World Memorial Ceremony (3) . . .
As Master Bai concluded his poignant address, a remarkable transformation unfolded throughout the world. Vast swathes of dark smoke began to emerge from every corner, darkening the heavens as they coalesced into a vast, shadowy expanse. It was as though a tempest of despair had cast its gloomy veil over the land.
The sun's radiance, once warmly embracing the earth, was now shrouded by this pervasive darkness, rendering the world an eerie, desolate realm.
These ominous tendrils of smoke, initially ascending to approximately ten meters, suddenly surged skyward with an uncanny intensity. The brisk winds, blowing vigorously from the east to the west, promptly dispersed the obsidian murk, revealing the celestial expanse once more.
In the midst of this transformative landscape, Master Bai remained suspended in the heavens, his ethereal attire rippling gently in the unseen currents. His demeanor was solemn yet resolute. With his final utterance, the World Memorial Ceremony came to its culmination, and the world continued to stand in reverent silence.
A poignant stillness enveloped the world, and in that profound hush, every soul could feel the lingering traces of pent-up resentment dissipating like ephemeral morning mist. It was a collective catharsis, a redemptive moment where anguish found solace, and the trapped souls were at last set free.
This event appeared like an exquisite tapestry of divine intervention—a celestial masterpiece. The House of the Chaotic Storms' departure from the world bore tidings of relief for the rulers of the Land of Han-Yang. The yoke that had weighed upon them, the constant fear of being replaced, was suddenly lifted.
Master Bai, the harbinger of this transformation, looked around with an uncharacteristic, serene smile. The smile, in contrast to his earlier solemnity, bore a sense of ease and contentment.
In that very moment, a radiant sword ascended from within the royal palace of the Kingdom of Chen, soaring skyward until it was poised before Master Bai. Upon this sacred sword lay a pristine white cloth, gently fluttering in the breeze.
With a graceful wave of his hand, Master Bai retrieved the sword, and the sword and cloth fell into his grasp. Unfurling the cloth, he was greeted by a message, and his smile broadened, adopting an air of casual elegance.
These were words, reflections that contained wisdom and insight, meant to be read without the constraints of a formal signature. They were unmistakably from the hand of Chen Xuantian, the revered king of the Kingdom of Chen.
The message, as Master Bai read and absorbed its meaning, spoke of the history in which the House of the Chaotic Storms had played a pivotal role. It acknowledged the influence of the House, recounting how it had instilled a deep-rooted fear among the kings of the Land of Han-Yang, compelling them to rule wisely and justly.
The message stated that the World Memorial Ceremony was not necessary, as it could potentially relinquish a form of restraint. The absence of the Chaotic Storm's presence might unleash unchecked tyranny in the future, causing untold suffering. It recognized the inevitability of human ambition, the pursuit of power and glory inherent in all kings.
With the Chaotic Storms departing, Chen Xuantian extended his heartfelt well-wishes, expressing the hope for a future bathed in the luminous glory of the Human Realm Upon Heavens. His words carried profound wisdom, and although unaccompanied by a formal signature, they resonated with the unmistakable voice of the King of the Kingdom of Chen.
Master Bai gracefully pivoted and directed his gaze towards the royal palace of the Kingdom of Chen, where King Chen Xuantian resided. A warm, appreciative smile graced his countenance as he addressed the monarch's gesture, remarking, "Very kind of you."
With a fluid wave of his hand, the sword in his possession gleamed with golden radiance, undergoing a transformation that imbued it with an aura of regality. His tone remained unassuming as he continued, "It is indeed gracious of you to seek to absolve me of my guilt. As a token of my gratitude, I shall present to you a sword, the Holy Providence. This blade shall serve as a guardian of your kingdom. Yet, I wonder if you possess the strength to wield it stably."
With these words, the sword suddenly radiated a breathtaking brilliance that ascended into the heavens, casting its luminous glow across the expanse of the firmament. Within this dazzling display, two simple yet potent words materialized amid the radiant luminescence—'Holy Providence.'
Subsequently, the gleaming effulgence and the sword commenced a swift ascent toward the royal palace of the Kingdom of Chen, akin to a resplendent shooting star streaking through the sky.
As the king, immersed in contemplation, issued instructions to Master Sun regarding the placement of the sword, he found himself in a pensive mood. The words inscribed on the cloth were a genuine reflection of his inner sentiments. While the House of the Chaotic Storms had plotted to dismantle the Kingdom of Chen, an unmistakable adversary, King Chen Xuantian harbored no intense animosity toward them. He recognized the strategic intentions behind their choice of targets and understood that, in the grand tapestry of history, their actions had inadvertently contributed to the world's development in a positive manner. Such wisdom and foresight could hardly invoke disdain from any wise ruler.
The moment the House of the Chaotic Storms proclaimed their departure in such a grand manner, their restraining influence was effectively relinquished, allowing for a potential surge in egoistic rule among monarchs, which gave rise to the king's deep-seated concerns. His experience as the ruler of a prominent kingdom had endowed him with a profound understanding of the intricate nuances involved.
Hence, King Chen Xuantian's apprehension was palpable, and he struggled to find solace in the wake of these profound changes. The weight of impending uncertainty bore heavily upon him.
Suddenly, the tranquil sky was illuminated by a cascade of white radiance, a luminous stream that streaked toward the king. The collective gaze of countless onlookers followed the brilliant trajectory, until the brilliant light penetrated the inner sanctum of the king.
Within his very study!
The impact of the sword's imminent arrival could have been calamitous, enough to cleave through the royal chambers. Yet, as the white radiance transitioned into silence, it displayed the remarkable ability to land with the precision of a needle into a haystack.
King Chen Xuantian was left in stunned disbelief. Rushing into the room, he discovered the sword had been returned to its rightful place, secure within its scabbard.
This astounding occurrence was but the prelude to an even more astonishing revelation. The king, taking the hilt of the sword in hand, unsheathed it with a single, resonant note—clang!
The blade was only partially drawn, yet it already emitted an ethereal aura that saturated the room, as if the universe itself had been encapsulated within the very confines of this noble weapon.