Chapter 1573: After the Celebration

The grand ritual lasted the entire day. Only as dusk deepened and night approached did the sacred ceremonies in Pioneer Square finally come to a close. Yet even then, a large crowd remained both inside and outside the square. After the formal rites, the people’s own festivities and amusements began. A sprawling night market would run from evening well into the next day, with street performers, dancers, and artisans selling local specialties taking over the celebration.

The blessings and prayers of the day belonged to the gods; the revelry and leisure of the night belonged to the mortals.

Following the solemn, intricate rituals, the festival’s free-spirited joy burst forth. At night, Pioneer Square was even livelier than during the day.

Freed from strict rules and the austere, rigid church music, the square was now filled with vendors and roaming performers who had set up makeshift stages. Local merchants sold souvenirs around the edges, while magicians and dancers from the Kant and Tansan regions performed in designated areas arranged by the city. Cheerful melodies and hawking voices blended together, while bright arrays of magical crystal lamps floated overhead, illuminating the festive night.

For children, this was often the happiest part. They didn’t understand the solemnity of the church rituals or the stories and traditions of the Three Goddesses of Plenty. To them, a religious festival like the Festival of Renewal was sharply divided into two parts: the strict, dull, and stifling daytime, and the night market where they could eat, drink, and play to their heart’s content. Once the priests had left, the children—dressed in new clothes—became excited, shouting and running through the square. Their parents’ anxious or resigned calls echoed behind them, becoming another layer of the night’s lively “scenery.”

Veronica, holding her platinum scepter, walked slowly through the bustling crowd, smiling gently as she took in everything around her.

Clad in a pure white gown, the “Saint Princess” surrounded by a faint glow and carrying her scepter should have been an unmistakable figure in the crowd. Her calm and composed demeanor seemed out of place amid the lively scene. Yet the people in the square appeared completely unaware of her presence. The flow of passersby naturally and instinctively parted around her. She moved forward at a measured pace, as if walking outside the world, maintaining just the right distance from everything around her.

She stopped and looked ahead.

There was a simple stage—not much more than a modified large wagon. The rear half had been unfolded and reinforced with support beams to form a makeshift platform. A dancer in a pale purple dress twirled at its center. Though the early spring night was still chilly, her movements were lively, her smile full of joy. Nearby, two musicians played a flute and a seven-stringed zither. The tune was a simple folk melody, far less solemn and grand than the church hymns of the day, but the performers were fully absorbed in their music. The audience gathered around the stage—some clapped and cheered, others turned away, and some simply stood quietly at the edges watching.

Veronica’s gaze settled on a figure standing quietly at the edge. The woman’s golden, slightly curled hair stood out in the night. She seemed to notice Veronica’s gaze and looked up, surprised to see her. Then she offered a polite, warm smile.

“Good evening, Princess Veronica. I never expected to see you here, in such a lively yet somewhat coarse place.”

“I don’t find it coarse. This is part of the land,” Veronica replied with a smile. “But you—didn’t you have many duties to attend to after the grand ritual, as the Saint of Plenty?”

The woman before her was none other than the Saint of Plenty who had presided over the day’s ceremonies. But now she stood without her accompanying clergy, dressed not in priestly robes but like an ordinary citizen, clearly enjoying the festival. She shrugged lightly at Veronica’s question.

“Didn’t you say the grand ritual was over? My work is done. The assistants and priests in the temple will handle the rest.”

“I see. That’s quite different from the Church of the Holy Light. When I was a saint in the northern church, I was much busier than you,” Veronica said casually. “So, you’re here to enjoy the festival?”

“Is that strange? The gods bless the earth, so enjoying the joys of this earth is the best way to honor them,” the Saint of Plenty said matter-of-factly. “Tonight, everyone is free to revel here—including you and me.”

Veronica said nothing for a moment, instead looking up at the dancer on the wooden stage. After a long pause, she murmured to herself, “The Festival of Renewal happens every year. It was here before the establishment of the Divine Authority Council, and it remains after. For the followers of the Harvest Goddesses, it’s the day the Three Goddesses bless the land. But for most non-believers, it’s just a celebration.”

“I agree with you,” the Saint of Plenty replied calmly. “For non-believers, today is merely a festival. But this festival has been passed down for thousands of years. There’s no denying that the influence of the Three Goddesses has become an indispensable part of it. People hang dried wheat sheaves on their doors, see the morning dew on the grass as a good omen for the year, and eat sweet pies on this day. These customs span several countries, regardless of whether the people there worship the Three Goddesses or not. But as a Council executor, you surely know these customs are actually variations of ancient doctrines from the Cult of Plenty.”

Veronica listened quietly. She knew the woman spoke the truth and had accepted these facts from the start. As Gawain had told her—the power of faith had grown over thousands of years on this land, woven through the entire history of Loren civilization. It was not a mere impurity to be excised from culture, nor a “disease” to be “cured” quickly. Rituals, norms, and dogmas born from faith had subtly become essential to the mortal world’s functioning. They had become habits in everyday speech, etiquette in social interactions, even the basis for judging fortune and misfortune.

The Divine Authority Council could reshape the church, adjust ideologies, and loosen faith into a harmless force. But ultimately, some things that had evolved into social customs were nearly impossible to eradicate, because they had become part of civilization itself.

Take tonight’s celebration, for example—the dancer twirling in the cold wind, the children in new clothes weaving through the crowd, and the parents who could only watch helplessly as their kids ran wild—

The gods had said that on the night of the Festival of Renewal, parents should be lenient with their children, for the gods would be displeased by their crying. Ordinary people outside the Cult of Plenty might not know this teaching, but almost everyone knew that children must not be beaten on this day.

This was a part even the Divine Authority Council could hardly interfere with—a “projection” left by faith’s imprint on cultural inheritance. But in truth, the Council had no intention of meddling with such harmless customs.

“The Council’s purpose is to make this world safer. We never intend to abolish the church, nor are we enemies of the gods,” Veronica said with a smile, shaking her head. “Everything we do is to help you.”

The Saint of Plenty smiled back, as if casually asking, “Like today’s rather unusual celebration?”

Veronica raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I can feel it—the rituals today were… unusual,” the Saint said frankly, meeting Veronica’s gaze. “This was an exceptionally grand event, rare even in the ‘old days.’ The unprecedented support from the royal family and the Council has excited some in the church, who see it as a sign that the ‘winds are changing.’ But I’m not as blindly optimistic as they are.

“Princess Veronica, I don’t know exactly what the Council and His Majesty intend, but reason tells me you wouldn’t do all this without cause. You say the Council is not the enemy of the gods, but I know the old order of faith is something you can never tolerate. And in a way, the old order is the ‘god’ of each church. From that perspective… all those inscrutable orders from the Council must have a true purpose that terrifies us old-fashioned clergy.

“I dare not guess what that ‘true purpose’ is, but I think… it’s certainly not because His Majesty suddenly wants to awaken the devotion of all beings, is it?”

Veronica looked at the smiling Saint with some surprise. In a way, this woman was her “peer,” and her sharpness caught her off guard. After a moment, Veronica smiled as usual.

“But you still cooperated with the Council’s orders without hesitation. I saw your performance at the ritual—it was genuine.”

The Saint of Plenty was silent for a moment, then murmured to herself softly, “…Because They are pleased.”

She paused, then repeated, “They are pleased—I can feel it. I told you, though I am not chosen by the gods, I am at least a Seer. I can feel the goddesses’ gaze and their joy at that moment. Both the revelation before the sacrifice and the joy that filled my heart during the ritual show that the Three Goddesses were expecting today’s events. Since They so eagerly awaited it… I carry out my duty unconditionally.”

She looked up at Veronica and added, “Besides that, I won’t investigate further, nor am I interested in the Council’s true purpose. Just take my words as idle chatter—otherwise, it would be too suffocating.”

Veronica watched her quietly for a long moment before nodding gently. “You’re smarter than I thought—wise as a priest, sharp as a person.”

“Thank you for the compliment.” The Saint smiled faintly, then turned her gaze back to the stage. The dancer in the long dress had stopped and was now sitting at the edge of the wooden platform, wrapped in a warm coat. She smiled as she greeted the remaining audience and chatted with a few bold onlookers about traveling with her father and brothers. Neither she nor those around her seemed aware that just meters away stood two “important figures” deep in conversation. Each lived in their own world.

“…You know, when I was little, I even had a rather fanciful dream,” the Bountiful Saintess suddenly said, “I wanted to be a dancer—like that young lady on stage—traveling from place to place, dancing, and maybe even having a little adventure now and then…”

Veronica glanced at her in surprise, then shook her head. “You wanted to be a traveling dancer as a child? Back then, that wasn’t nearly as safe as it is now. But what surprises me more is that someone like you—a ‘Bountiful Saintess’—once had such a dream.”

“Well, childhood is full of wild imaginings, isn’t it? Especially for me, raised by the church from a young age, living a life so dull and monotonous that the biggest entertainment—and the source of all my fantasies—was standing in the temple tower after the annual Renewal Festival, watching the crowds in the square below, or overhearing the priestesses discussing the festival’s rituals,” the Saintess said with a self-deprecating smile. Then she looked at Veronica. “Didn’t you have anything like that in your childhood?”

Veronica stiffened slightly, her expression turning a bit awkward. “My childhood… I mostly just made the people around me nervous.”

“Seems we both had our share of troublesome childhoods,” the Saintess said with a gentle shake of her head, unaware of the burdens the “Princess” before her had endured. “The nurse who cared for me used to get quite upset over my fanciful ideas, but she couldn’t stay angry for long because of the signs of favor I showed from an early age. So every now and then, she’d go to the temple to pray, just to calm herself down…”

What had started as a somewhat guarded negotiation had somehow turned into casual conversation. Veronica didn’t mind the lighter mood and asked casually, “And then?”

The Saintess fell into thought, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “Then, for the first time, I truly felt ‘Their’ presence.”

She turned back to look Veronica in the eyes, her expression calm and resolute. “It was the first time I sensed that gaze beyond the mortal realm, a sincere warmth and ‘love’—in hindsight, it was probably just a passing glance from Them. But in that moment, I realized what kind of beings I was meant to serve, and I understood Their pure and profound care for this world… From that day on, I made the firm decision to become Their follower.

“Princess Veronica, you might think I’m a fanatic, and perhaps I am. But what I want to say is this—if They are truly pleased, then I am willing to cooperate with the actions of the Theocratic Council, not just this time, but always.

“As long as They are pleased, I will do it.”

With those words, the golden-haired Saintess took a small step back and gave Veronica a slight bow. “I’m sorry to have kept you so long. Please allow me to take my leave—enjoy the rest of the festival. You may not see it as a blessing from the gods, but at least it’s something mortals deserve.”

The Saintess turned and walked away. Veronica’s gaze lingered until the figure disappeared into the crowd before she finally withdrew her eyes. She stood there for a moment, then tilted her head slightly, speaking softly as if to someone in the distance: “…Close-range scan complete. Her mental state is stable… Yes, as you heard, rational and clear-headed—perhaps even more so than we initially thought. The other priests directly involved in the sacrificial ritual? Yes, the Tribunal has assigned personnel to monitor them continuously for twenty-four hours…”

(End of chapter)