Only God
Chapter 471 - 411: Does Light Need the Backing of Darkness? (Additional Release)

Chapter 471: Chapter 411: Does Light Need the Backing of Darkness? (Additional Release)

Above the Cloud Sea.

Schiller stood atop the clouds, his brows furrowed and head bowed, his gaze as if surveying the earth, focused on a particular corner.

It had been some time since God had told him that he, too, would be assigned a mission.

Perhaps... twenty years already?

Even for beings like angels who had no sense of time, not to mention twenty years, even two hundred years really amounted to nothing. But for the proud Schiller, twenty years... was unbearably long.

Every day, he woke up with expectation, opening his eyes and then gazing toward the distant Divine Throne, waiting for the Divine call. And every night, he would close his eyes in dejection, for that day, too, he had not received his mission.

Schiller could not help but feel restless and increasingly impatient as time passed.

He would not confess this mood to God on the throne, because seeking answers after only twenty years seemed too hasty, barely fit for a great responsibility.

Schiller’s own pride would not allow him to inquire of God after merely twenty years.

Yet, despite this, Schiller still was anxious and agitated about the continued absence of his mission.

"Perhaps... God actually assigned the mission long ago... and I just haven’t noticed?"

Standing alone atop the clouds, Schiller murmured softly,

"Just like Xilan, Dertulian, and others, God might have already assigned a mission, just never stated it explicitly."

Saying this, a faint joy kindled in the eyes of the Great Angel, but after a moment, he sighed:

"If only that were true."

The implication of his words was, what if it were not?

Schiller stood like a statue, his gaze drifting uncertainly, his thoughts somewhat muddled.

He had no idea how much time passed when suddenly, around Schiller standing in the Cloud Sea, clouds from all sides fiercely gathered toward him, and before he could react, the clouds under his feet soared upward at unimaginable speed, tossing him high into the air.

Schiller was startled, thrown into the air, his limbs flailing in disorder, frantically flapping his wings. After a moment, he clumsily regained his composure and then looked down at the suddenly changing layers of clouds.

Amidst the clouds, dark mist emerged.

"Mira!"

Schiller shouted angrily.

"Sorry, sorry, Schiller."

From within the clouds, Mira’s figure suddenly darted out, holding a dark and round life form tightly, trying not to let it escape,

"It’s my fault, I wasn’t watching it closely."

Mira chuckled as she apologized, not truly without remorse, but with little of it.

Schiller returned to the Cloud Sea with an expression of sullen annoyance and said irritably:

"What exactly are you doing? Shouldn’t you be in Hell with your beloved?"

Mira touched her cheek, somewhat embarrassed,

"Beloved... you really make it sound embarrassing."

Schiller didn’t care if she was embarrassed or not, again demanding:

"What exactly are you doing?"

Mira adjusted the Primordial Embryo in her hands,

"I am educating it, needed to come to Heaven briefly, this should be called... um... prenatal training? Anyway, I’m letting it see more of the wonderful things.

After all, this is the mission God assigned to me."

Mission...

Such a familiar and straightforward word.

Yet it struck right at the proud heart of Schiller.

His gaze grew dark,

"Yes, you were also given a mission by God, just like Solamus."

Mira nodded heavily, echoing,

"Mmm, this is definitely no easy job, the tasks God assigns us are always fraught with peril."

Schiller closed his mouth, saying no more.

Something occurred to Mira, and she suddenly asked,

"Who is your Trialist this time in the Angel’s trial?"

The Angel trial, ever since the Angel Leader Solamus led the seven Great Angels to create it, had a history of more than a thousand years. The most accomplished Trialist belonged to Prophet Noen of the "Second Prophet Book."

During that trial, Schiller’s Trialist, the highly anticipated Baird, ultimately failed to pass the Angel’s trial and died in a remote small town, with his soul dispatched to the underworld of Death God Nakbet.

Each time Schiller reflected on this matter, he would think that perhaps that was the root of his envy towards Solamus.

Hearing Mira’s question, Schiller opened his mouth and said,

"Do you want to know? The person is called Po Han, a merman."

Mira scratched her head—it was a remarkably ordinary name.

"Is there anything special about him?"

Schiller shook his head,

"Nothing, he is an ordinary person.

So, I hold no hope for his passing the trial."

Upon hearing this, Mira voiced words of consolation,

"There’s hope, Schiller. Look, even Solamus didn’t have much hope for Prophet Noen at first, but in the end, he met God, and his deeds were compiled into the ’Second Prophet Book.’ His disciple, Xilan, was likewise entrusted with a mission and is revered by people."

Those consoling words, unintentional from the speaker yet meaningful to the listener, led Schiller to lower his head, lost in thought.

He vividly remembered that after Noen became a prophet, Solamus was given a new mission to descend to earth as a new prophet, proclaiming underfoot the Holy Realm, blowing the horn of arrival.

Po Han and Noen were similar, not favored by other Angels, even not by himself...

The story started so similarly.

So... would he, himself, embark on the same path?

A glint sparked in Schiller’s eyes.

Perhaps... this was God’s arrangement, His way of enlightening through subtle hints.

Schiller suddenly felt much better, finding this much-favored girl more pleasing to the eye,

"Thank you, Mira."

He spoke softly.

Mira nodded, cradling the Primordial Embryo, looking down below the Cloud Sea, and said,

"Well, I should return to Hell now, Anos doesn’t want me to be gone too long."

Hell...

No angel had ever gone to Hell.

The word tugged at Schiller’s thoughts, leading him inadvertently to ponder.

It was the gathering place of sinners... the locus of darkness in the eyes of mortals, how could the always pure and good Angels approach it?

The Angels hardly ever set foot even in the Mortal World.

Thinking this, Schiller turned around, hoping to ask Mira, who had been to Hell, something, but she had already disappeared.

Thus, Schiller lowered his head, muttering to himself,

"Why must there be a Hell?

Could it be...

that light needs darkness for contrast?"

Only with Hell as the backdrop does the forever radiant Heaven truly seem precious, doesn’t it?