the heavens.

Otto hadn’t neglected to try the so-called “orthodox” path.

He’d once been a member of the Hero Party, which had been the focus of so many hopes and expectations, cutting through countless monsters, ultimately reaching the legendary threshold of Level Forty.

At that time, everyone—including himself—believed that clearing the Fifth Layer was just a matter of time.

But… the horrors below Level Forty taught the Hero Party a brutal lesson.

Compared to the areas above Level Forty, Level Forty itself… perhaps that was where the true game began.

There, time was no longer a flowing river, but shattered, reversed, frozen, and leaping fragments, like a scrambled kaleidoscope.

Space was twisted, folded, and torn, like crumpled wastepaper or the madness-filled Void Construct.

Chaos was the only law, the bizarre an eternal backdrop, and Berserk Curse a fate inescapable for any who entered.

Every step they took wasn’t an ascent to godhood, but a descent into the depths of the Infernal Abyss.

That so-called Hero Party of his hadn’t even truly set foot on the land of the forty-first layer.

In that place, so grotesque it shattered all understanding, the party members melted away like wax thrown into a furnace, dissolving in incomprehensible terror—screaming, vanishing, annihilated…

The Hero, along with all his companions, died miserable deaths, leaving not even bones behind.

Of the entire party… only he survived.

Recalling this, Otto drew a Watch from his pocket.

The hands were completely still, as if forever stopped at a certain moment, and on the back was a cunningly engraved solo Teleportation Array.

But this array had long since become useless, as if it had already been used.

In the center of the array, a girl’s name was clearly carved—Yelena.

Otto’s face showed little emotion.

He simply put the Watch away, then returned his thoughts to the matter of his plan.

Once, his pursuit of the unattainable godhood had been mixed with the frenzy of exploration and a desire for validation.

But now, his purpose was nothing like before.