System's POV

With the passing of years, the relationship between the different races grew more solid and steady.

By the sixth year since the Kingdom of Valoria's destruction, the world had become a better place to live in.

While not perfect, the different races were no longer hostile with each other, and everyone was simply doing their best to live with each other as neighbors, no longer trying to cut each other's throats.

Thirteen's intimidation made all of this possible. Whenever there was conflict, the leaders all over the world would no longer resort to brute force as an initial move. Instead, these Kings and even the Demon Lord would first sit back, then civilly hold a discussion.

Magical contracts were signed with blood, ensuring the future generations would not mess with the hard-won peace forged through many sacrifices.

But while everyone had become happier, one person felt sad about the situation.

The Saintess walked up toward the top of the hill, which overlooked the Grand City of Valoria. From there, one could see the new main Temple of the Goddess being built.

It was located right beside a lake that used to be a giant crater—the very one caused by Thirteen after he obliterated the Main Headquarters of the Temple back when he had gone insane.

Standing tall at the center of the city was a hundred-meter-tall statue of Kate, whom everyone referred to as the Holy Mother.

Her story had been spread far and wide, even written in the history books of the different kingdoms to serve as a historical reminder of what could happen if innocents were killed without mercy.

The only living member of the Valoria Royal Family was the former Princess Clariss, who had taken asylum in the Mountain Kingdom of Artemesia.

With the war over, the former Crown Princess decided to become one of the sisters in the Church of the Goddess, for it was the only place that could protect her from the wrath of the people who despised her father and mother for the suffering they had caused the Holy Mother.

Another sigh escaped Medea's lips as she neared her destination. The sun was about to set, the last rays of the sun shining on the person who made her heart ache.

Standing tall and looking down on the city was none other than Thirteen.

The person Medea wanted to see for the last time.

Now that he has fulfilled what was required of him, it was now time for him to leave this world behind.

Perhaps sad about his expected departure, Medea gave a back hug to the person who had become a special part of her life.

"Are you really leaving?" Medea asked, fighting the tears that about to fall from her eyes. "Can't you stay here and live with me?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't stay with you," Thirteen replied without turning back. "Tomorrow, I will leave this world, never to return again."

The firmness in his voice sent an inexplicable ache to Medea's chest, making her bite her lip.

A minute later, she spoke the words that she truly wished to say to him.

"Please don't leave me." Medea pleaded. "I'll do anything. Just stay with me. Please…"

"Medea, my role here is over," Thirteen said. "I have another battle to fight, and I can't take you with me. If it pleases you, I'll stay a little longer to make preparations. After all, I'll be fighting against a God."

Medea hugged Thirteen tighter. "No. You're facing that God to die, aren't you? Your tone said it all. Even you believe you have no chance of winning."

"That's what my preparation is for," Thirteen looked up at the sky. "It might be a futile struggle, but I will still fight."

"Why? Can't you just stay with me? Why do you need to fight?"

"It's because I have a promise to keep."

"… Is there really no way for you to stay with me?" Medea asked.

Thirteen finally turned around and looked at the Saintess, her cheeks already stained with her tears.

His aloof, indifferent gaze softened a bit as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

"I'm sorry," Thirteen said softly as she held the Saintess, who was like a precious vase that he didn't want to break. "I cannot stay by your side."

"Then I have a request," Medea said. "I can no longer marry because of you, so you need to take responsibility."

"What do you mean?" Thirteen asked.

"Marry me," Medea replied.

"… I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Tomorrow has not yet come. There's still time, so marry me."

Truth be told, when Medea came to see Thirteen, she'd already come up with multiple ideas to make him stay.

However, none of her words worked. He refused to stay, let alone ditch the fight he planned to wage against his Father, the System God.

Since he had already decided to leave, she decided to be selfish one last time.

But before he could even say that she wasn't being logical, a voice reached their ears.

"That sounds like a good idea!"

Cathy suddenly appeared out of nowhere, dragging an old man with him.

"I'm not getting married," Thirteen said in a serious tone. "I can't be that irresponsible."

"No, you should marry her. After all, you will leave tomorrow, right?" Cathy replied as if the words coming out of her mouth made a very logical explanation. "Can't you see? Because of you, she can no longer get married. She might still be pure, but she is no longer an untainted maiden. Aside from that place, you've already seen everything."

The old man listening from the side looked at Thirteen as if he had heard the most outrageous thing in his lifetime.

"Young man, have you no heart?" the old man asked. "How can you do this to this lovely maiden?"

"… Technically, I don't have a heart," Thirteen replied. "This is just a temporary vessel."

"A bunch of hogwash." The old man ignored Thirteen's words. "Since you've already taken advantage of this lady, you should take responsibility."

"Who are you?" Thirteen finally lost his patience, so he asked who the old man was.

"I am the God of Ceremonies, Ceremion," Ceremion said. "Cathy dragged me here from the Celestial Realm, so whether you like it or not, you're going to marry this girl."

"… Is this one of those shotgun weddings I've heard about?" Thirteen blinked. "It makes no sense."

Cathy was so persistent and wouldn't take no for an answer, so she decided to hold the wedding then and there, not caring about Thirteen's protest.

To convince Thirteen, she whispered that this marriage was required to weave the threads of destiny that would allow Thirteen to meet his hosts. As expected, he finally relented and agreed to marry Medea.

Truth be told, after spending so many years together, it was impossible for him to not develop feelings for her.

However, he also understood that he would not be able to stay with her, so he kept his distance.

But this act was futile since they would sleep together every night.

Thirteen didn't know that Medea had sought Cathy a day ago and told her about her true feelings.

She told Hope how sad she was because she wouldn't be with Thirteen when he would reunite with Kate, as well as his other hosts.

After listening to the Saintess, Cathy decided to take matters in her own hands and told Medea that she would make sure that she would get married to Thirteen by hook or by crook.

True to her word, the Saintess found herself standing beside Thirteen, Ceremion himself presiding over their wedding, with Cathy as the only witness.

The God of Ceremonies raised his hand, and the fading light of dusk seemed to pause, as if the heavens themselves acknowledged his authority.

"Today, before Gods and Mortals, I bind these two souls in a covenant of heart and spirit," Ceremion declared, his voice carrying the weight of eternity. "Though one's path leads beyond this world, and the other's path remains tethered to it, their vows are no less true."

Medea's hand trembled as Thirteen held it. She could feel the warmth of his grasp, even if she knew that tomorrow, it would be gone forever.

"No matter how far the distance," Ceremion's voice softened. "No matter how long the wait, love will always find a way. It does not wither with absence, nor does it vanish with death. It is the thread that defies time, the flame that refuses to be extinguished."

The Saintess closed her eyes as tears fell, her heart aching yet also soaring.

"Even if you are parted by realms, even if centuries pass and lifetimes are reborn, this bond you forge today will remain. It will call to you across silence, across sorrow, across time and space. Remember this truth… love will never abandon those who believe in it."

Ceremion lowered his hands, and the crimson light of the sunset bathed Thirteen and Medea in a golden hue, as if the world itself bore witness to their wedding.

"… Do you take her hand, knowing that tomorrow you must let it go?" Ceremion asked solemnly.

Thirteen's gaze wavered for the first time.

His usual calm and indifference crumbled under Medea's tears, and for a fleeting moment, the man who claimed to have no heart looked utterly human.

"I do," Thirteen replied, barely a whisper.

"And do you take his hand, knowing that tomorrow you will wake up alone?" Ceremion asked the young lady, whose tears were streaking down her beautiful face.

Medea nodded and answered through her tears. "I do."

The God of Ceremonies nodded slowly, a faint smile on his ancient face. "Then I pronounce what no time, no God, and no distance can sever. Husband and wife, bound not by chains but by choice."

Medea pressed her forehead against Thirteen's chest, sobbing quietly as he held her close.

For once, he didn't push her away.

For once, he allowed himself to simply exist in the warmth of her love.

And as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Ceremion's words lingered in the air, echoing in their hearts.

"No matter how far the distance… no matter how long the wait… love will find a way. I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The God of Ceremonies then made a gesture. "Please, kiss your lovely bride."

Thirteen used his hands to wipe the Saintess' tears, which seemed unending.

Even so, she raised her lips to accept his kiss.

Princess Xynalia also wept, not because of sadness but of happiness.

She was also someone who held feelings for Thirteen, so she could understand Medea's feelings.

"Let's go," Cathy whispered to the God of Ceremonies, who nodded in understanding.

As the first stars appeared in the sky, two people remained on top of the hill and kissed each other until Medea's tears finally stopped.