World Memorial Ceremony (2) . . .
Three kingdoms had crumbled under the weight of the House of the Chaotic Storms throughout history. It was an era marred by countless casualties, families torn asunder, and dreams shattered—a toll as immeasurable as the grains of sand along the Ganges River.
In the present, the House of the Chaotic Storms orchestrated an extravagant spectacle, raising an altar in the sky for the World Memorial Ceremony—a solemn event that sent ripples of astonishment throughout the world. People gathered in hushed anticipation, curious about the ceremony's intent.
The world was engulfed in an expectant silence, but this tranquility was shattered by the sudden resounding of a drumbeat. The sound seemed to emanate from the heavens, yet it reverberated deep within the hearts of all who listened, causing their very souls to tremble.
The drumbeats continued—steadily and with purpose. They resounded like a sacred call to those who beheld the sky. Simultaneously, the rainbows began to descend, forming a stairway in the heavens—one step at a time. Each step appeared just the right size for a single individual to stand upon. As the ninety-nine steps unfurled, the drum ceased its echoing.
Ninety-nine drumbeats for ninety-nine steps—it was as though a cosmic countdown had concluded. The world fell silent once more, every eye turned skyward, awaiting the incomprehensible.
Could anyone truly ascend this otherworldly stairway to reach the altar? It seemed a feat beyond human capabilities, a task reserved for gods or spirits. The world held its collective breath, poised for revelation.
Then, as if to defy the natural order, three figures began to rise from the earth, ascending to the heavens. They were all clad in pristine white, appearing as though they were spun from the purest snow.
Among them, a young man stood, his face as radiant as jade, his hair as dark as the abyss. Flanking him on either side were two exquisite women, their grace and beauty unparalleled.
Even the most ignorant souls among the onlookers recognized them instantly.
They were none other than the enigmatic Master Bai, known as the true master of the House of the Chaotic Storms. He had guided the fate of the world for nine millennia, yet his true visage had remained veiled in mystery until this very moment. And by his side stood the illustrious Wan of the Clouds and Xiu of the Heavens.
Their appearance immediately followed the words, "House of the Chaotic Storms."
"On the left stood Wan of the Clouds;"
"On the right stood Xiu of the Heavens."
"With a wave of his hand, he could summon winds and clouds;"
"By extending his arms, he could even grasp the universe!"
Their identities were etched into the collective memory of the Land of Han-Yang. However, this was the first time the world would glimpse their true countenances.
The spectacle left the observers staggered in disbelief. Many had envisioned aged, terrifying figures, their long white hair billowing as they moved with rickety, frail bodies—stories from a bygone era. It had never crossed their minds that these paragons of power and influence would appear so youthful and vigorous.
With each step they took upon the heavenly stairway, their presence radiated strength and solemnity. The wind tousled their white robes and hair, imbuing their figures with an otherworldly grace. Step by step, they ascended the long stairway, an embodiment of unwavering determination.
The imposing staircase reached its conclusion, and they reached the altar.
Master Bai stood at the center of the grand celestial altar. He cast his gaze upward, his eyes resting upon the otherworldly edifice that seemed like an ethereal construct woven from the fabric of myth itself. A sigh escaped his lips, and with a subtle, graceful wave of his hand, three radiant rainbows descended into his palm. There, in his grasp, they transformed into three resplendent incense sticks.
In a voice that resonated with authority and reverence, Master Bai declared, "Under the watchful eyes of the sun and the moon, upon the altar forged in the realm between the sky and earth, with incense crafted from the very essence of rainbows, I conduct this solemn memorial ceremony for the departed souls. Many times, the House of the Chaotic Storm bore witness to lives fading away. We may not have intended such a consequence, but the burden lies upon us."
He continued, "Today, as foretold by destiny and bearing the mantle of the world conqueror, I stand here to commemorate the souls that have faded away. Although my efforts may be insufficient, I offer this gesture to express my sincerity and seek atonement for the lives lost."
Master Bai lowered the incense sticks with a modest bow, Wan-Er and Xiu-Er following suit.
First, he spoke of the kingdoms that had crumbled under the weight of the House of the Chaotic Storms, wishing them peaceful and joyous afterlives. Second, he extended his condolences to those who had fought and perished in the name of the House. The third tribute was dedicated to the innocent citizens who had succumbed due to his actions, wishing them tranquility in the afterlife.
In a solemn procession, he continued, extending his condolences to all living beings who had met their demise as a result of his influence, and he continued through a lengthy series of similar tributes.
His words reverberated with clarity, their solemnity resounding to every corner of the world. As he spoke, dark plumes of smoke began to rise from various locations, unfurling and dissipating into the boundless sky. These were the unaddressed grievances of countless souls that had lingered, and now they were finally granted release.
With each proclamation of "I wish them happy and peaceful afterlives," it felt more like an unyielding directive than a mere wish. Master Bai was not merely expressing intent—he was commanding it.
The world stood in collective silence, awe-struck by the phenomenon unfolding before them. It was as if he had issued an absolute decree: "Whoever met their demise because of me shall now be free to embark on their transmigration to their next life."
No one dared to object or obstruct this sacred process. The world held its breath, captivated by the mesmerizing ceremony, as a litany of lost souls finally found their path to eternal rest.
Master Bai's voice resonated, penetrating the silent, windswept world, and even the very air seemed hushed in deference to his words.
"Chaotic storm for nine thousand years. How many kingdoms have risen and fallen. Countless wars, a billion souls in suffering…" his voice bore the weight of history. "Here and now, I humbly extend my apology to the world. I apologize."
In the midst of this profoundly significant event, he proclaimed, "Henceforth, the House of the Chaotic Storm shall exist no more! Wan of the Clouds and Xiu of the Heavens shall vanish from this world for all eternity. I shall depart, never to return."
Here, he declared the commencement of the World Memorial Ceremony—a tribute that echoed across the planes and realms. "I bow to these illustrious souls and pray for their prosperity and peace in the afterlife. Gods and spirits of the world, heed my call!"
The world's silence was broken only by his unwavering voice. "The dark abyss below shall bow to my command! Open the gates for these souls, and there shall be no delay. As decreed by destiny, under the mantle of the world conqueror, transgressors shall be condemned for all eternity!"