Chapter 572 The Last Two Stomachs and the Sins of the World
Beelzebub lay weak in Fitran's lap, her breath barely audible in the stillness of the night. Her body was protected by glyphs created by Fitran, but the magic flowing within her was nearly depleted, signaling the end of the arduous struggle she had endured. In the dim light of the night, shadows danced around them, as if sensing the vibrations of Beelzebub's soul, flowing like a river of time carrying the burdens and unspoken hopes.
Elyra lay limp in Fitran's embrace, her soft sobs filling the surrounding air. Yet, from within that weeping, a whisper emerged:
"There are still two wombs left... and within them, it is not a creature, but you yourself who is hiding."
Eighth Womb: "Utero-Inversum: Womb of Self-Hatred"
With grace seemingly enveloped in pain, Beelzebub slowly raised her hand and opened the last glyph that locked her wounded womb. As if shedding layers of the past, the atmosphere around them grew heavier, each second filled with the remaining hope and unspoken sorrow.
This womb released a red mist—not a creature, but the mist captivated with its charm, swirling slowly like a cloud of regret that had settled in a shattered soul. In this elegy, the echoes of everything Beelzebub had ever told herself in hatred reverberated:
"I do not deserve to be human." "This child will die because of me." "Fitran only pities me." "I am the emptiness trying to pretend to be a woman."
The mist enveloped Beelzebub's body slowly, creating a tense aura that surrounded everything, before ultimately trying to consume her from within with unfathomable strength. Beelzebub's inner voices echoed in the void, filling every corner of her spirit with waves of deep anxiety, creating a contradiction between the desire to survive and the despair that threatened. Her hands began to fade, her skin grew pale, and in an instant, she began to vanish into the terrifying darkness.
"Beelzebub!" Fitran called out in panic, his voice filled with concern. He placed Elyra in a warm magical embrace before rushing over, each step shadowed by fear and pulsing hope. However, Beelzebub could only respond with a faint smile, as if bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders.