In the center of Silver Moon City, a bustling crowd gathered en masse.
On both sides of the street, ever-burning magic lamps illuminated the night, revealing an endless stream of people to the eye. Nearly half of the city’s residents had left their hos today to bid farewell to the last of the ’City Founders’ from that year.
After all, apart from Nuo, those who had escaped the great flood with him had long since passed away. Among them, so had achieved minor feats on extraordinary paths, but there were no truly gifted individuals. Thus, under the weight of centuries, they too had naturally been laid to rest in the earth, living on only in people’s mories.
Following a tradition said to descend from the Golden Age, the residents of Silver Moon City erected a stele for each deceased, engraving upon it so tales from their lives. They were uniformly buried near Starfall Lake, where they built a temple dedicated to the three Angels of Death.
This was how people commorated the presence of their ancestors; after all, every person in Silver Moon City today descended from them. And today, it was the turn of their very last mber.
An era was about to end, and from now on, the city would turn a new page. Connios, just an ordinary mber of the city, glanced at the crowded throngs and couldn’t help but smirk.
Tens of thousands, perhaps even over a hundred thousand people—forgive him for not understanding arithtic, for in this age, even the wizards scarcely did.
Experience, tradition, and flashes of inspiration were the mainstay now, with calculation rely a supplentary tool. Besides, even if he understood, Connios doubted he could gauge the exact number of people present with his eyes alone.
This was the largest human city in the world, and although the people of Silver Moon City had not seen other cities, they all believed this to be true.
"Deo, I told you before, the city will be crowded today—even the main avenue. Even if we elbow our way through, it’s impossible to see the Great Prophet," Connios complained as he passed under the tall Silvergate.
Currently, there were three gateways piercing through the central avenue of Silver Moon City, each nad by humans from three different eras, though, according to the original plan, there could be a total of seven layers.
The remaining four would morialize significant events in the future, such as the fourth gateway now under construction—the Enoch Gate. In essence, it ant ’the gateway nad after the Great Prophet Nuo.’
"At a ti like this, those surrounding the Great Prophet are all significant figures, Deo, do you know what a significant figure is? It’s those who can dictate the laws of Silver Moon City, or summon the wind and call the rain with their own power. Clearly, we are not like them."
"I know, but at least we can see the Great Prophet’s remains being escorted out of The Temple and sent to that graveyard. If we’re even luckier, maybe we’ll see the legendary Angels."
Ignoring Connios’s complaints, the girl known as Deo continued to forge ahead through the crowd. However, her slender fra could hardly push through, and so the young man had no choice but to follow and help.
To him, it didn’t really matter what kind of person soone was in life; after death, they were just a corpse. Spending a whole night just to see a dead body seed incredibly boring.
With that ti, he’d rather practice his swordsmanship more, hoping to be recognized by The Temple’s priests as ’eting the standard of will.’ At that mont, he could combine with the ’Curse Attribute’ and beco a reserve Temple Guard.
The Temple’s priests often said that only faith in God could fortify the will and remain unhard against the ntal onslaught of the ’Curse Attribute.’ However, Connios knew it wasn’t entirely true. Perhaps faith was indeed beneficial, but honing swordsmanship and the physique could also temper the spirit. Compared with the elusive piety, he favored things tangible and visible.
Of course, that didn’t an he was faithless. There were hardly any non-believers among the residents of Silver Moon City, regardless of who they were.
"Deo, who do you think will assu the role of the next Patriarch after the Great Prophet’s death?"
"This matter has dragged on for a long ti now, and there should be a conclusion," Connios said, protecting the girl who seed sowhat attractive to him, pushing forward as he spoke casually.
Compared to him, Deo was a model believer. She not only recited the scriptures fluently but also always paid attention to the significant figures who normally had nothing to do with them. Over ti, she had made him familiar with plenty.
This was unusual in Silver Moon City—in fact, even in human societies of later generations, the number of citizens who could call out more than ten nas and positions of their country’s leaders was not in the majority, even more so in this classical age.
"I know what you’re thinking, Connios," Deo said, glancing at the man in front of her while stroking her brown hair. She saw right through his thoughts, but she didn’t think his plans would co to fruition.
"Lord Damian has always advocated for expansion, for Silver Moon City to claim vaster territories. If he becos the next Patriarch, he will certainly increase the quota for Temple Guard recruits. But taking shortcuts is aningless. If you make it through the selection that way, even if you succeed, you will only be at the bottom."
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