Chapter 13: Outsiders Are Simply Unworthy
“There’s a strange sense of familiarity…”
Yonglan gazed at the incredibly divine statue, frowning slightly.
“What preposterous nonsense are you spouting?” Zhenxian asked, puzzled. “Even if you’ve never seen it before, as an offspring of the First King, our great lord’s majestic form should be imprinted on everyone’s soul. It’s perfectly normal to feel familiar and close.”
*Remember the first release website domain: 𝕥𝕨𝕜𝕒𝕟.𝕔𝕠𝕞*
The problem is, I’m not an offspring of the First King at all! Yonglan couldn’t explain, so he could only lean back in his chair and observe the long-desired prayer ritual.
Since a prayer ritual is a ceremony to seek blessings from the First King, there are naturally different scales and standards. Simply gathering together isn’t enough to call it a “prayer.”
First, there must be a “High Master” to preside over the ceremony, meaning a qualified Priest. Those with this Talent are extremely rare.
The Holy Descendants are undoubtedly the most qualified. They are the first race to be blessed with the First King’s Blood, and the Sects founded by the High Masters of the Saintly have unified all thought within the Xuntian Dynasty.
Even though the Holy Church’s doctrine is no longer the sole option, it remains the most mainstream orthodox faith.
Secondly, fuel and offerings must be prepared. This is not for the worship of the Primal King, but to maintain communication with the heavens above. The resources required to establish a channel are immense.
However, this is not a problem for the wealthy Holy Church, whose lotus throne is surrounded by materials, either pure and radiant Gemstones or vibrant extraordinary plants.
Undoubtedly, this is a feast that ordinary Civilians can hardly participate in throughout their lives. Only under the grace of the Holy Church do they have the right to behold its glory.
“Dong—”
The bell chimed precisely on time, and the sanctuary fell silent.
In front of the Holy Icon, a Holy Descendant adorned in a snow-white robe spread his arms and his gentle voice filled the hall: “My dear brothers and sisters, please set aside your thoughts for a moment and listen to my words.”
His hair was entwined with golden thorns, and his eyes were covered by a silver blindfold. He nodded with a devout posture and said, “In the great wheel of life created by the First King, uncertainty and chaos still linger. The strife and suffering in this world are due to the fact that all beings have not fully received our lord’s blessings. Since the collapse of the Xuntian Dynasty, this reality has been heartbreaking.”
“But fortunately, we also have a way to briefly shed our impurities, which is to let the Spirit Matter ascend and embrace our lord’s wondrous grace! Through contemplation and devout Purification, we can cast away hatred, anger, and delirium, and find the measure of beauty and harmony.”
“So, everyone, please walk with me, feel our lord’s compassion, and play a part in the great wheel of life!”
The Holy Descendant with Golden Blood then turned, placed his hand on the Holy Icon, and declared loudly, “I implore the Primal King, the Ancestor of Origin, the Lord of the Mortal World, to show compassion here.”
“Disperse the Seed of Fire, usher in the dawn, and bestow upon us blessings and missions.”
“Hoo—”
Accompanied by a burst of sound, the materials piled on the lotus throne ignited, and the Holy Radiant Stones shone brightly.
A warmth that enveloped the soul spread out. Although nothing could be seen, everyone knew—the channel between the Primal King and the mortal world had opened. From the place where all souls come and go, a magnificent flow of Spirit Matter gushed forth.
“Ring the great bell twelve times, praise the First King!”
Outside the hall, hundreds of Attendants began to strike the enormous bronze bells, one after another.
Simultaneously, the materials piled around the Holy Icon were lit. With the pouring of fuel, the First King’s Holy Icon blazed with glory.
Everyone in the sanctuary clasped their fingers tightly and bowed in prayer: “Praise the First King! The Sacred Fire births your Scepter from the Earth Vein, and the cracks are the glory of coronation.”
“Forge the Spine, starlight becomes chains, bound into the hearts of the Citizens.”
“Praise the First King! Accept the sacred covenant, and every drop of morning dew carries fragments of your spiritual body.”
“We kneel like waves of wheat, our bloodlines surging with verses written in silver and stardust.”
“Praise the First King! The laws hang high like the sun, mountains bow their heads to listen, and the stars pause in their orbits in the sky.”
“In the newborn dawn, we raise the Holy Grail, filled with golden bubbles floating on top.”
“………………..”
Ababa ababa ababa….. Yonglan, of course, didn’t know these prayer verses. After perfunctorily reciting them, he observed the people around him.
As the chanting continued, faint crimson flames flickered on people’s foreheads. Everyone wore expressions of extreme comfort and joy, emitting contented sighs.
The surging Spirit Matter was so dense that it seemed to pierce the veil of reality, enveloping everyone in sublime bliss.
But what about me? Why can’t I feel anything at all! Seeing everyone around him improving, Yonglan almost gritted his teeth.
As expected, outsiders are simply unworthy! Yonglan had anticipated this and wasn’t too disappointed. He wasn’t an indigenous person, so the benefits for the First King’s offspring were naturally not for him.
It was just that the waiting time felt incredibly long for him. Only when the materials piled before the Holy Icon were exhausted did the soft glow enveloping the sanctuary dissipate.
Everyone opened their eyes, still wanting more, savoring the lingering aftereffects of the ritual. Some immediately wrote down the inspiration they received; others rubbed their faces, feeling the changes brought about by being nourished by the First King’s Spirit Matter; even more used Spiritual Matter Arts on the spot to test their achievements.
Only after a while, when the solemn bell signaling the end of the prayer rang again, did the sanctuary fall silent once more.
The Holy Descendant High Master who presided over the ceremony said, “Everyone, this grace ends here. I hope you can maintain your devout and pure faith, and the First King will surely bless you all.”
“Praise the First King!”
“Praise the First King!”
………
“Thank you for your hard work, Lord Yingxing.”
The people in the sanctuary reluctantly rose and thanked the Holy Descendant High Master named Yingxing before successively departing.
However, some nobles did not leave. They gathered around the Holy Descendant High Master, engaging in polite conversation.
“Heh, looks like we’ll have to wait.” Zhenxian chuckled, “They won’t give up until they’ve sufficiently impressed the High Master of the Holy Church.”
Yonglan had enough patience for this. He sat in the back, chatting with the silver-haired older woman, and learned about the standing of a Holy Descendant High Master.
High Masters capable of presiding over prayer rituals were already rare and noble Priests. Furthermore, the Holy Church regarded High Masters as crucial pillars capable of managing affiliated city-states. Master Yingxing was one of only three Holy Descendant councilors in Chang, and could even be considered one of the most powerful individuals. The rise and fall of nobles in Chang rested on his whim.
The pleasantries after this prayer ritual lasted for a long time. Only after the last noble had left did the silver-haired older woman bring Yonglan forward.
“Lord Yingxing, as you instructed, I have brought the optimizer here.” Zhenxian bowed to the Holy Descendant High Master with a solemn expression that Yonglan found unfamiliar.
“Zhenxian, you have done well.” Despite being surrounded by so much flattery, Yingxing showed no signs of impatience and nodded at Zhenxian. “Among the Demonkin in Chang, your attitude towards atonement is the most upright. I will add several more achievements to your evaluation, and I wish you success in obtaining the Ring and Crown soon.”
Although Yingxing’s tone was gentle, there was a sense of condescension. Even Yonglan, as an outsider, could tell. The silver-haired Demonkin’s lips twitched, and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and said with a tremor, “…Thank you for your mercy.”
Yingxing paid no mind to Zhenxian’s reaction. He then turned his attention to Yonglan. Although his eyes were covered, Yonglan could still sense his delight. “You must be Mr. Yonglan?”
“Indeed… your charm is extraordinary.”
