Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time-Chapter 571 Closed Womb Supper Beelzebub Throws Out His Stomachs

The Philistines no longer hide their curse. The birth of Elyra is a sign that opens the banquet of concepts, marking the resurrection of all entities that were ever failed to be born, written, or remembered—lining up from all directions. They do not merely walk; they crawl from hidden minor dimensions, from the corridors between magic, and from the edges of human dreams that are unreachable.

Fitran knows this battle cannot be won with a sword. It is not about strength, but about the consequences of love.

Fitran carries Elyra, who begins to cry, but her cries are not out of fear—rather, she realizes, even before she can speak, that the world rejects her.

And at that moment—Beelzebub stands. Her body begins to tremble, as if under the control of an invisible force. Her skin, once bright white, now radiates a dark red light, like blood boiling within her body. Every muscle contracts with supernatural tension, reminiscent of the wild magic pushing against her own will.

The surroundings begin to tremble, with a cold wind whispering through the branches of withered trees, and darkness envelops the area, making every breath feel heavy. The sky above them turns a deep crimson, as if sensing it, absorbing the tension of the ritual that is about to begin, creating a tense and terrifying atmosphere, as if pressed by the weight of the fate being undertaken.

Beelzebub raises her hand, and as she opens her first Void belly, a sound that shakes the earth is heard, as if the earth trembles in deep fear. 'This is the sacrifice,' she thinks, while witnessing the blinding light enveloping the open Void belly. Death and birth overlap in the gap; in every rotation, shadows of lost entities emerge, dancing in an undefined cacophony, as if singing a cosmic lament.

Each opened belly reveals more of the sacrifices that must be borne; the aroma of blood and magic intertwines, presenting a horrific image of lost love. Withered flowers bloom again as Beelzebub continues this ritual, connecting with the power of Elyra that radiates new life—a hope amidst the thick darkness, a ray that may bring resurrection to all that has been forgotten.

Her body is still bloodied. The birth stitches have not yet dried. But her gaze has returned: Clumps of darkness begin to tremble around Beelzebub, enveloping the space with a threatening aura. Every movement seems to trigger a resonance, and though her face is filled with wounds, her eyes shine with unwavering determination.

"Let me consume them." Her voice echoes around her, as if the awakening of a goddess, piercing the darkness of the night, impressing the resolve and strength of the decision she has made.

Beelzebub opens one by one the Void bellies. From every scratch on her skin, the flowing blood gives a surge of power, creating a shimmering circle around her feet, while the wind around spins wildly as if listening to the call of her soul.

In her long history as a demon, Beelzebub has Nine Conceptual Bellies. Each belly is not an organ, but a segment of existence capable of devouring reality based on a specific theme. That night, she left none behind. Dark clouds roamed the sky, marking her terrifying ritual, as if the sky itself witnessed the battle between life and death.

First Belly: "Larnex Abandonium" – Magic: Devoural of All That Was Forsaken. With a terrifying growl, this belly begins to open, releasing a bubbling hunger towards all creatures that were once born without will—they who were abandoned by their mothers, names that were never completed, prayers that were canceled. The tumultuous sounds and cries resonate in the wind, creating a symphony of sorrow that touches the soul.

The wailing creatures are sucked into a black spiral with empty baby faces. Two rainbow dewdrops appear in the dark night, as if the universe mourns for the lost souls.

Beelzebub bleeds from her eyes and navel. Every drop of blood that falls sparkles, mixing with the night, adding to the power of her ritual. But she smiles, hinting at a deep satisfaction. "They will not find you, Elyra," she cries, her voice full of desire and sacrifice, embracing the darkness for her safety.

Second Belly: "Ventricia Nihilem" – Magic: Maw of Nullifying Grace. With graceful movements, this belly consumes everything that masquerades as love but is painful. Entities like Lilacien and silver angels with promises of sweet dreams melt into putrid light and are drawn into the second vortex, each retaining a trace of hope that slowly fades. As if the world trembles as this belly opens, shaking the air with a deep aura of mourning.

Beelzebub coughs blood—like expelling all the pain and suffering that has been held back, her coughing becomes a marker of sacrifice. "I am your mother. Not them." The voice contains a challenging power, affirming how she will protect Elyra at all costs.

Third Belly: "Cysta Verboctis" – Magic: Grinder of Incomplete Names. As this belly begins to split, the darkness deepens. A soft chant comes from the open belly gap, drawing creatures like Almakhul and Babelian witches who try to impose false names on Elyra. They are crushed by this belly, as if reality is forced back into its original form—a true establishment of identity. The long tongue of the third navel licks every doctrinal glyph and crushes it until unreadable, erasing the unwanted traces from the world.

Creatures like Almakhul and Babelian witches who try to impose false names on Elyra are destroyed by this belly. The long tongue of the third navel licks every doctrinal glyph and crushes it until unreadable. As the process unfolds, the wind blowing seems to signal sorrow, the leaves wither, and the starlight dims. "You will only be called by the name born of love."

Fourth Belly: "Intestinal Reliquary" – Magic: Repository of Miscarried Dreams.

This belly consumes creatures like Nehotep and the stillborn princes. A rumble is heard as the earth trembles, revealing the restlessness of creatures trapped in the cycle of life and death. They, who refuse to be born but do not want to die, are sucked into a giant dome-shaped womb belly that never completes its pregnancy. Meanwhile, Beelzebub increases in pain, as if every muscle is being pulled hard by an unbearable burden. Fresh blood flows from her ears, creating a small pool around her. Her body convulses, her will to live struggles against the darkness that envelops her; countless sacrifices that should be meaningful and reciprocated merge into the chilling silence, only broken by unheard screams.

Beelzebub falls to her knees. Blood pours from her ears. Her body convulses. This moment, between awareness and helplessness, becomes her sacrifice of love for Elyra and every name that had to be forgotten to create something new and beautiful.

Fifth Belly: "Holo-Carnassum" – Magic: Digestor of False Histories.

Entities that come bearing historical records of how Elyra "should" grow—"should" become this and that—are sucked and chewed into the debris of narratives that never materialized. Dark shadows roll like a storm, creating a terrifying atmosphere around Beelzebub, as if the world feels the suffering to come.

Beelzebub stands again, her body trembling with tension, and the blood flowing from her ears adds darkness to her pale face. "You will not become someone else's story," her voice vibrates the air, full of hope and anger.

Beelzebub's body begins to shrivel, a sign of the dangerous ritual. Sharp thorns emerge from her skin, wounding and splitting, as if the world wants to witness this sincere sacrifice. In the piercing pain, she remains standing, waiting with hope in the threatening darkness.

Behind her, Fitran still carries Elyra, establishing a protective circle of Lux Firmissima so that the light of the baby is not affected by the chaos. Invisible shadow armies gather around, astonished by Beelzebub's courage and amazed by the love of a mother who will not back down. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

"Beel... enough. Your body..." "I AM A MOTHER. AND THEY MUST NOT SEE HER." Her voice trembles, fierce as thunder in the dark sky, affirming the power of love that is unwrapped in words.

Sixth Belly: "Venter Redemptia" – Magic: Furnace of Forgiven Sins.

All entities that come with guilt, who try to atone for sins by stealing someone else's child, are slowly consumed by the fire of this belly. Beelzebub falls, trembling. Her knees bleed, as if the earth feels the pain and sacrifice she experiences. Her belly is now fully open—not in a literal sense, but in the symbolic magic. As if her womb shines and spins, spreading a powerful aura, transforming the atmosphere around her into one similar to time melting between spaces.

Fitran and Elyra gaze at her, hope and fear intertwined in their looks.

"Mother... saves you with a body that the world rejects," Fitran murmurs to Elyra. And at that moment, as if nature holds its breath, waiting for her mother's fate to be certain.

And the last remaining entity—The Last Fragment of Anathema Partus—slides toward Elyra, the rustling sound of the wind creating a terrifying symphony, embracing every element as if united in that moment, as if nature and the universe lay hope and fear in one breath.

Seventh Belly: "Nidus Lux Consumpta" – Magic: Final Womb of Inverted Light, a digestive capsule for the false light that comes from the Remains of Anathema, a sterile light that rejects birth.

Beelzebub closes her eyes, and the belly absorbs the entire existence of Anathema, leaving an absolute silence that submerges the whole world in a moment of reflection. Beelzebub's body collapses, her pale skin appearing like a lost shadow beneath the moonlight, her breath nearly gone. Around her, the wind stops blowing, the canopy of trees above trembles their branches as if mourning. Fitran runs and embraces her. Elyra cries—but not a sad cry. That cry is healing. Every drop of tear that moistens Beelzebub brings warmth like morning dew. The voice of nature responds, the spices of the sky begin to emit a gentle aroma, as if celebrating a mother's sacrifice. Beelzebub opens her eyes, faintly. "How many... how many bellies are left?"

Fitran answers, "Two."