The crowd in the palace hall ford a dense mass of people. Soldiers, servants, commanders, nobles, and priests of all ranks packed the once-spacious chamber to capacity.
All eyes were fixed on Henir, who stood beside the throne, the Yinsai scepter gripped in his hand.
Their gazes held a myriad of emotions: awe, adoration, hatred, and ambition.
Only Stan Tito seed disconnected from the scene, his eyes locked on the stone coffin in disbelief.
The fate of the kingdom and its future ruler held no interest for him. His world had narrowed to the stark reality before him.
“The Queen is dead?”
He struggled to accept that Her Majesty could be gone so suddenly, feeling a devastation akin to the legendary King Yesael upon seeing the shattered god statue.
In his eyes, the Queen had been the embodint of nobility and strength. The Sky Beast’s power had seed almost godlike to him, soaring through clouds and sky. In his mind, nothing in the world of Yinsai could defeat it.
He still vividly rembered his first ti entering this palace as a re craftsman and commoner. The Queen had stood by the window, bathed in sunlight.
That image was etched in his mind – sacred and breathtakingly beautiful.
She had asked his na with warmth, her smile giving courage to the awestruck craftsman’s son.
It was then that he first understood the true aning of royal bearing.
Stan Tito pushed his way forward through the crowd, finally reaching the foot of the throne. He addressed Henir directly.
“Grand Duke of Volcano, how exactly did Her Majesty die?”
Henir lowered his head, his voice heavy with feigned grief: “The Queen fell victim to the Sky Beast’s loss of control. Though we still don’t know the exact cause of the beast’s rampage, it must be connected to the Sele and Samo Kingdoms.”
“The entire royal army witnessed this tragedy.”
Henir sighed, adding, “Alas, I was besieging the City of Sea Spirits at the ti and couldn’t save Her Majesty.”
“But,” he continued, his voice gaining strength, “the Queen’s passing does not mark the end of everything.”
“I, Henir, vow to make those responsible for Her Majesty’s death pay dearly. I will also carry on her final wishes.”
Henir’s impassioned declaration ignited a fire in the hearts of the soldiers and commanders. Their cheers echoed through the hall, a thunderous affirmation of loyalty to their new leader.
Gradually, the nobles and priests glanced around before joining in with scattered applause.
Stan Tito accepted the explanation, believing that only such extraordinary circumstances could have felled the noble and powerful Star Luo Queen.
He had witnessed firsthand the devastating battle between the Sky Beast and the Burrowing Demon Worm in the God-Descended City, where palaces crumbled and the city lay in ruins.
He had seen the Samo Kingdom’s beast breach city walls, people fleeing in panic, thousands trampled in the chaos.
Now, once again, he faced the terror and death wrought by these beasts.
He couldn’t help but murmur, “O Ruhe, granted by God’s grace!”
“Why do you always bring destruction?”
Henir announced his takeover of God-Servant City and proclaid new edicts. In preparation for potential war with the Samo Kingdom, he ordered military deploynts and personnel arrangents.
With each pronouncent, Henir’s grip on God-Servant City and the Sky Temple tightened, his authority becoming absolute.
As the crowd dispersed, Grand Duke Henir, at the eye of the storm, held Stan Tito back.
Henir nodded to Stan Tito, saying, “Child of Fortune, we et again.”
Stan Tito’s expression was sorrowful: “Indeed. Though I never imagined our reunion would be like this.”
“I rember what you once told
– only those who swim against the current can truly control their fate and the world around them.”
The Child of Fortune looked up at Henir, forcing a smile.
“Congratulations, Grand Duke Henir,” he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of respect and sorrow.
Henir’s eyes bored into Stan Tito’s as he suddenly asked, “Child of Fortune,” Henir’s voice lowered, his eyes intense. “Do you believe I am destined for the throne?”
Stan Tito was taken aback: “That’s not for
to say.”
Henir had already prepared to ascend the throne, but never in history had soone of his background beco king.
He hoped that the descendant of the great Saint Tito, the recognized Child of Fortune, would bless his ascension and prove the legitimacy of his claim to the throne – that he was blessed by the gods.
“If I were to beco king, would you give
your blessing?”
“If that day cos, I hope you’ll hold Saint Tito’s chapters and stand at my left hand.”
“I’d even be willing to entrust the Sky Temple to you.”
Stan Tito was even more surprised: “But I’m just an ordinary person, not a priest.”
Henir was clearly not one to follow conventions; he was accustod to breaking norms.
“What of it?”
“Does serving the gods rely on power?”
“No, it’s about devotion to the divine.”
Henir looked at him earnestly: “Descendant of the Saint, most devout Child of Fortune.”
“Isn’t it fitting for soone like you to control the Sky Temple and serve the great Yinsai God?”
Stan Tito replied: “If that day truly cos, I’ll consider it.”
He didn’t agree on the spot but didn’t refuse either.
This aligned with his usual character – modest and compliant.
He was just an ordinary person going with the flow.
A few days later.
The tranquility of night was shattered as a shadowy figure scaled the walls of the Saint’s family residence, an uninvited guest arriving under the cover of darkness.
Stan Tito rose in the night to receive this visitor – the forr High Priest of the Yinsai Temple in the God-Descended City, one of his few friends in the Star Luo Kingdom.
The priest appeared to have co in haste, breathing heavily.
His first words made Stan Tito’s face pale.
“There’s sothing wrong with Her Majesty’s death.”
Stan Tito imdiately stood up: “What do you an? What’s wrong?”
The priest leaned in close: “Before Her Majesty fell in battle, Henir had given orders to his subordinates to wait for an opportunity.”
“Henir knew about Her Majesty’s death in advance and had made preparations.”
The priest slamd his fist on the table in fury, his eyes bloodshot: “This is all a conspiracy. Henir must be connected to Her Majesty’s death.”
Stan Tito asked: “How do you know this?”
The priest replied: “I never believed Henir’s words. To investigate the true cause of Her Majesty’s death, I controlled this person.”
“I extracted this information from his mories.”
With that, the priest produced an object.
It was a newly ford Sun Cup, only palm-sized, with an illusion symbol etched onto its delicate golden petals.
Stan Tito didn’t reach for it, instead asking, “What is this?”
The priest offered it to him, urging Stan Tito to take it.
“This is a Sun Cup imbued with illusion magic. I made a few of these.”
“The information and images I extracted are stored within. It can also aid you if you encounter danger.”
Stan Tito hesitated before accepting the Sun Cup.
He asked the priest: “Why give this to ?”
The priest replied: “Henir has his eye on . If sothing were to happen to , these secrets might never co to light.”
“Stan!” the priest’s voice was urgent. “You may not possess the power of wisdom, but I see in you extraordinary potential and strength.”
“You are the descendant of Saint Tito, the chosen Child of Fortune.”
“From the mont I first t you, I sensed you carried a great destiny, just like your ancestor.”
The priest gazed at Stan Tito with sincere eyes, as if trying to convey his deepest convictions.
Stan Tito remained silent for a long while.
He lowered his head, avoiding the priest’s gaze.
“You think too highly of . I’m just an ordinary person.”
The priest smiled: “All legends begin with the ordinary and mundane.”
He left Stan Tito’s residence, stepping onto the main road of God-Servant City under the moonlight.
Suddenly, he noticed shadows elongating and sliding past in the moonlight on the other side.
The priest imdiately sensed danger and ran quickly towards the distance.
As he turned a corner, sounds of fighting and killing erupted.
The struggle was brief, the outco swift and brutal. Monts later, several priests from the Volcano Duchy erged from the shadows. Behind them, a squad of soldiers moved with grim purpose, bearing away a burden shrouded in secrecy.
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