Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 48: This… Is the End?!

In the original story, after the protagonist completed the ritual, he received a response from an ancient god. While the god couldn’t directly use divine power to extricate him from his predicament, it provided him with cryptic information sufficient to turn the tide.  

That moment was the only instance in the entire story where a god demonstrated the ability to transcend time. Yet, even then, its influence on reality was negligible—achieved only because of the god’s immense power and status. A weaker deity would have been incapable of such a feat.  

After all, normal prayers are directed to gods existing in the present timeline.  

Lynn had always believed that entities from the past or future couldn’t directly interfere with the present. Otherwise, the world's timeline would descend into chaos.  

But he had overlooked one crucial detail:  

Inability to interfere with the timeline ≠ Inability to influence an individual.  

After experiencing what felt like an interstellar voyage, Lynn was finally able to piece together what had happened.  

This wasn’t a case of the future influencing the past. Rather, it was he who had been pulled into the future.  

Wherever he was now, it clearly wasn’t Augusta Manor. He might not even be in the same timeline anymore.  

His soul and consciousness had been drawn to another temporal node, likely by the Witch of the End’s power.  

Could this be ten thousand years later? Lynn speculated.  

Only someone like Yveste, having fully ascended as the Witch of the End, could achieve such a miracle—something beyond the capability of any other god. She—no, She—had brought a soul from the past to this distant future!  

If this were true, his goal was already halfway complete. All that remained was to meet Yveste in her new form and pledge allegiance to her.  

According to the original story, at this time, the Witch of the End was at her peak, relentlessly hunting the protagonist and his companions. It was a prime opportunity to become her follower while her strength was unmatched and the enemy was weak.  

Heart pounding, Lynn took in his surroundings—a vast, unfamiliar hall that resembled a palace.  

Towering stone pillars adorned with intricate reliefs flanked a central pathway that extended deep into the interior. The view ahead was shrouded in shadow.  

Without hesitation, Lynn moved forward.  

After about five minutes, the scene changed.  

Given the palace-like setting, it would’ve been fitting to encounter rows of heavily armored guards and a grand throne.  

But what Lynn saw was far from ordinary.  

The first thing to catch his eye was a colossal statue. Ancient and imposing, it depicted a humanoid figure cloaked in robes that seemed to reflect an endless starry sky. The statue exuded a profound sense of mystery and depth.  

A sacred aura permeated the space, and faint hymns and praises echoed in Lynn’s ears.  

This was the statue of the Master of a Billion Stars, the god once worshipped by the Divine Order Church.  

The thought surfaced instinctively in Lynn’s mind.  

But the palace housed more than just this one statue.  

Lynn looked upward.  

The enormous hall was divided into multiple levels, each featuring several towering statues, each distinct in form and expression.  

Some depicted gentle, compassionate women; others, wise old men in white robes; still others, proud warriors riding chariots. There were grotesque demons with twisted visages, ancient dragons, and titanic beings with vertical pupils exuding primal power.  

Each statue seemed almost alive, their gazes converging on Lynn with overwhelming intensity. The sheer pressure was enough to make him feel the urge to bow in reverence.  

“This… is a Pantheon,” Lynn thought, his heart pounding in awe.  

The chamber held thirty to forty statues in total, each extending crystalline chains of flawless brilliance from their palms. The chains glimmered faintly, descending from all directions to converge at a single point.  

Following the chains with his eyes, Lynn froze.  

In such a grand pantheon, nothing would have surprised him.  

But this…  

This shouldn’t have been here.  

At the chains’ convergence sat a woman, bound by the countless chains of order.  

She wore a tattered black gown, her long white hair cascading like a waterfall to her waist. Barefoot, her pale skin exuded an icy dignity, and her demeanor was cold and regal.  

Despite her beauty, the chains had locked her at nearly every joint—neck, wrists, ankles, and waist—depriving her of freedom. She sat silently on the edge of the central platform’s steps, quietly flipping through a book in her hands.  

When Lynn saw her face, his breath caught in his throat.  

Though she wore no luxurious attire, though her once raven-black hair had turned snow-white, though the curse mark on her face had vanished…  

Lynn immediately recognized her.  

This was Evester Roland Alexini, the Third Princess of the Saint Roland Empire.  

Realizing this, Lynn was deeply confused.  

What was happening?  

According to his memory, the Witch of the End—at her peak—should have ruled supreme in this era.  

Why, then, was she bound like a prisoner here?  

Moreover, the proud, domineering presence of the Third Princess, with her haughty smiles and sharp eyes, was gone.  

In its place was an air of deathly silence and cold indifference, as if all vitality had been drained from her.  

Lynn instinctively approached.  

Hearing his footsteps, the woman finally looked up from her book, meeting his gaze.  

For a moment, neither spoke. Lynn wanted to say something, but no words came.  

Finally, she broke the silence.  

“I heard your call,” she said, her cold voice devoid of emotion. “So I brought you here.”  

Lynn forced a smile.  

“Your Highness, it’s been a long time… May I ask, where is this place?”  

The Witch of the End—no, Yveste—closed her book with a soft thud.  

“As you said in your prayer,” she replied softly, “this is the end.”  

She paused, her tone turning introspective.  

“It has been a long time since anyone addressed me that way…”  

But Lynn barely registered her latter words.  

Her earlier statement echoed in his mind:  

This is the end.  

Whose end? Whose conclusion?  

The answer was obvious: it was hers.  

Lynn’s scalp tingled as a chilling realization struck him.  

He had been wrong—completely and utterly wrong.  

This wasn’t ten thousand years into the future, during her peak.  

It was far beyond that—so far into the future that even he couldn’t fathom it.  

This was the distant aftermath of the story, where the Witch of the End met her tragic demise.  

Here, Evester Roland Alexini, after losing everything, had been sealed by the gods in this pantheon, awaiting the fall of the Sword of Damocles to bring her final end.  

The horror didn’t stop there.  

Seeing him frozen in place, Yveste asked, her tone calm, “What is your name?”  

Clenching his fists, Lynn replied, “Lynn… Lynn Bartleon.”  

He studied her expression, hoping for any sign of recognition.  

But there was none.  

“Never heard of it,” she said flatly.  

Lynn’s heart skipped a beat.  

Desperate, he opened his system to confirm her identity.  

The information was there: her name, her S-level ranking. This was unquestionably the Third Princess he knew.  

But then why…  

His gaze fell on the final entry in the system display, and his mind reeled.  

[Plot Deviation: 0.00%]  

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