Chapter 1534: Resonance Between the Reckless and the Overbearing
The City of a Thousand Towers would open its gates to every invited visitor—but only if they were capable of perceiving the door’s very existence.
This was the rule set by the Lord of Night for the city, a part of the authority wielded by both “Shadow” and “Nightfall.” Just as a devotee of the Holy Light must embody its principles in word and deed to safely approach its searing radiance, so too must any visitor to this realm—so close to the divine Shadow Kingdom—meet the demands of the shadow’s path to successfully unlock the city ruled by eternal night.
The closer one draws to a deity, the more palpable and unyielding these “symbolic acts” and “specific orders” become.
The good news was that those invited visitors possessed enough wisdom and luck to find the gate hidden within light and shadow. The bad news was that they also had more courage and imagination than necessary—the way they opened the door was nothing short of shocking.
This revelation shook the city’s steward, Prince Nash, to his core—quite literally.
A cold night breeze swept over the dim palace as Nash stood on the terrace, his senses sharpening in the chill. He gazed upward at the “sky,” where the darkened earth hung inverted above him. Scattered clusters of lights marked the temporary camps of mortal visitors who had come to this place.
It was the hour of nightfall, when the influence of shadow magic on this land reached its peak.
Since the Lady of Night had awakened, the City of a Thousand Towers—once a tangible city in the mortal realm—had returned to a kind of “mythic state.” By day, it vanished without a trace; by night, it appeared as a shadowy reflection hovering over the ruins of the old city. It was the last lingering trace of the Violet Dream’s fading, and the mysterious gateway left behind by the Shadow Kingdom in the mortal world.
“…I need to consult the Lord of Night,” Nash said after a moment’s hesitation, nodding slightly to Benadette, the magical intelligence hovering beside him. “The visitors’ actions were unexpected and don’t fully align with the city’s usual order. Now that the city has returned to its mythic state, stepping into the City of a Thousand Towers is like placing half a foot into the divine realm. Even for their own safety, the way they opened the gate must be precise.”
Benadette nodded. “Understood. I’ll keep watching the surface with the Eyes of Nightfall.”
As she spoke, the magical construct stepped back, her consciousness linking to arcane mechanisms hidden within the dim palace. She began monitoring the mortals’ next moves through surveillance spells. Meanwhile, Prince Nash waved his hand, and the inverted earth above him dissolved like mist, replaced by a deep starry sky. He fixed his gaze toward the darkest part of the heavens and opened himself to a respectful communion.
The shift between starry sky and earth did not affect the city’s state itself. This was part of the city’s—and the Lady of Night’s—true nature: the boundary between substance and shadow, reality and reflection, was fluid and malleable before the Lord of Night. The power of shadow was, in essence, the power of light and shadow combined. The City of a Thousand Towers could be a projection of the earth, the earth a projection of the sky, and the sky a projection of the Lady of Night herself.
Amid the endless stars, a cool yet gentle gaze seemed to fall upon him. Nash felt his soul tremble slightly as he relayed the visitors’ actions to his mistress. After a brief pause, a response came, and the sensation of being watched faded. The starry sky vanished, the inverted earth reappeared above the dim palace, and Benadette’s voice broke the silence: “You communicated quickly. What did the Lord of Night say…? Your expression looks strange.”
Nash’s face was more than strange—he stared blankly at Benadette, his tone wavering. “I told her what the visitors did…”
Benadette frowned, scrutinizing him. “Yes, and?”
“She said: ‘Impressive.’”
Benadette blinked. “…?”
Nash shrugged helplessly. “Don’t look at me like that—I don’t know why either.”
“Have you noticed… ever since awakening, the Lady’s been acting a little… odd?” Benadette finally broke the silence on the terrace. “I know it sounds rude, but you remember last time she even entertained a group of lost mortals near the throne. And recently… well, maybe I’m wrong. After all, I was created after she fell asleep, and all I know is from the Great Library’s records. But you should know how she used to be…”
“Perhaps the long slumber changed the Lord of Night, or maybe she’s chosen to try new things after such an extended existence,” Nash mused, shaking his head. “Even years ago, her personality was unique among the gods. Though back then, things might not have been so… severe. Never mind. We shouldn’t discuss such forbidden matters. Since she’s accepted the visitors’ actions, it means their behavior won’t provoke the city’s backlash. Open the gates, Benadette.”
…
“I feel like something in that city is watching us,” Maggie said suddenly from the camp’s edge, now in human form. She frowned, staring up at the inverted city in the sky. “Since a while ago, there’s been this faint, lingering sense of being observed.”
Modir, nearby, was busy reinforcing the summoned Mage’s Eyes with shields, resistances, and blessings. He glanced up casually. “That’s normal. A city that big floating in the sky—especially the legendary City of a Thousand Towers—there’s bound to be something ‘alive’ inside. After the noise we made knocking, it’d be stranger if nothing was watching.”
“Then why haven’t they done anything?” Diana frowned. “You said this was an invitation from the Lady of Night. How did it turn into this? We fired anti-aircraft shots at the sky, and the city just stayed silent…”
“How should I know? Maybe our shots just happened to kill whoever was inside,” Modir said, blowing on his beard. “But that’s the Lady’s watchtower. A few small-caliber anti-aircraft guns should be like knocking loudly on the door to that city. Enough. The Mage’s Eyes are ready. I’ll send them up to see what’s going on.”
The old mage waved his hand, and several heavily armored Mage’s Eyes floated away from the group, heading toward the inverted city. Normally, these eyes were about the size of a human fist, but Modir’s enhancements had made each as large as half a car, layered with multiple protective spells. Maggie muttered, “Every time I see them, I wonder how they even manage to fly.”
Modir waved her off. “Of course they fly. Magic shields don’t weigh anything—it just looks thick.”
Before he could finish, a sudden humming sound from the sky interrupted him. He looked up in surprise to see the city, which had remained silent until now, suddenly change. Above the tallest building at the city’s center, a strong dark purple beam of light formed. In the next moment, the beam stretched like a bridge, spanning the great distance and descending directly to the surface—landing right between the camps of the Cecilian and Typhonian forces.
The sudden development startled everyone. Even the seasoned Modir yanked out several strands of his beard in shock. He stared at the dark purple light, which was several meters wide and connected earth and sky like a bridge. The glow shimmered gently in the night, as if containing countless stars, and a soothing power radiated from it, filling all who looked upon it with a profound sense of peace.
“This is…” Diana’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected the city’s silence to be broken so dramatically. “Is this a response to what we just did?”
“Could this be the ‘gate’ to the city?” Maggie speculated, cautiously approaching the beam’s landing point. “Maybe because we ‘recklessly’ followed King Gawain’s orders, we passed the Lady’s test?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Modir said, following her carefully. “This appeared too suddenly, and there’s no markings. We should throw something through first to test it…”
Maggie hesitated. “Maybe not. The king only said we could be ‘a little’ reckless. Going beyond that might backfire.”
“I’m not saying to throw bombs in. I mean sending a summoned creature, like a mana servant, to scout.”
As they whispered their plans, the light suddenly shifted again. Near its base, tiny lines of light appeared, quickly coalescing into an arrow pointing diagonally upward into the sky.
Modir and Maggie exchanged silent looks.
Then, lines of text began to form beside the arrow:
“Entrance to the City of a Thousand Towers;
Step into the light to enter;
The city has opened its gates to visitors;
You have passed the test;
Step forward and stand firm;
Stop guessing—this is really the gate;
No more explosives, please!”
The three figures standing by the light exchanged awkward glances as a silent tension filled the night. After a moment, Modir broke the silence with a dry chuckle. “Well, at least that’s a direct response.”
Maggie looked at the old mage, then at the silent Diana. “So… should we go in and see?”
Modir smiled. “Of course. That’s exactly why we’re here.”
…
Gawain rubbed his brow, setting aside the final report from the Divine Council that had arrived over the past two days.
The lockdown of the Cathedral District was still in effect, but after more than forty-eight hours of continuous monitoring and preliminary assessments by senior advisors, the alert level had been downgraded from “Reality Contamination” to “Divine Disturbance.” So far, aside from some astonishing “traces,” no new anomalies had appeared in any of the cathedrals, nor had there been any reports of clergy members succumbing to corruption.
At this rate, the lockdown in the Cathedral District was expected to be lifted soon.
After all, in a world where gods truly exist, “church activities” are an indispensable part of the social fabric. Even the Theocratic Council and the royal family cannot indefinitely lock down all the churches in the capital without a valid reason—especially now that the Council has roughly figured out the cause of the visions. Since the possibility of the gods running amok has been ruled out, lifting the lockdown must be put on the agenda.
Of course, whether it’s Gawain or the Theocratic Council, everyone knows the gods are in trouble. The end of the church lockdown only means this issue poses no threat to the mortal realm. But as for the gods themselves… this matter is far from over.
The “Saint Princess” Veronica stood quietly beside Gawain’s desk. Noticing he had finished reading the report, she spoke softly, “What do you make of the Arbitration Tribunal’s investigation?”
“High-ranking clerics across various churches are experiencing similar phenomena,” Gawain said, rubbing his temples. The details from the report swirled in his mind, spawning new leads and conclusions. “When they invoke high-level divine magic, they feel a profound sense of dissonance—specifically, a loss of the ‘gaze of the deity,’ an inability to sense the ‘warmth of divine will.’ The higher the rank, the closer the cleric is to the god, the more pronounced the feedback. A few chosen ones and even one god’s chosen have explicitly stated that their gods feel like empty shells, with only hollow, mechanical responses emanating from their thrones.”
“Yes,” Veronica nodded gently, raising her hand to scatter a faint glow that enveloped Gawain, instantly easing much of his mental fatigue. “And throughout this, all divine magic across the churches continues to function normally. In fact, in a few tests, the efficiency of the magic even improved slightly—though the increase was so subtle that only instruments could barely detect it. Still, this ‘enhancement’ is real.”
Gawain fell silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on Veronica—or more precisely, on the faintly shimmering holy light around her. After a few seconds of thought, he spoke quietly, “It’s almost like the God of Light.”
“Exactly. It’s just like the God of Light,” Veronica agreed softly. “This hollow, mechanical feeling is strange and somewhat frightening to ‘ordinary’ clerics. But for those who have prayed to the God of Light, it’s a familiar sensation. Although the fervent followers of the Light have long insisted that this hollow, mechanical response is proof of the God’s justice and purity—and have imagined all sorts of ‘divine will’ behind it—we now know without a doubt that this feeling is praying to a mindless answering machine.”
“Yes, a mindless answering machine,” Gawain exhaled softly. “So this is the most likely explanation: all the gods have become mindless answering machines. The divine thrones of every godly realm now hold only divinity itself. And this must be the work of Lady Night.”
“Lady Night…” Even Veronica’s voice wavered at this conclusion. “What exactly does that ancient god want? And how did she manage all this?”
Gawain thought carefully, inwardly wondering if that ancient god had just gone around knocking out a dozen or so brain-dead patients with a single blow…
(I’ve self-published some concept art books and am now holding a giveaway—details are in the reader’s circle. PS: The art books are limited and only available through the giveaway, not for sale. PS2: If you don’t win in the reader’s circle, don’t worry—there will be separate giveaways on the official account and comic platforms.)
(End of chapter)