"Where… am I?"
Hel stared hazily at the mist ahead. The sense of déjà vu reminded her of the illusion Imshi had once created. Yet unlike that illusion, the scene before her felt even more unreal—so much so that all color had drained away, leaving only black and white.
Abruptly, a faint glow appeared in the distance: a milky-white radiance, holy yet tinged with warmth. It felt like a mother's embrace—gentle, comforting.
Driven by instinct, Hel slowly walked toward it.
By the time she realized what she was doing, she had already arrived at the edge of a cliff.
Before her, thousands of white-jade steps floated above a sea of clouds. A light breeze swept by, stirring the billowing clouds until they gradually submerged parts of the staircase, making the steps appear and disappear in and out of sight.
At the end of this long stairway stood a colossal temple built upon a floating island.
The entire temple was pure white. Seven towering spires rose skyward, encircling a central hall. Above the main hall hovered a massive gemstone radiating a soft, gentle glow. Runes flowed across its surface, while strands of pure golden chains linked it to the seven towers.
Beneath the gemstone, upon the Gothic ribbed vault of the central hall, spread a pair of enormous white wings. They were fully extended, enveloping the entire temple as if sheltering it in divine protection.
The breeze carried with it solemn hymns from within the temple—dreamlike and ethereal, unmistakably unearthly. The song irresistibly drew one forward, tempting Hel to approach and see for herself.
And just as Hel unconsciously stepped onto the first stair, the temple's massive doors—each over ten meters tall—slowly opened from within.
Six angels emerged.
They were golden-haired, blue-eyed, each with a pair of wings upon her back. They wore white robes adorned with subtle gold and silver ornaments—olive-leaf-shaped golden circlets, hollowed golden bracelets. Each angel's attire was distinct.
Among them, the angel wearing the olive-leaf circlet slowly flew toward Hel.
With a gentle wave of her hand, Hel's body moved against her will, drifting toward the angel.
"You have finally arrived, proxy of our Lord."
The angel parted her soft pink lips, and a clear, melodious voice—like a songbird's—flowed forth.
"The Lord awaits you within the temple. Please, come with me."
As she spoke, the angel took Hel's hand, like a familiar stranger, and guided her toward the temple.
From beginning to end, Hel remained dazed, as if in a dream.
No—she was dreaming.
She could not recall her memories of reality, nor did she realize she was asleep. Having lost all power, she could only allow the angel to lead her into the temple.
Passing through the massive doorway, she was greeted by an even more magnificent interior.
The vaulted ceiling rose beyond sight. Through a thin veil of mist, faint starlight could be seen drifting across it. The surrounding walls were inlaid with colorful cloisonné murals, each depicting an epic tale.
The Lord of Holy Light defeated the Fallen Goddess in the First Epoch. The Lord of Holy Light spread hope to all beings in the Second Epoch. The Lord of Holy Light—
In the Seventh Epoch, the Lord of Holy Light established the Holy Tribunal Church, bringing the spark of civilization to ignorant humanity.
Dwarves, goblins, elves, giants, orcs, humans…
The radiance of the Lord of Holy Light had shone upon this world through all seven epochs. Even the Goddess of Life was depicted as nothing more than one of her angels.
In every epoch, the Fallen Goddess would appear to sow chaos—spreading corrupt doctrines or plunging the world into disorder. Meanwhile, the Death Sovereign, unwilling to remain idle, would occasionally emerge as well, and whenever he did, the world would descend into carnage.
And at such times, the Lord of Holy Light—emanating boundless radiance—would appear to save the world. She suppressed the Fallen Goddess, drove back the Death Sovereign, and brought hope of survival to the destined races.
Of course, there were times when the Lord of Holy Light failed to arrive in time, and thus an epoch would end.
Epochs turned, new destined races were born, and the Lord of Holy Light would once more appear to guide the rise of civilization.
That was the entirety of the murals' narrative.
Yet after viewing them, Hel couldn't help but grumble inwardly.
'Isn't the Goddess of Life supposed to be on the same level as the Lord of Holy Light How did she become one of her subordinate angels?
And weren't the protagonists of the Fifth Epoch the fairies and the sea-folk? Why did it become elves and giants? Elves and giants were clearly the focus of the Fourth Epoch.
And what about the Second and Third Epochs? Why are they so vaguely depicted?
Did the Lord of Holy Light alter history, or has she herself forgotten the earlier epochs?Wasn't the Third Epoch supposed to belong to angels and demons? How could she forget even the history of her own followers?'
As these thoughts passed through her mind, Hel was led to a towering staircase with hundreds of steps. At its summit stood a white-jade throne.
Upon it sat a graceful figure whose features could not be discerned. Her entire form was shrouded in layers of milky-white holy light, like an oversized fluorescent lamp, shining so brightly that Hel could barely keep her eyes open.
The six angels who had accompanied Hel all knelt on one knee before the throne, one hand over their chests in reverence.
"You have finally come, my child."
A gentle female voice rang out from the throne—mature, soothing, like that of a refined older sister.
The voice was pleasant to the ear, yet to Hel it felt as though a soft feather were repeatedly brushing against her heart, leaving an oddly itchy sensation. Still, that blend of sanctity and allure naturally inspired goodwill.
"Since my birth, I have devoted myself wholly to the development of this world. I guided every civilization, sheltered every civilization—yet because of the interference of evil gods, this world has been forced to restart again and again. And now, the day of another reset draws near."
Hel felt a gentle gaze fall upon her, as though the speaker were observing her reaction to these words.
Yet Hel's expression did not change in the slightest.
Whether it was the towering temple, the angels emerging from within, or even the Lord of Holy Light before her—her face showed no reaction at all.
As if none of this was new to her.
She even had the vague feeling that she might have dissected quite a few of those chicken-like wings behind the angels at some point before.