Chen Yi spoke slowly.
In his mind, there was a blueprint for a new era.
In this new era, the people would be granted greater powers, the distance between mortals and the Gods would no longer be insurmountable, and the whole world would be transford by tumultuous changes.
Angel Schiller said in a daze,
"Then... what is it?
God, please tell !
I can’t wait any longer for this day."
"Schiller."
Chen Yi called his na, stood up from the throne, and walked slowly to Schiller’s front,
"Then I must first ask you..."
Schiller shivered, a sense of unwarranted guilt rising in his heart, and he asked,
"God, what do you want to ask..."
Chen Yi gazed at Schiller, who knelt on one knee, staring straight into his lucid eyes, the radiance enveloping Schiller.
After a mont, He slowly posed a question that made Schiller tremble.
"Schiller,
why is there fear in your eyes?"
It was like a bolt from the blue.
Schiller stood stiffly in place, forgetting even to shiver for a mont, his half-serpentine body as still as a petrified statue, his wings drooping powerlessly.
Chen Yi waited quietly, not pressuring him, nor making it difficult for him.
After a while, Schiller began to shake violently, as if realizing sothing. He breathed rapidly, exhaling and inhaling, his eyes revealing weakness and struggle, as if scorched by the glow of God.
"God... why would you ask this..."
After a long ti, Schiller didn’t answer God’s question but instead responded with a question of his own.
Cold sweat dripped down from his cheeks. Schiller maintained his kneeling posture, resembling not so much an Angel listening to God’s will but more like a sinner awaiting judgnt.
"Schiller, I see fear in your eyes...
Why would you fear ?"
Chen Yi asked this question.
He rarely saw fear in the eyes of the Angels.
Most Angels, when facing Him, showed respect or reverence, hardly ever fear.
But now, in Schiller’s eyes, He actually saw fear.
The fear was deeply hidden and well concealed, perhaps even unnoticed by Schiller himself.
"I, I don’t know... God,
on that land below, do not the mortals fear You? I suppose, perhaps I’ve seen too much of the Mortal World, been influenced by the mortals, and so...
God... please forgive , beseech Your forgiveness..."
The Great Angel was beginning to ramble, trying desperately to explain to God. After his words spilled out, Schiller quickly regretted it, realizing how pale and feeble his explanations were.
"Schiller, I know... you don’t wish to tell ."
Chen Yi said softly, looking at the Great Angel before Him.
Schiller blurted out subconsciously,
"No, I, how could I not wish to... it’s just, just..."
He couldn’t think of any other excuse, suddenly slumping sideways, collapsing to the ground.
Finally, the Great Angel shed tears, wailing as he confessed,
"Yes, God, I do not wish to tell you..."
Chen Yi sighed, and that sigh pierced like a thorn straight through Schiller’s heart.
"It’s okay, Schiller.
Regardless, this mission is still bestowed upon you."
Schiller raised his face, looking at God cautiously, eyes brimming with tears, appearing utterly pitiable.
The Great Angel said incredulously,
"Is, is... is this true?"
Chen Yi smiled and said,
"Schiller, I once made a promise."
Tears still hanging on his cheeks, Schiller’s face flashed with astonishnt, and then joy surged forth, in his excitent he forgot his original fear.
"God, this is truly... this is truly... I, I don’t know how to praise You..."
Chen Yi gently stroked the Great Angel’s head.
It was as if... none of what had just happened had actually occurred.
Schiller didn’t know whether God had seen through what he was thinking beneath that pallid veil, and if God had seen through him, why then would He still bestow the mission upon him? What plan did He have?
The Great Angel didn’t think further; all he could do was to take one step at a ti.
"Schiller... do you envy Solamus?"
Chen Yi asked thus.
Schiller wiped away his tears and nodded seriously.
The answer was affirmative, and it was not only envy but jealousy as well.
"Then... let give you a mission of equal importance."
Chen Yi said with a smile.
The light tenderly enwrapped Great Angel Schiller, who was montarily stunned.
A mission of equal importance...
As a Divine Angel, Schiller knew what these words ant and was well aware of the profound weight of this concise statent.
Thousands of years ago, when God’s Law was completed, the Heaven and Hell He created, the Heavenly City above and the underworld below, beca not re fantasies but tangible afterworlds.
Since then, the Heavenly City above and the underworld below awaited their absolute descent, and Solamus, the Angel Leader, blew the horn, proclaiming God’s return.
Since then, God’s glory once again stood resolute above the firmant, the supre radiance illuminating all creatures, all beings who died in destruction resurrected to together bear witness to the almighty power of God.
And a mission of equal importance... Schiller could only think of the new era God ntioned before Maisy.
With renewed earnestness, on bended knee, Schiller said with utmost excitent:
"God, what exactly is my mission?
If that burden is heavy, lay it upon my shoulders,
If that path is fraught with danger, set it before !"
............
Not every place is suitable for survival, nor can every place accommodate the footprints of intelligent life.
Nimirda and his followers, after tens of days of sailing, enduring the tornt of the waves, finally arrived at a new land, where they thought they would establish an Eden like King Dertulian.
But what awaited them was a barren land.
The Exiles stepped onto this path with faith and fervor, having made their choice, and now, it was ti to face the consequences.
The land where the Exiles disembarked was a desolate grassland, and on that vast plain, there were hardly any Secret Forests familiar to the Elves, with trees scattered as sparsely as oases in the desert.
The vast plains housed few beasts of prey, mostly so hardy grassland rabbits, not enough to satisfy the settlent needs of Logos’s people.
The lack of prey was not the primary issue; the lack of fertile soil and water sources was the Path of Death. The wheat seeds brought by Logos’s people found no place to sow, nor sufficient fresh water resources.
With no alternative, having co this far, there was no turning back—the Exiles, along with so rfolk who had integrated, advanced on this foreign land, searching for a place to settle.
Yet after more than ten days, they still hadn’t found the holand they sought.
Over these days, Nimirda’s face was etched with the ravages of ti.
As Logos’s people marched on, the supplies they carried were continuously depleted, and the ga they caught scarcely t their needs. Both food and fresh water were being exhausted; disease and hunger began to appear among the Exiles.
The new land was far more barren than they had imagined.
For the land underfoot, the arrival of this group of Logos’s people was simply too abrupt.
Within the ranks of the Exiles, voices of despair and doubt began to erge.
The dimming of hope made the group of Logos’s people lose their conviction that they had received God’s blessing. Their faith wavered amidst the tornts of hunger and illness, with more and more people confessing and questioning their chosen path in their prayers to God.
Even Nimirda, who was regarded as another King Dertulian, beca an object of suspicion. Logos’s people whispered among themselves, questioning whether he truly received a mission from God, and whether he was genuinely guided by Angels. Words like these intermingled and passed between the Exiles.
Not long after...
Death began to appear among the group of Exiles.
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