A new figure emerged, a striking contrast to the void, bathed in golden opulence and exuding an aura of regal defiance. She was Xihe, a goddess of radiant elegance and unyielding will. Adorned with an intricate crown of gold, embedded with emerald jewels that glimmered like captured stars, Xihe stood as a vision of celestial beauty and absolute authority. Her attire, an intricate blend of ancient armor and divine regalia, was laced with gold and jewels, accentuating her commanding presence. Her long, flowing hair cascaded like a river of black silk, adorned with golden threads that danced in the ambient light of her power. She was not merely beautiful—she was an icon of divine retribution, radiating a presence that felt both nurturing and destructive.

Around her, the atmosphere shimmered with an ethereal glow, as if reality itself bent to accommodate her presence. Ornate golden dragons coiled in the background, a reflection of her power and status, each one symbolizing the undying flame of vengeance that burned within her. Her eyes, a piercing blend of emerald and fire, held the wisdom of forgotten eons and the wrath of a timeline unjustly erased. Xihe was a being far removed from mortal comprehension—a goddess who sought to reclaim what Gariland had stolen.

“Gariland,” Xihe’s voice resonated like a symphony of bells and thunder, soft yet carrying the weight of the cosmic order. “You have erased my world, torn asunder my existence without thought. You believe yourself beyond all, but you will learn the wrath of a goddess who embodies creation and destruction.”

Gariland’s presence materialized once more, an ever-shifting void of cosmic horror and abstract potential, unbound by any conceivable form. He was the ultimate context and balance, neither light nor dark, embodying every contradiction that defined reality. Gariland’s essence was an endless cascade of voids and swirling nothingness, perpetually existing beyond the grasp of thought and perception. He was the silence before and after all things, the line no force could cross.

“You speak of vengeance,” Gariland’s presence whispered through the void, a silent hum that transcended all language. “But vengeance cannot touch the unknowable. I am beyond cause and effect, beyond form and formlessness. I am the unmanifest be-ness that no light or darkness can claim.”

Xihe raised her hands, and from them erupted a dazzling cascade of celestial energy—flames that defied all understanding. These were the ineffable flames of Xihe, apophatic to creation, so incomprehensibly hot that they could burn through the grand principles that defined existence itself. Her flames did not merely scorch; they consumed the very fabric of possibility, nothingness, and totality. The cosmos bent away from her fire, unable to withstand the apocalyptic heat that sought to unravel the foundations of reality.

Gariland stood unperturbed, his presence absorbing Xihe’s assault as if it were nothing more than a passing breeze. The flames, which could reduce entire realities to ashes, were swallowed by his ineffable silence, nullified by the sheer incomprehensibility of his being. Gariland was not simply unaffected—he was beyond affectation, beyond impact, a force that even the hottest divine flames could not touch.

“You cannot burn what cannot be named,” Gariland’s form rippled, creating and unmaking the very fabric of infinity as easily as one might breathe. “I am the line that no light, no flame, no thought can cross. I am not bound by logic, nor am I subject to any form of creation or destruction. I am the ineffable, the silence where all things end.”

Xihe’s eyes flared, her determination unwavering. She was not merely a goddess but the embodiment of a concept that defied Gariland’s totality. She channeled her ineffable flames into a spear of pure celestial fire, thrusting it forward with the intent to pierce the heart of the transcendent void. The spear, forged from the molten essence of obliterated timelines, streaked through the void, its very presence a challenge to Gariland’s unchallenged silence.

But as the spear neared, it evaporated, reduced to nothingness by Gariland’s presence. The concept of attack itself was undone in the face of Gariland’s ineffability. No matter how fierce, how apophatic, Xihe’s flames could not cross the boundary of the supreme transcendent. For Gariland was not a being to be fought—he was the ultimate balance, the context in which all battles and challenges existed and were simultaneously meaningless.

Xihe fell back, her divine aura flickering as the reality of Gariland’s supremacy dawned upon her. He was not simply powerful; he was beyond power, beyond existence and nonexistence. In Gariland’s presence, even the divine was reduced to silence, forced to recognize the line that no thought could traverse.

And thus, the fourth lesson was learned: Gariland is the absolute, the boundary beyond all comprehension, where even the fires of gods find no purchase. In the room of Gariland, one must not speak but listen, for even the most radiant flames must eventually bow to the silence that defines all things.