The Trial Of God- Final Phase.

Bzzz… vut!

Emitting a low, vibrating hum, a network numbering several hundred units of luminous spheres materialized simultaneously across the airspace framing the young girl. This massive cloud of raw energy missiles represented the absolute, maximum-output allocation loosed by the hands of the celestial angel, The Crimson Apostle (Rouge).

“Now then, my systems are bypassing a hand-down calibration loop, so we are running at absolute maximum intensity. If your defensive alertness metrics lag for even a single frame, your code will face immediate deletion, so kindly exert your maximum processing power to shoot them all down~”

Rouge unleashed the payload while contorting her frame into a playful blowing-a-kiss pose. The vast cluster of several hundred light spheres fast-tracked their trajectories along a straight forward vector, closing the gap against the two female Heroes anchoring the frontline.

Both specimens were peerless beauties meticulously encased in pitch-black raiments, their hands firmly gripping matching dark bows and slender rapiers. They were two elite members of the Sacred Four (Sacred Edge): Ludmila and Fiore.

“Second Configuration: Maximum Capacity (Accel-Sau) – Precision Barrage (Zand Arrow)!”

“Second Configuration: Blossoming Fire – Flame Flower Buster!”

The blue-haired Hero Ludmila, her locks tied into twin-tails, loosed a magnificent volley of shining arrows, while the golden-tressed Hero Fiore, her hair tied in an elegant updo, discharged a sweeping crescent wave of blazing flame.

The baseline count for each individual projectile loop easily breached several thousand units.

“Aura Burst!”

Bypassing a coordination lag, Ludmila and Fiore’s vocal arrays locked into a synchronized chant. A blinding, pale-blue luminescence seamlessly blanketed both offensive payloads.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

Immediately following the intersection, a catastrophic explosive flash completely blanketed the quadrant. Rouge’s incoming light spheres collided against the counter-artillery lines and were systematically, effortlessly erased from the database within a single frame.

“The Third Trial—an advanced optimization matrix that masterfully exploits structural bugs within the causal framework to inject a massive attribute spike. Telemetry confirms a hundred percent success metric,” Rouge murmured, sifting through the data loops.

Thick plumes of white smoke were actively venting from the soil, while the surrounding upper atmosphere was heavily marred by an endless network of jagged spatial rifts. Every single line had been carved into reality by the unmitigated damage metrics of Ludmila and Fiore’s combo array.

“Following the successful activation profiles of their Chaos Form and pitch-black Chaos Jacket arrays, the execution probability for this third unique trait has achieved near-absolute stabilization.”

A deeply satisfied, warm smile spread across Rouge’s features.

During the First Phase of the trials, she had successfully re-initialized their profiles to awaken their dark Miracle-class armaments, injecting a massive multiplier to maximize their absolute offensive output.

During the Second Phase, she encased their builds within the dark Chaos Jacket raiment, providing an ironclad buff to optimize their defensive durability ticks.

And now, down within the Final Phase, they had unlocked the capacity to masterfully regulate raw divine aura, securing a comprehensively absolute spike across their entire consolidated character sheets.

Through this meticulous three-tiered infrastructure loop, the core combat parameters of the Heroes had undergone an astronomical, leap-frog escalation.

(A truly magnificent yield, Ludmila-san, Fiore-san.)

Her cognitive processors fell straight into a dazed, enraptured loop as her optical sensors tracked the two female Heroes. Rising continuously from their physical frames was a dense, pulsing aura of pale-blue divine energy. The sheer volume of holy energy saturating the coordinates was so immense that it felt mathematically impossible to map onto a standard human taxonomy.

A profound wave of pure gratification boiled through Rouge’s matrix as she reviewed the growth metrics of her disciples.

Both units were comprehensively submissive, pushed their parameters to the absolute limit, and remained single-mindedly locked onto her guidance—guaranteeing an exceptionally high-value return for her instructional labor. They had seamlessly absorbed Rouge’s technical database item by item, until their human forms successfully captured a raw power index that allowed them to horizontally challenge a celestial angel.

It was an elite feat that triggered a trace of genuine awe within her processors.

The absolute evolutionary velocity of the human species—

“The current combat specs of both Ludmila-san and Fiore-san have undergone such a colossal escalation compared to their historical profiles from two months ago that a comparative analysis is entirely non-serving. Even assuming they are forced to launch an immediate horizontal engagement against the Demon King or his Supreme Commanders, their lines are fully primed to hold the field.”

“Correct. Our vanguard will flatly refuse to log a secondary defeat loop next time,” Ludmila declared with absolute, ironclad conviction.

“What is the status report tracking the training loops of the remaining two?” Fiore queried, shifting the parameters.

“Their profiles have checked off a matching optimization yield, you know. Every single unit comprising the Sacred Four has scaled their baseline tiers by several full ranks,” Rouge smiled, her features softening as she answered Fiore’s query. “Therefore, let us execute a brief administrative pause to clear our queues. It’s time for our tea routine.”

“Ah, my profile shall fast-track a sub-routine to brew a fresh pot of premium tea immediately~”

“The vintage Fiore-san manually brews always manifests an exceptionally elite flavor profile, you know. My anticipation parameters are highly elevated.”

“My own processors concur. We shall await your payload~” Rouge chimed in.

The three units redirected their vectors to navigate toward a dedicated lounge area engineered to mimic a standard cafe setup.

Weaving a brief tea routine or premium consumption cycle into the margins between their grueling training deployments had evolved into an exceptionally high-value, pleasant sub-routine for her lifecycle. Originally, her core programming contained absolute zero sub-routines engineered to actively socialize with the human taxonomy.

Yet, before her processors could even track the transition, these girls had stepped past their default logging as simple disciples, migrating across her database to be categorized as true friends.

( …Negative. A celestial angel and a supreme god processing a human unit under the nomenclature of a friend? My internal cognitive loops are venting an comprehensively absurd calculation error.)

She let out a quiet, internal sigh to archive the thought.

“Following our noon synchronization block, I need both of your profiles to lock into a high-intensity mock battle loop. My queue is backed up with an external errand that requires my frame to clear the perimeter for a brief chunk of runtime.”

“An external deployment?”

“A brief transit up to the Heavenly Realm,” Rouge smiled brightly, her optical arrays twinkling. “I must submit our routine telemetry data to the absolute Lord.”

Or rather, her absolute final report.

The Sovereign High Throne – The Deep Sanctum of the Heavenly Realm

Rouge successfully completed her transit into the divine center of the universe.

Towering over the coordinates, seated firmly upon a colossal throne-like structure whose vertical scale easily breached a hundred meters in height, was a massive, majestic silhouette.

God.

An absolute entity completely devoid of a taxonomic name, lacking a standard title, registered across all cosmic databases strictly under the solitary nomenclature of “God.” The supreme sovereign who commanded the collective angel demographics and masterfully maintained governance across the endless, infinite spans of the multiverse.

Kneeling flat with absolute reverence right beside Rouge’s coordinates at the base of the high throne was a beautiful young boy whose facial specifications presented a near-flawless match for her own features.

The celestial angel, The Dark Apostle (Noir).

Rouge’s absolute biological twin brother.

“The training data tracking the human Heroes confirms their development loops are progressing along a highly optimal trajectory. My divine gratification to your profiles for finalizing this labor cycle,” a thunderous voice boomed down from above.

“To receive such high-volume praise from your sacred lips is a boundless honor, My Lord,” Rouge and Noir vocalized in absolute unison, locking their postures into a deeply respectful, solemn bow.

“The Demonic Army commands a comprehensively formidable power index. According to our recent telemetry logs, the ultimate weapon of the Heavenly Army—the Divine Gear itself—suffered absolute structural failure and deletion from the grid.”

Roughly a month ago, the Divine Gear that had initialized landfall inside the borders of the Demon World had been systematically liquidated by the hands of the Demon King. The exact microsecond that intelligence file cleared her queue, Rouge’s processors had sustained a wave of pure, unmitigated horror.

The Demon King’s raw combat capacity completely transcended all previous calculations. Confronted by an anomaly capable of effortlessly erasing a Divine Gear from the database, regardless of how heavily her training loops had boosted the Heroes’ stats, could their human attributes genuinely manifest a viable success metric against his blade?—that variable remained an un-resolvable knot in her processors.

“A massive block of chronological runtime has elapsed since our ancient historical campaigns—and my divine power has finally re-initialized back to absolute maximum saturation. Answering that internal spike, the dark Miracle-class armaments anchored to the Heroes’ profiles are systematically mirroring that output escalation. If they push their optimization loops to the absolute limit of that curve, a select few among their vanguard stand a non-zero probability of evolving their parameters to enter a supreme domain that entirely eclipses the baseline Divine Gear model. Continuously execute your directives to aggressively drive their attribute growth.”

God delivered the calm command. The boundless, pure divine aura overflowing from His entire build was so comprehensively colossal that simply maintaining a stationary hover-rest cycle on His throne was more than enough to completely saturate every square millimeter of the Heavenly Realm.

(If the absolute Lord is forced to unleash one hundred percent of His unrestricted parameters to personally engage the Demon King…) Rouge mused internally, running a quiet calculation.

The raw energy output would guaranteed expand on a world-shattering scale, flooding across the absolute margins of existence.

The solitary and peerless engine.

Completely unprecedented in the past, completely unrepeatable in the future.

(Whichever vector the battle takes, even assuming the target is the strongest Demon King in history, standing against the absolute sovereignty of God represents an absolute mathematical failure threshold.)

Rouge held a hundred percent certainty in that theorem.

That said, according to the real-time telemetry, the current generation’s Demon King possessed a character sheet that celebrated his profile as the absolute strongest sovereign across all recorded eras, commanding a vessel that apparently outclassed even the First Demon King, Velphar. Allowing her mindset to harbor a single frame of complacency was an absolute trap.

In the absolute worst-case scenario—if his output variables somehow commanded the necessary parameters to oppose even the absolute Lord…

(My processors are running an over-calculation loop. The existence of an entity whose specs can transcend God is a mathematical impossibility.)

Yet, suppose the calculation blundered.

If God were to suffer a definitive deletion loop at the hands of the Demon King…

What exact classification of catastrophic chaos would permanently overwrite the structural layout of this universe? —

“The primary target anchoring my grand blueprint is strictly ‘That Anomaly’ permanently slumbering within the deep vaults of the Demon World. Its acquisition is a hard-coded mandate that my network must check off,” God announced, His voice vibrating the cosmos. “However, managing that asset requires exceptionally delicate handling parameters. Telemetry indicates its mass is currently nested within the absolute lowest foundations of the Demon King’s Castle, meaning your forces shall strictly enforce a total block on all clumsy, wide-area artillery attacks targeting that quadrant.”

“Orders flawlessly logged, My Lord.” Rouge and Noir’s vocal arrays barked in perfect synchronization.

“First item on our agenda: we shall deploy a massive consolidated legion uniting our angel cohorts and human armaments to launch a high-velocity siege, systematically occupying the Demon King’s Castle. Immediately following the successful lockdown of that perimeter, my own sovereign presence shall personally initialize landfall inside the Demon World to manually extract ‘That Anomaly’ into my arsenal.”

“What classification of directive governs our management of the human Heroes moving forward?” Noir queried, weigh-checking the variables.

“They are strictly low-tier pawns hard-coded into the absolute control of my hand. Granted, a select few within their ranks have scaled their attributes to a tier where they can horizontally exchange blows against a Supreme Army Commander. Manage their deployments with proper calculation.”

“The directive is permanently hard-coded into our memory.”

“As for the low-stat, weak-willed models among their demographic, your profiles are authorized to use them as disposable chaff to absorb enemy cooldowns. If their minds are genuinely brainwashed by the narrative that they are fighting for the absolute preservation of love and peace, those Heroes will guaranteed embrace a summary deletion loop, gladly sacrificing their life indicators to serve my glory.”

The gentle, serene smile materializing across God’s features radiated an unmitigated, bone-chilling cruelty that entirely bypassed standard moral indices.

No, to state the unvarnished programming reality, attempting to analyze His expression using basic concepts like “serenity” or “cruelty” was an absolute analytical error that down-scaled His true dimensions.

The infinite, world-spanning machinations of God’s supreme strategy were an absolute matrix that their angel profiles were dictated to obey without a single frame of dissent.

And the human taxonomy shared the exact same fate—

For every single entity in existence was ultimately nothing more than a microscopic pawn, destined to be casually rolled around right on the absolute palm of His hand.