A month later.
Grave City, now known as the hottest spot within the Ignatian Empire, had transformed dramatically.
Once a bustling hub for ordinary citizens, it was now the destination for awakened professionals, each seeking opportunities and also chances upon the path of the new divinity, the divinity of the sun that was devised by the human race.
As for the mortals, the air in this area is no longer suitable for them to live. Forcing the Empire to relocate millions of people elsewhere to secure their safety.
The air within this place is too dense and filled with high-purity energy, the essence of the path of sun divinity. If a mere mortal were to inhale this air for even a day, their lungs would slowly fall apart as their body would crumble under the fiery flame of the energy.
As such, this place is now a dead zone for mortals, but heaven for awakened professionals who want to follow the new path of the sun Divinity.
There isn't a harsh requirement to start and embark upon this path, all it took is for these awakened people to absorb the lingering essence of the battle, and integrate them into their body, and mind, picturing a whole new vessel and replacing the old one.
A human Venerable path...
The streets were lined with mages, warriors, and others, each on their unique journey.
On one side of the main street, pairs of mages walked with purpose.
Their cloaks varied from oversized, flowing garments to more fitted robes that clung to their forms, especially for the women, who flaunted their proud figures in skin-tight outfits.
On the other side, warriors strode with heavy steps, clad in everything from simple leather armor to full, gleaming plate mail.
Shields were strapped to their backs and swords of varying lengths hung at their sides. These were no ordinary people, they were professionals on the path of divinity.
The paths they followed were numerous, some well-trodden, newly created, or even incomplete due to the one who created it dying.
The creation of a new path was a rare and monumental feat, reserved for those favored by the heavens, destined to reach realms beyond comprehension—the realm of taboo or so to be exact, a slight chance of attaining that realm.
One such path was the Path of the Sun Divinity, which had just been revealed this year under the sudden battle against the force of intruders. The much more detailed information was kept to the higher up only, but the general overview was still there.
Like a pebble being thrown into a still water lake, the surface rippled and surged, causing a tsunami of reactions and also yearning from all of the human race in this world.
It was a path that drew countless awakened to Grave City, all eager to tread where the venerable had walked. How can this news not excite the masses?
For many years, there had been few paths that were created by the human race that could reach the realm of the venerable and beyond. This list excludes those of the vague one such as the path of the light divine, under the church of light, the divine called Almeria.
After all, even a fool would notice such a vague path, no record of this divine, suddenly emerging among the many human empires by claiming to be a human divine. Many didn't believe but the path was evident, as such many had embarked upon this path.
Given the risk, it was worth trying. Amidst this sea of professionals was Illira, the fifth princess of the Ignaria Empire.
Her green cloak fluttered around her as she walked, but her reddish hair, peeking out from beneath the hood, was a giveaway to those who recognized her.
Like a fiery flame in the middle of the ocean during the night, her presence warded off the area as if the sea was separated on all sides.
"Child, are you sure you want to abandon the path your mother painstakingly secured for you?" The voice belonged to an old woman, hunched over as she walked with the aid of a wooden stick that came from the side.
Despite her frail appearance, something was striking about her—an aura of strength that belied her age. Her eyes half squinted as if on alert all the time, and deep within, a vision could be seen. A vision of an earthquake, that could shatter the land into pieces.
She was Calin the Earth, the second pillar of the empire, the fifth princess's nursing mother, and the current holder of the magic tower in the capital city.
Calin's appearance was unassuming, her gray hair tied back in a simple bun, her face lined with age, and her clothes worn and practical. But there was no doubt about her strength, the King of the land, or in her case, the queen of the earth.
Illira, her attention half-absorbed by the bustling market around her, responded absentmindedly, her eyes darting from stall to stall.
"It's okay, Grandma. This new path has a higher limit than the one my mother bought for me. After all, the one who set the limit on this path is still alive—and she's human."
"the path that the woman gave me was a non-human path, though I wonder... " Illira stopped in her tracks, her gaze momentarily leaving the side, as it trailed off towards the sky, seemingly to ask the world itself.
"Why won't she let me tread on the path she created? Is it because of her selfishness?"
And to this, Calin could only shake her head with a sigh escaping her old wrinkled lips, her half-squinted eyes tried her best to crescent fully, though it eclipsed in the next second.
"You know child, there are reasons for her to do so... " "And I don't need to hear it, mother" Illira walked forth, uninterested to hear the so-called reasons that Calin might have to back that woman's side.
The allure of following the path of a human who had reached the level of a venerable was too great to resist.
"And besides," Illira continued, "I'm only a Tier 2 on that old path. It won't take long to regain my realm after switching to this one, given the resources I have at my disposal"
She indifferently responded as she bent down to inspect the items laid out by a merchant on the street.
The wares, displayed on a simple piece of cloth, ranged from shimmering stones to intricately carved trinkets. The merchant, grinning widely, welcomed her with a warm smile.
"Grandma, you don't need to switch paths. Who knows how long it would take you to regain your realm?" Illira stated, her plain tone causing Calin to shake her head in exasperation.
"How did the baby I breastfed turn into this?" Calin muttered, half-amused, half-annoyed. "So rude to her milk mother."
Illira simply glanced from the corner of her eyes at this statement and her gaze drifted downwards yet again as something had caught her sight, standing up with a small trinket in her hand, examining it under the morning sun.
"I wish... I could be the daughter that you are proud of, really" She whispered to herself, or more to her inner self. 'Really... what does it take to be alive?'
The vibrant marketplace, filled with the chatter of professionals and the calls of merchants, seemed to pulse with life, yet the weight of their conversation lingered lightly.
And elsewhere.
High atop the watchtower in Grave City, the scene was serene yet filled with an undercurrent of schemes and deceits.
The watchtower, constructed of dark stone and intricate carvings, stood as a sentinel overlooking the transformed city. The city's bell swung ever so slightly under a certain rhythm, as the clouds churned and vacated apart ever so slowly under their own pace.
The rooftop, where two figures now stood, was open to the vast sky, offering an unparalleled view of the city's bustling streets and the gaping abyss that loomed on the horizon.
Elara—her name resonates with the force of a newly ascended venerable—sat casually on the ledge of the tower, her legs dangling over the edge playfully with her hair cascading behind, fluttering in the morning wind. The once arrogant demeanor and the prideful gaze were now replaced with a tinge of playfulness evident in her eyes.
Her gaze was fixed on the city below, a subtle smile playing on her lips as she admired the destruction and the subsequent rebirth of the city that had become her greatest creation.
She seemed at peace as if the chaos she had wrought was merely an artist's stroke on the canvas of the world.
Beside her, slightly leaning against one of the stone pillars that supported the rooftop, stood the Dark Knight, the very same warrior who had clashed fiercely with Baelor.
His massive, armored form contrasted sharply with the delicate architecture of the tower. Though it seemed to be delicate and well-balanced.
Arms crossed over his chest, he too gazed out at the horizon, the tension of battle long gone, replaced by a quiet appreciation for the moment.
Despite their past roles as adversaries, there was no animosity between them now—only a shared silence.
Odd, no?
What's happening really? How interesting...
*Shuaa.*
The air shimmered, and a new figure appeared between them.
He wore the attire of a gentleman, a crisp black suit with a tailcoat, polished shoes, and a black top hat perched perfectly on his head.
His demeanor was one of effortless grace, a gentle smile on his face that could disarm even the most vigilant.
"Oooo, Mize. You are late"
Mize walked forward, each step light and deliberate until he reached the edge of the rooftop.
He peered out at the city with a look of genuine admiration, his eyes reflecting the vast abyss and the vibrant city that now thrived on its edge.
"What a beautiful performance it was..." Mize applauded softly, his words sincere to the event that had taken place here before.
Despite his praise, the other two remained in their positions—Elara with her eyes still on the city, and the Dark Knight unmoved from his stance.
They showed no surprise or concern, no hatred nor killing intent. Just a simple silence between them.
"This split consciousness..." Elara finally spoke, her voice tinged with a faint discomfort.
She reached up, touching her face as if adjusting to the sensation of being in this form. "It's hard to get used to. And converting this much energy to this realm... it's the limit of what I can push for now. An illusory casket tied with ribbon"
"No hurry," Mize responded, his smile warm as he turned away from the cityscape.
He tapped his walking stick lightly on the ceramic rooftop, a rhythmic sound that echoed faintly in the cool air. "Our bodies are like cups. No matter how much we can absorb, we must still respect the limits of how much we can hold."
"And to improve it? You have any idea?" the Dark Knight asked, his voice deep and measured.
He pushed off from the pillar and took a few steps forward, his armored boots thudding on the stone.
His desire for power was palpable, an ambition that drove him relentlessly.
"Ahhh, another downside of having a split consciousness. They all have their own goals now, how inconvenience..." Mize's eyes turned sharp for a split second and then, it disappeared.
With a smile, his eyes twinkled as he looked past the city as if focusing on something or someone far beyond the horizon. "In this world, the way of divinity is a fascinating concept. It's about imagining a space within your mind—a space of illusion.
As you reach the maximum capacity for each realm, this space sublimates, like an inflated balloon, increasing the limit of what you can bear"
"So, you intend to use this method? Is it just a theory, or—?" Elara began, her curiosity piqued.
Mize cut her off with a gentle but firm tone, "It's a successful theory. Unlike you two, I have a body... a living body. A body that can bear and withstand. A body that lives and dies, a body that breathes and exhales" he added, his words trailing off into a soft chuckle.
His gaze returned to the distant horizon, his thoughts momentarily elsewhere.
The implication was clear: while Elara and the Dark Knight, as powerful as they were, operated with limitations tied to their forms, energy equipping with split consciousness. Like a ghost... The true nature.
Mize held an advantage—his living, breathing body holds many mysteries that are to be explored. Like a pandora box, ready to be uncovered and unleashed upon the world.
"Then to find a vessel..." the Dark Knight added, his voice laced with a restrained eagerness as his fist clenched involuntarily.
The longing for power simmered beneath his composed exterior, an undercurrent that he struggled to keep hidden.
Mize's playful demeanor contrasted sharply with the Dark Knight's intensity.
He tapped his walking stick lightly against the rooftop, the sound a stark counterpoint to the heavy silence that had settled over them.
His eyes were distant, deep in thought, as he continued, "That won't be easy." His tone was thoughtful, almost musing as if he were speaking more to himself than to the others.
"This body of mine," Mize continued, his voice adopting a lower tone, "is a prime example of a suitable vessel. For the past month, I've been investigating what sets this body apart from the rest... Unfortunately, I've uncovered no definitive clues. Except for one thing..."
"Except for what?" Elara interrupted, standing up from her perch on the ledge.
The sunlight caught her hair, making it gleam like molten gold as it fluttered in the breeze. Her curiosity was piqued, the question hanging in the air between them.
"This body has experienced... something profound. It carries the weight of deep trauma. Some kind of intense emotional damage—love, heartbreak, sadness. Something that leaves a mark on the soul," Mize explained, his voice calm but laced with intrigue.
"Huh?" Elara's eyes narrowed, her skepticism evident.
*Boom!*
The Dark Knight's frustration erupted like a thunderclap. He took a step forward, his armored boot crashing down onto the ceramic tiles of the rooftop with such force that they shattered beneath him, leaving a small crater in his wake.
The impact sent shockwaves through the surrounding area, startling the people below.
They looked up, alarmed and confused, trying to discern the source of the disturbance.
"What a bunch of rubbish..." the Dark Knight growled, his voice tinged with anger. He glared at Mize, his irritation palpable. "Is that your so-called clue? That's not helpful at all!"
Mize, unperturbed by the Dark Knight's outburst, continued in his calm, almost leisurely manner. "Now, now, no need to get mad. Just listen first."
Elara, still gazing down at the streets below, noticed the growing confusion among the citizens.
The sudden noise had caused a ripple of unrest, disrupting the usual flow of activity.
Her interest waned as the novelty of the scene below faded.
From this chapter onward, it will be slow. A lot more plot lining up is needed, explanation, and also some schemes that are needed to portray the future scene. Bear with it... I still have 100k words in store and the stock is increasing. Though the update schedule is quite varied, which heavily depends on my schedule. "I am a student still"