Chapter 952: The “Chosen” Amber

The Dragon God spoke with unmistakable seriousness—there was no hint of jest in His tone. Naturally, a deity had no reason to joke about something like this with Amber.

Amber’s radiant smile suddenly stiffened.

“I knew it,” Gawain couldn’t help but glance at Amber and said casually, “Your whole ‘Shadow Chosen’ thing—are you sure it’s not just some drunken delusion?”

“No… it shouldn’t be!” Amber immediately grew excited, even raising her voice in front of the Dragon God. “I really am chosen! I’ve been the Chosen for decades… I even talked with the goddess herself! She taught me so many things…”

Gawain found himself both amused and bewildered. “What exactly did the goddess teach you?”

“Like flipping pans… and how to bake little thin pancakes…” Amber blurted out, but her voice quickly trailed off, growing softer and softer. “Of course, it’s not just that… there are some really powerful things too…”

Gawain: “…?”

Even with Gawain’s vast repertoire of witty remarks, Amber’s words sounded increasingly absurd. He’d never asked Amber in detail what she’d supposedly learned from the “Shadow Goddess,” and hearing this now, he was at a loss. He was beginning to suspect that Amber’s conviction about being chosen was just a hallucination from some serious binge drinking—after all, no normal person would get that drunk over a couple of peanuts…

Yet despite her weakening voice, Amber’s expression never wavered.

“…Child, your story is… interesting,” the Dragon God finally broke the silence, looking at Amber with a strange expression. Neither Gawain nor Veronica noticed that it wasn’t disdain or dismissal in His gaze, but rather a kind of… scrutiny and observation. “But do you know that the Shadow Goddess I know… could never have cultivated any Chosen in this era? She can’t even reliably respond to mortal faith. So do you really think a deity like that would chat with you, or teach you those strange… ‘skills’?”

Amber’s eyes widened slowly, looking somewhat lost. Then she turned to Gawain, her gaze pleading—she still wanted to hold on to her long-held belief, but today she faced the most powerful, unarguable doubt she’d ever encountered. A god, a deity lingering in the mortal world, was telling her that everything she believed was impossible.

The ever-cheerful Amber suddenly seemed unable to keep her spirits up.

Gawain noticed the shift in her mood. Hesitating, he patted her shoulder, then frowned and looked toward the Dragon God Enya. “You said the Shadow Goddess can’t reliably respond to mortal faith?”

“The continent of Loren is home to many faiths, and most mortals have their beliefs,” the Dragon God said. “But have you ever heard of the Shadow Church having a formal doctrine or a strict organization? Have you heard of large-scale shadow cults or shadow priests preaching across the land?”

Veronica shook her head. “No. The shadow faith has always been weak and… chaotic since recorded history began. While there have been some divine responses from shadow-leaning deities, and a few gifted individuals capable of shadow miracles supported by their spiritual talents, these scattered faith activities never formed an official church. As far as I know, shadow worship only exists in loose, secretive small sects in remote areas. Their doctrines are a mess, and many are just con artists deceiving ignorant farmers. Since the Imperial Theological Department was established, we’ve cracked down on more than one such group.”

She glanced at Amber. “As head of intelligence, you should be aware of this.”

“I… I do know,” Amber’s mood sank. “But that doesn’t prove—”

“Because the deity’s feedback is weak, the church can’t form a stable, unified system of divine magic. Yet the weak feedback still exists, so believers develop all kinds of strange, even contradictory doctrines based on their own understanding or illusions. That’s the current state of the Shadow Goddess,” the Dragon God said calmly. “So she can’t respond to you, much less elevate you to Chosen.”

“Why is the Shadow Goddess in this state?” Gawain immediately asked. From the description, it was clearly abnormal. And regardless of whether the Shadow Goddess was ‘normal’ or not, any information about deities was something he wouldn’t let slip by. “And if she can’t give strong feedback or elevate Chosen, then who exactly has Amber been worshipping and communicating with all this time?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Amber quickly looked at the Dragon God, then suddenly turned to Gawain, disbelief written all over her face. “Ah, you… you never believed I could contact a god before…”

Gawain glanced at her. “I believe you now.”

The Dragon God looked at both of them, seemingly uninterested in their exchange, casually answering Gawain’s question. “Regarding the Shadow Goddess’s condition… I do know a lot. But before I answer, I want to ask you—how much do you know about the secrets of the ancient gods?”

“The secrets of the ancient gods?” Gawain’s heart skipped a beat. The Dragon God seemed to be hinting at something, but he kept his composure. “What do you mean?”

“For example…” The Dragon God looked Gawain in the eye and spoke slowly, “There was once a group called the ‘Voyagers,’ powerful beings who killed nearly all the gods of the civilization from 1.87 million years ago…”

The entire hall fell deathly silent.

Amber’s eyes went wide. Veronica sat up straight, stunned. They both seemed to doubt their own ears—gods could fall, that much they knew, but they clearly had no idea about the ancient godslaying fleet and the war that wiped out nearly all the gods.

Gawain’s expression was equally shocked. He stared fixedly at the deity before him, not doubting the Dragon God’s words—he already knew about these events—but he hadn’t expected the Dragon God to bring it up so casually.

The Dragon God knew about the godslaying war… which wasn’t surprising to Gawain, who had long suspected this deity had been active since ancient times. Since the dragons had survived countless magical cataclysms and witnessed civilization after civilization rise and fall, and had close ties with the Voyagers, their gods must have endured just as long.

Gods and civilizations share the same lifespan—this was a rule Gawain and his experts had deduced after extensive study of divine mechanics.

Yet the Dragon God spoke of it so openly, so without hesitation…

Gawain suddenly realized that this trip to Tal’Rond might be one of his best decisions ever. Now, at least, he finally knew the exact timing of that ancient godslaying war—1.87 million years ago.

“The Voyagers… killed nearly all the gods of that civilization 1.87 million years ago?” Veronica finally broke the silence. “That is…”

“That is something I personally experienced,” the Dragon God said calmly. “I can’t tell you more details, because even I can’t safely reveal what happened at that time or before to a mortal. But I can assure you—it really happened.”

“So what does all this have to do with the Shadow Goddess’s unusual state?” Gawain couldn’t help but ask.

“If you know gods have died, then you should also know that gods are reborn in every cycle of civilization,” the Dragon God said, as if discussing the weather. “I suppose you’ve already studied this, haven’t you? Perhaps you’re even planning to use this knowledge for some bold purpose. Don’t deny it—it means nothing to me.”

Amber’s eyes widened. As head of intelligence, she was extremely sensitive to leaks. “How do you know that?”

“Just by roughly understanding what you’ve been up to recently, it’s not hard to guess what you know,” the Dragon God said indifferently. “I see through many things because I’ve seen many things.”

Gawain grew more cautious. He realized that this seemingly gentle deity would be the hardest opponent if hostile. Even ignoring divine power, this ancient being’s knowledge, experience, and wisdom far surpassed mortals and even any current god. How much more does He know? How much has He guessed? Does He understand the Defiance Plan? Does He know about the theological experiments of the Cecile Empire? Has He seen through their thoughts? Has He seen through… him, this “alien visitor”?

Gawain struggled to control his spiraling thoughts, maintaining a calm exterior as he nodded slightly. “We have indeed discovered that gods are reborn with each civilization cycle, and roughly deduced the mechanism of their birth… but what does that have to do with the Shadow Goddess?”

“The Shadow Goddess never underwent rebirth—She has survived continuously, from that war 1.87 million years ago, through countless civilization changes, until your time.”

Gawain was dumbfounded.

“You’re surprised,” the Dragon God said with a faint smile, “but you needn’t be. The Shadow Goddess isn’t the only god to survive that war. Another survivor’s situation is far worse, and now He is almost completely fallen…”

Gawain frowned. “You mean…”

“He fell from the divine realm into the mortal deep sea. Though badly wounded, He originally had a chance to recover… but before He could draw nourishment from the new civilization, some uninvited guests arrived. That poor soul became nourishment for others.”

Gawain immediately understood. “The Storm God…”

The Dragon God truly knew an incredible amount.

“So, two gods survived the ancient war: the Shadow Goddess and the Storm God,” Gawain continued, then suddenly remembered something. “Wait, that should include you too…”

The Dragon God merely wore a faint, inscrutable smile, seeming to acknowledge this without comment.

“So the Shadow Goddess has been lying dormant in a special state?” Gawain brought the conversation back. “That’s why she can’t give strong feedback to believers or elevate Chosen?”

“Exactly.”

“What kind of state is it?” Gawain’s curiosity flared. “Is it… like Amorn’s deathlike sleep? Or like the Magic Goddess’s escape?”

“I’m afraid even I don’t know the answer to that,” the Dragon God said unexpectedly, shaking his head. “I can neither see nor hear Her. All I know is that She’s still alive, existing in a very peculiar state… I’ve tried to find Her, but in every realm I can reach, there’s no trace.”

“So there are things even you don’t know…” High Valen shook his head in disbelief. Then he glanced at Amber beside him before turning back to the Dragon God. “Alright, if what you say is true and the Shadow Goddess’s situation is that unusual… then it’s impossible for her to elevate a mortal to become her chosen. That brings us back to the beginning—Amber claims she’s made contact with a god, so what exactly is she believing in?”

The Dragon God didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he seemed to smile faintly, his gaze settling on Amber. “Child, do you still firmly believe you are the chosen one?”

Amber opened her mouth, hesitating for a moment, but then straightened her chest and said, “Of course!”

“To be honest, I don’t believe there’s any real connection between you and the Shadow Goddess in terms of faith. I don’t see any sign of divine belief in you, no matter how confident you are. That’s my judgment,” the Dragon God said calmly, looking directly at Amber. “But I am willing to believe you are… special. Even if you’re not a chosen, you are unique—and that, to me, is quite interesting.”

“Special?” Amber scratched her head. “What do you mean?”

The Dragon God gave her a long, deep look but said nothing.

Then, quite suddenly from High Valen’s perspective, the deity rose from his seat and addressed everyone present. “It’s getting late. We can end our discussion here for now.”

High Valen was a bit surprised and instinctively said, “But I still have many questions…”

“Yes, I know you do—especially about the gods, about Talrond,” the Dragon God replied, casting a meaningful glance. “I will answer them, but not today.

“Don’t rush to hear answers from the gods. It’s better if you see for yourself first.

“I want you to take a good look around Talrond, to see with your own eyes this ‘Eternal Cradle’ under the protection of the gods. After you’ve seen it, our next conversation will be much smoother.

“You’ll know what questions to ask, and you’ll better understand my answers.”

High Valen’s expression grew thoughtful.

Then he nodded. “Alright, that’s a kindness on your part—we shouldn’t refuse.”

(End of chapter)