Chapter 1535: Visitors from the Shadow Realm

Although he still couldn’t directly peer into the true state inside the divine realms, there were now plenty of indirect clues allowing Gawain to speculate on what had happened to the gods. High-ranking believers from various sects could no longer sense the “watchful gaze” of the deities. The process of invoking advanced divine magic had become a mechanical “call and response”—both hallmark signs of “pure divinity.”

In this regard, Veronica, as the Saintess of the Church of the Holy Light and someone who had personally visited the Holy Light’s divine realm through ideological projection, held the highest authority. After all, the God of the Holy Light was currently in exactly this state.

And all of this had occurred after the Lady of Night “visited” the gods. Coupled with the earlier clues found in the cathedral, it was no wonder Gawain suspected that the Lady of Night had effectively beaten the gods into a vegetative state…

He knew this guess sounded far-fetched, but he couldn’t help voicing it: “Could it be… that the Lady of Night destroyed the gods’ humanity? Or somehow robbed them of their ability to think?”

“I once suspected the same,” Veronica frowned slightly, shaking her head. “But there’s a flaw in that theory. Why would the Lady of Night want to destroy the gods’ humanity? Or put it another way, if she had the power and chose to act, why not destroy their divinity instead? During the divine catastrophe, it was the mechanized divinity that truly threatened mortals. The gods’ humanity should have been our ally… It just doesn’t add up.

“Besides, as we’ve discussed before, if the Lady of Night truly wanted to help this cycle of civilization, she wouldn’t simply ‘destroy’ anything outright.”

Gawain furrowed his brow, staring at Veronica. “So you mean…”

“I don’t think the gods’ humanity has been destroyed,” Veronica said after a moment’s thought, offering her own theory. “I’m more inclined to believe that the gods’ humanity still exists, but the Lady of Night somehow granted that humanity a degree of autonomy—allowing it to actively choose to avoid the prayers of the mortal world.”

Gawain immediately grasped her meaning, and the conclusion surprised him: “So the Lady of Night’s ‘attack’ freed the gods’ humanity to some extent? And those freed aspects are now deliberately cutting off contact with the mortal realm?”

“Perhaps it’s even more than that,” Veronica said calmly, locking eyes with him. “The Divine Council has been systematically ‘unbinding’ the gods. If mortals can do that, then the Lady of Night—a powerful ancient god—must have had a far grander purpose than simply giving the gods’ humanity a little freedom.”

Countless speculations flooded Gawain’s mind, but at the end of all his conjectures, one question stood out: “If what we’re guessing is true… then where has the gods’ ‘humanity’ gone?”

If the Lady of Night had truly separated the gods’ humanity from their divinity—like a forceful splitting of body and soul—then these free human halves should be doing something. Yet not a single god had tried to reach out to the mortal world. This was completely unlike Gawain’s impression of the gods’ humanity!

He thought back to Myrmina, who had run wild in the Shadow Realm after gaining freedom; to Amon, who had turned the Rebellious Courtyard into a vegetable garden within days of standing up again; and even to Tea Egg, who had completely let loose and casually announced, “I’m two years old this year.” Any of these examples proved one thing: these gods, pent up for thousands of years, were anything but docile. Mortals had crafted majestic exteriors for them, but beneath those shells were hearts on the verge of madness—perfectly fitting the concept of “humanity.” So the question remained—

Now that the Lady of Night had freed the gods’ humanity, would these unchained gods willingly remain imprisoned in their divine realms? Surely not. Yet none had even stepped forward to take a breath of fresh air. There were only two explanations: either they had other missions requiring them to remain in their realms, or the Lady of Night had overdone it, and the victims hadn’t even woken up yet…

Gawain’s mind wandered into strange territory again, but this time his thoughts were abruptly cut off. A sudden, urgent buzzing came from the edge of his desk. Following the sound, he saw the runes on the surface of the arcane network terminal flickering rapidly. Above the terminal, a special symbol projection appeared.

It was the high-level communication mark of the Divine Council. When this symbol lit up, it meant something directly involving the gods was happening.

Gawain immediately signaled Veronica to close the study door and activated the room’s isolation barrier. After confirming all protective and monitoring systems were functioning normally, he reached out and connected the communication.

The holographic projection above the terminal flickered a few times before stabilizing into a clear image: the towering stag Amon appeared.

Gawain hadn’t expected it to be him contacting first. Surprised, he asked, “What’s going on? This seems like your first time using this channel…”

“There’s an emergency,” Amon leaned forward, a faint glow shimmering beside him, suggesting other figures were present off-screen. “You’d better come here yourself—three special ‘guests’ want to see you.”

Gawain was taken aback, but the next moment, a realization dawned on him, and his expression turned serious.

“I’ll come take a look,” he said, nodding to Veronica as he rose from his chair. Then, waving his hand at the air, he called out, “Amber.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a shadowy rift appeared in the air. A small figure struggled to crawl out, grumbling, “Here, here, coming along… wait—hey, someone help me out…”

Veronica gave Amber a deadpan look, reached in, pulled her free, and handed her to Gawain. He deftly tucked her under his arm and strode toward the study door.

…

Deep within the Shadow Realm, in the heart of the Rebellious Courtyard, the massive golden oak tree stood silently as always in the dim twilight. Its gentle glow softly illuminated the entire courtyard, lighting up the lush plants and the large arcane machines scattered among the nurseries.

Amon had just finished communicating with Cecil City and now lay quietly beside the golden oak. Before him stood three figures, much smaller in stature—three elegant, beautiful women with golden hair like ripe wheat and radiant faces. Their upper bodies were graceful and feminine, but their lower halves were those of elk. They were the three goddesses of harvest and earth: Gaia, Mother Earth; Eve, Goddess of Harvest; and Flora, Goddess of Spring.

These three goddesses, who should have been residing in the Harvest Court and receiving mortal worship from their thrones, now stood here before Amon, among the thriving nurseries. They looked somewhat uneasy, even nervous. Amon’s gaze was troubled as he hesitated, then finally spoke: “Um, maybe you should wipe the blood off your faces? It’s kind of scary…”

“Thank you for your concern, revered Lord of Nature,” Gaia, the eldest, replied softly, shaking her head. Her voice was low and gentle. “These wounds are the result of the Shadow God’s power. Only time can heal them.”

Amon shuddered at her words. “Fine, fine, don’t wipe it. But please, don’t call me ‘Lord of Nature’ anymore. I get a little nervous hearing that title these days…”

Eve, standing beside Gaia, blinked but quickly recovered. “Alright then, may we call you Lord Amon? After all, the three of us separated from your domain in ancient times. Though we don’t have clear memories of that era, by tradition, you should be considered our elder brother…”

Before Eve finished, Flora, who had been silent until now, couldn’t help but interject: “Actually, you could also be seen as a parent—more precisely, a mother.”

Amon felt his veins twitch, but he couldn’t lose his temper in front of these humble, friendly juniors. He also knew these three had just slipped out for some fresh air and still carried old habits in their words and actions. So he patiently said, “You don’t need to worry about any of that. I don’t care either. The inheritance of divine office and the splitting of domains are irrelevant to us now. You need to learn to see things from this new perspective, or you’ll easily reconnect with your divinity—which is more dangerous for you than for me, since your ‘unbinding’ wasn’t done through normal means.”

The three goddesses exchanged glances. Gaia’s expression grew especially solemn as she bowed deeply with a seriousness that Amon found almost exaggerated. “Thank you very much for your warning!”

“You don’t have to be so formal,” Amon said awkwardly. “It’s just some experience I’m sharing.”

“This experience is very important,” Eve said earnestly, looking at the former Lord of Nature. “We have no experience being mortal, and the Lady hasn’t told us anything about it. So your advice means a lot.”

“Did the Lady of Night tell you nothing?” Amon raised an eyebrow. “After she ‘treated’ you, did she just leave?”

Flora thought for a moment and shook her head. But before she could say more, a low hum suddenly rose from the large arcane devices scattered among the nurseries. The unexpected noise interrupted the goddesses’ movements. Flora’s face turned alert. “What’s that?”

“Don’t worry. It’s just the anti-divinity barrier generators switching to high power mode,” Amon said calmly. “The courtyard’s exit to the outside world is opening. Looks like the people you want to see have arrived.”

As if to confirm Amon’s words, a shimmering protective barrier at the end of the courtyard’s path suddenly opened a gap. Two figures—one tall, one short—appeared in the sight of the gods who had skipped their duties. Amon glanced over and casually said to his guests, “That’s Gawain over there. He’s the one who organized the Divine Council. And that little short one beside him… hmm? What’s going on with you all?”

Amon’s words trailed off as he noticed the three goddesses staring strangely at Gawain approaching. Flora even instinctively took a half-step back. Then Eve whispered nervously, “But… wasn’t the treatment supposed to be finished?”

Amon was left speechless: “…?”

Forget about Amaund’s puzzled expression—Amber, who was walking right beside High King, was the one truly startled. From a distance, she spotted three figures standing beneath the golden oak and immediately recognized them as the three goddesses worshiped in the Temple of Plenty. She knew right away that something major was about to happen. But what really shook her was when all three goddesses simultaneously fixed their gazes on her. Amber couldn’t read any hidden meaning in their eyes—only a chilling sense of dread. Instinctively, she slipped behind High King and whispered in a shaky voice, “What’s wrong with those three?”

High King’s heart stirred the moment he saw the three figures. Though he had guessed what Amaund meant by the “three guests” before arriving, seeing them in person still stirred his emotions. Now, witnessing the goddesses’ unusual reaction, countless clues snapped together in his mind. He glanced back at Amber, who was hiding behind him, and quietly said, “Relax. I think… this mess is still on Lady Night’s head.”

“That’s not me!” Amber’s voice cracked, almost on the verge of tears. “You know what I’m capable of. If things go south, you’ve got to cover for me—I’m your guard, after all…”

Listening to her rambling, High King didn’t even know where to start pointing out the flaws in her words. He just braced himself and led her toward the golden oak. Throughout the approach, the goddesses’ gazes never wavered. Since Amber was hidden behind him, their eyes fell squarely on High King. Though their looks held no hostility or overt power, the mere weight of their divine presence was enough to make anyone uneasy. Fortunately, High King had faced gods head-on before; this pressure was manageable.

He nodded in greeting to Amaund, then turned his attention to the three goddesses. They were relatively petite—at least compared to Amaund, who, even compressed, was still the size of a house. Yet to High King, these three female deities still stood nearly twice his height—true giants. Despite the size difference, when High King met their eyes with calm steadiness, the three goddesses instantly sensed an unspoken force.

It was a gaze that transcended rank and divine glory—a look that regarded all beings as equals, capable of standing toe-to-toe with a maddened dragon, confronting the Overlords, and facing the oldest, most insane creations of this world without fear or favor. Under this serene, unwavering gaze, even towering gods instinctively bowed their heads.

Only then did Gaia realize her earlier stare had been rather rude. “Apologies. We were… just surprised. May I ask who this is?”

By now, she had sensed from his aura that the small figure was nothing more than an ordinary mortal. Though her tension and fear hadn’t fully faded, she knew she might have been mistaken.

“This is Amber, my guard,” High King said calmly.

(End of chapter)