Chapter 1571: “The Double Act”
Early spring, Year 5 of Cecil. As the constellation of Frostsky slowly descended from its zenith in the night sky, the constellation of Flowfire gradually rose above the horizon. The biting cold of the northern kingdom’s long winter was finally beginning to recede, and a palpable sense of eager anticipation for the coming warmth and blossoms was stirring between city streets and rural fields alike—the Festival of Renewal was drawing near. For most nations across this continent, it was the most important celebration of the year.
For the citizens of Cecil City, however, this year’s Festival of Renewal carried an even deeper significance.
It was the first Renewal Festival since the decisive Battle of Talash, the first grand festival since the Alliance’s Victory Day celebrations, and the day King Galvin Cecil returned to his loyal imperial capital after completing his royal tour. To mark this extraordinary occasion, the Imperial family and the Theocratic Council had jointly authorized a grand religious ceremony to be held in the city’s largest square—the Pioneer Plaza—a “Blessing of Abundance and Sacrificial Rite.”
Since the Theocratic Council’s sweeping reforms had weakened the authority of the various churches nationwide, such large-scale sacrificial ceremonies had become rare.
For this day, half the city was festooned with lanterns and decorations. Preparations in Pioneer Plaza had begun days ago, transforming the space into a sacred venue aligned with the doctrines of the Three Goddesses of Abundance. Sprigs of fragrant herbs and colorful minerals symbolizing Gaia the Earth Mother, Eve the Harvest Goddess, and Flora the Spring Maiden were scattered throughout the plaza. Last year’s carefully preserved sheaves of wheat and straw stalks were tied to the street lamps, stretching all the way from the plaza to the church district.
From the early hours, people dressed in their finest garments set out from their homes, walking along the main thoroughfare from the church district to the grand square. They arrived at the altar area just before the morning sun bathed the plaza in light. Leading the procession, the priests offered prayers to the statues in the dawn sun and poured dew collected the previous day into a clay jar before the altar. As the last drop fell, the ritual of blessing the gods officially commenced.
Then the horns sounded, accompanied by the joyful ringing of bells and drums. Barefoot ascetics wearing flower crowns approached the raised platform, treading deliberately over a path of thorns laid before it. The blood from their feet was seen as the Spring Maiden’s will to melt the winter’s snow. The Abundance Maiden, clad in a simple gown and holding a stalk of wheat, ascended the platform to preside over the sacrificial rite. As a devout representative of the faithful, she would listen directly to the gods’ will during the ceremony.
As all this unfolded, King Galvin stood atop the tallest tower at the far end of Pioneer Plaza, quietly surveying the bustling crowd and the solemn, intricate rites taking place at the altar below.
Behind him, in a cramped chamber, stood a massive machine occupying nearly half the room. Its hexagonal prism frame housed neatly arranged crystal matrices and rune plates that emitted a faint glow. A low hum resonated from deep within the device, echoing softly throughout the space.
Beyond this room, throughout the tower, various protective devices were installed, guarded by fully armed and resolute Inquisitor monks.
These layers of defense were not for the king’s personal safety—a legendary figure like him required no such protection. Instead, their true purpose was to maintain an unprecedentedly powerful anti-divinity barrier, ensuring that the Theocratic Council’s researchers inside could safely record the ceremony’s parameters, maintain communication with the Rebellious Court, and do so without alerting the semi-divine presences of the Three Goddesses of Abundance.
Galvin’s gaze passed through the window to the altar, where he saw the “Abundance Maiden” placing the wheat stalk before the three statues—each a half-human, half-deer figure embodying Gaia, Eve, and Flora, gazing benevolently upon the mortal world. As the maiden intoned solemn prayers, a shimmering light appeared on the statues’ surfaces. The once-withered wheat suddenly revived, lush and green.
Seeing the statues glow and the wheat flourish, the maiden seemed to relax slightly, nodding with a smile. This “Miracle of the Statues” signified that the connection between the gods and the mortal realm had been established. The sacrificial rite about to unfold was recognized by the divine as a “righteous act.”
A familiar voice broke the silence beside Galvin. Amber’s tone was laced with mild exasperation: “Looks like a real hassle… They started preparing days ago, and now that it’s finally underway, there’s all these convoluted ‘symbolic rituals’—walking the streets before the sun’s up, ascetics stepping barefoot on thorns, placing wheat before the statues… Isn’t it all just a lot of fuss?”
Galvin chuckled. “Complex religious ceremonies serve to highlight the gods’ divinity, creating a clear boundary between the divine and mortals. The elaborate rules, strictly enforced and gradually hardened into ironclad laws, also reinforce the church’s authority. In earlier stages of society, when most people lacked education and logical reasoning, such seemingly odd but mandatory ‘rules’ were essential to keep large events orderly. They inspire reverence and ensure the sacred rituals don’t spiral out of control.”
He paused, shaking his head. “Of course, as society evolves, many religious rites undergo some degree of ‘distortion.’ The church must rigorously uphold the core doctrines to assert its orthodoxy, but human factors inevitably introduce a lot of ‘personal touches.’ As long as the basic tenets of the gods aren’t violated, completing the ritual is what counts.”
“Exactly. I bet Gaia and the others only really get involved in the final part when the statues glow,” Amber whispered conspiratorially, peering down at the plaza. “All that fuss with the ascetics is probably just a cover for collecting donations for soup and medicine halfway through the ceremony…”
Galvin was speechless.
Though he wanted to remind this shadowy troublemaker that what was happening was a serious, large-scale experiment directly impacting the Twilight of the Gods plan, a small voice inside told him—she wasn’t entirely wrong.
Feeling the urge to vent but unable to, Galvin quickly shifted his attention elsewhere. He withdrew his gaze from the plaza and turned to the massive device in the room’s center. This humming apparatus was essentially a high-powered anti-divinity barrier generator, but for this special occasion, it also integrated an encrypted communication system.
Galvin reached out and activated a crystal on the device’s front. With a series of clicks from the rune plates, the crystal’s surface brightened, projecting a clear hologram before him and Amber.
At the center of the projection stood the golden oak deep within the Rebellious Court. Beside it, Flora, the Spring Maiden, was conversing with Amon. Hearing the communication device’s signal, she rose and approached.
In the dim background, some distance from the golden oak, other tall, imposing figures could be faintly seen—other gods gathered at the “Assembly Grounds,” ready to witness the sacrificial rite.
“The ceremony in Cecil City has begun,” Galvin nodded toward the hologram of Flora. “According to plan, the rites at Typhon and Silverhaven should have started simultaneously.”
“Yes,” Flora nodded promptly, then gestured toward the darkness beyond the Rebellious Court. “My two elder sisters have returned to the divine realm to monitor the sacrificial channel. I remain here to observe the mortal world’s changes.”
“Good,” Galvin replied simply, then suddenly remembered something. “Any issues with the sacrificial offerings or the site’s calibration? Don’t mess this up—this is the first time such a large-scale sacrificial channel has been opened.”
“Don’t worry!” Flora’s face lit up with a radiant smile as she lightly tapped the ground with her forehoof. “Take anything marked ‘Wude Express, Mission Guaranteed’ from the house, but leave the house itself. Don’t take anything unmarked. If no one’s watching, you can take the items, but if someone sees you, you can’t—except for the handover supervisors arranged by the Theocratic Council. Simple. We’ve got it all memorized!”
Galvin nodded, feeling somewhat reassured. Honestly, he wasn’t doubting the Three Goddesses’ ability to remember such simple instructions; he was more worried that their excitement might cause a slip-up. After all, divine beings were still human in nature, and humans tended to lose sharpness near the end of the workday.
As he nodded, Amber suddenly leaned in, eyes wide with urgency. “Wait! Don’t forget to take the stuff on the altar!”
Flora froze. “The altar? What altar?”
“The platform your Abundance Maiden is standing on!” Amber’s eyes nearly popped out. “That’s the real centerpiece of the sacrificial rite! Don’t tell me you actually forgot to collect the offerings afterward?”
Flora fell silent, then began pawing the ground vigorously, turning her face away. “We didn’t forget.”
Galvin sighed.
Meanwhile, at the grand altar in the center of Pioneer Plaza, the Abundance Maiden had completed her prayers and blessings before the sacrifice. The sacred ceremony was about to enter its critical phase.
Under the watchful eyes of thousands of faithful and numerous priests, the golden-haired maiden approached the statues of the Three Goddesses with a solemn expression. She lit the incense prepared before the statues and sprinkled the morning’s collected dew around the incense burner’s edge. Then, amid the priests’ unified prayers, she accepted the sacred offerings from the assistant and placed them before the statues.
These offerings included the first sprout from the temple garden before the Festival of Renewal, snowmelt collected during the last snowfall of winter, and the highest-quality lapis lazuli amulet symbolizing the Three Goddesses’ sanctity.
The maiden laid these gifts at the statues’ feet—not her first time performing the ritual, but undoubtedly the most reverent, serious, and solemn occasion of her life.
Not only because this ceremony had the backing of both the royal family and the Theocratic Council, but also because, on the eve of the royal decree, she had received a divine revelation in her dreams. The goddesses themselves had foretold the arrival of this grand celebration.
Before the royal decree and the edict of the Divine Council were even issued, the “omen” had already been received from the gods themselves. Such prophetic insight—if not true divine grace and miracle—what else could it be? Surely it wasn’t because the gods had held a private meeting with His Majesty the Emperor two months in advance.
With a heart full of gratitude for the divine revelation and brimming with confidence from the royal endorsement, the Fertility Maiden took a gentle breath. She felt this might be the most successful sacrificial ceremony of her life, because… she could already sense the gaze of the gods descending upon this land.
That gaze carried joy—and expectation.
At the edge of Pioneer Square, unnoticed by the worshippers gathered for the ritual, a large warehouse stood quietly in a shadowed alley.
It was an unremarkable warehouse, indistinguishable from the common storage facilities scattered throughout the district. Yet now, around this modest building, a dozen or so sentries were discreetly posted. Plainclothes Judgment Knights and Tribunal Sisters vigilantly guarded every entrance and every street corner nearby, watching for the slightest disturbance. Even the rooftops of surrounding buildings held at least one watchful guardian each.
At the heavily fortified main entrance, in an inconspicuous corner, a small emblem was affixed—an insignia dominated by a sheaf of wheat.
The mark of the Three Fertility Deities.
Where the sacred emblem is found, there lies the altar.
Veronica, clutching her platinum staff, arrived before the warehouse. After a brief exchange with the sentries at the gate, she pushed open the heavy doors and stepped inside.
The warehouse was suffused with an intense artistic aura—tons of explosive units, neatly stacked boxes of cannonballs piled like mountains, endless rows of crystalline bombs, and a dazzling array of other “modern art masterpieces.”
Their common traits: easy to use, durable for storage, simple to maintain, and devastatingly powerful even when detonated on the spot, regardless of launch conditions.
Of course, for safety reasons, this warehouse held only part of the arsenal. All the fuses—activation rune plates—had been removed and stored separately in a twin warehouse across the square, guarded with equal vigilance.
Veronica’s eyes swept the entire space. After one final check to confirm that everything in this “sacred ritual ground” was as expected, she pulled a sheet of paper from her bosom, unfolded it casually, and recited the words with an expressionless voice:
“Symbol of the earth, sovereign of the harvest, messenger of spring and renewal…”
Back at the square, the Maiden raised her hands toward the sacred statue, her voice filled with reverence and awe, echoing in the ears of thousands of faithful:
“Devout worshippers pray to the Three Gods. We are but lambs, prostrate in this mortal realm. Blessed by divine grace, we offer our sincere sacrifice…”
Inside the warehouse, Veronica folded away the prayer sheet. Relying on memory, her monotone voice ended in perfect sync with the Maiden’s blessing:
“…With humble hearts, we present the treasures of the earth. May the gods look kindly upon us and accept this offering.”
In the next instant, a rippling curtain of distorted light flooded Veronica’s vision!
All senses failed at once. The opening of the grand sacrificial portal briefly warped the space-time order within the warehouse. The tons of “artistic treasures” transformed into something between matter and illusion, then were swept away like a storm into the depths of the shimmering veil!
At the square, thousands of worshippers lifted their heads in unison. The Fertility Maiden’s gaze remained fixed on the three offerings at the statue’s base—the ceremony’s most critical moment. Whether the gods were pleased by mortal devotion, whether the year’s harvest and fortune would be secured, all depended on whether the invisible force would claim the offerings.
The golden-haired girl dared not blink. She stared for what felt like an eternity, and just as unease began to rise within her, the vision she longed for finally appeared.
The unseen curtain of light descended from above, and where it passed, the offerings vanished into thin air.
Even the tray that held them seemed to have disappeared…
The Maiden blinked, glancing at her assistant, who looked equally flustered.
This was something they had never seen before.jpg.
But as a high-ranking priestess, composure was the most basic requirement of her position. The Maiden quickly shook off her shock at “the Three Goddesses even took the tray,” and within a second, she devised a reason to convince herself and all the faithful. Turning toward the square, facing the thronging crowd, she proclaimed loudly—
“Rejoice! The gods are pleased by our devotion—immensely pleased!!”
The next moment, thunderous applause erupted across the square.
At the same time, around the Golden Oak in the Rebellion Courtyard, the watching gods also broke into applause.
(End of chapter)