Chapter Forty-Four: The Ancestral God of the Royal Court

A shadow wrapped in bloody resentment stood at the heart of the city, ceaselessly absorbing the flow of fortune. It resembled the totems of the past, but its scale was immeasurably greater.

“It’s already reached the fourth tier,” Chen Ming observed the faint shadow, sensing a subtle feeling of crisis emanating from his divine core. Such was his thought. As if responding to some invisible call, a thread of slaughter divinity suddenly shone brightly within him, yearning and expectant.

“This is Roya. From here, if we continue southward, we’ll enter the domain of the southern city-states,” Elena said, standing beside Chen Ming and gazing at him.

Compared to before, she had changed considerably. Though her appearance remained the same, a new aura surrounded her—natural and pure, gentle rather than dazzling, yet soothing in its presence.

Chen Ming smiled at her and spoke softly, “Now that we’re here, it seems we must part ways.”

“Yes,” Elena nodded, her expression distant as she recalled the days they had shared—so many experiences that felt as though from another life.

She looked quietly at Chen Ming, clutching a pale blue divine emblem in her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, she produced a bird-shaped family crest and handed it to him. “This is my family’s insignia, imbued with my essence. If you ever have need, you can seek me out in the Imperial Capital.”

Chen Ming took the crest with a gentle smile, their eyes meeting in a wordless understanding that quietly blossomed between them.

He looked at Elena and asked, smiling, “Where is the Imperial Capital?”

The girl seemed surprised, but, seeing his priestly demeanor and considering his age, realization dawned.

“The Imperial Capital is the heart of the city-states. There, the imperial court resides. The court is the seat of sovereignty for all city-states in this world. The Imperial Capital itself is the strongest city-state, famed for the presence of a deity.”

“A deity?” Chen Ming was taken aback.

Elena nodded. “Indeed, a deity. In this world, every tribe and city-state has its own priesthood, each venerating different gods—most often ancestors who became ancestral spirits after death.”

“Yet, in our view, though all ancestral spirits are proclaimed as gods, only the Imperial Ancestral God, Chrisia, truly merits the title. And now, of course, there is also the God of Nature,” she added, holding the pale blue emblem with a smile.

“The Imperial Ancestral God, Chrisia?” Chen Ming was intrigued.

Elena nodded and continued, “Legend has it that, long ago, the world was not as it is now. The realms were harmonious, lords governed their lands dutifully, and people lived in happiness. There were no forbidden zones, no monstrous beasts prowling the wilds, nor ghosts haunting the nights.”

“But then disaster struck. The sun was shrouded, the world plunged into darkness, and calamities became frequent. After a black magical rain, both people and beasts were corrupted, and terrifying monsters and demonfolk appeared, tearing the land apart.”

“Disaster endured. The lords retreated to the last remaining cities, mounting a final resistance. This persisted until the birth of Chrisia. When Chrisia came of age, his extraordinary talent shone. Under his leadership, countless people fought back against the monsters. With each slain calamity beast, Chrisia grew stronger. Ultimately, he drove out the monsters and founded a mighty empire, becoming its ancestral god upon his death.”

Elena’s face now carried a hint of reverence. Clearly, she knew these tales well, and the more she understood, the more she realized how difficult such feats must have been—requiring immense power and fortune.

Yet, as Chen Ming listened, he felt a strange sense of déjà vu, as if hearing the story of a novel’s protagonist. As the tale unfolded, a fragmentary star above his head flickered violently. Within him, an ancient divine core thrummed, and a premonition swept over his mind, startling him.

“Yes, when calamity strikes, heroes arise—not just from circumstance, but endowed with the world’s fortune,” he suddenly understood, gazing up at the fragment above him. He seemed to sense a mighty current of the world surging, calling to him, drawing him in, though his vision was veiled and unclear.

He sneered inwardly, and his ancient divine core surged, radiating a sacred light that pierced the surrounding fog. Instantly, his consciousness seemed to flow with the currents of fate, revealing a vision.

He saw the southern lands, where streams of fortune churned beneath the surface, fragments of starlight appearing amidst them. At the center, a vast current of fortune bore a star-like shard, immense and quietly spinning in the sky, ceaselessly drawing the world’s essence. If Chen Ming’s shard was but one percent of a whole star, this one was nearly thirty percent, suffused with overwhelming world force and streaked with golden light of virtue.

The next moment, a backlash swept over him, and Chen Ming snorted, stepping back as his two divine cores surged. A great light of virtue emerged, dissolving the backlash completely.

“What’s wrong?” Elena asked, puzzled by Chen Ming’s reaction.

Chen Ming shook his head, smiling gently at her concern. “I’m fine.”

After a pause, he looked at Elena and asked, “Elena, what do you plan to do when you return?”

“Spread the faith, of course,” Elena answered with a mysterious smile, gazing at Chen Ming’s face and sighing. “I’ve heard that if a priest spreads the faith diligently, even without sufficient devotion, they can advance rapidly.”

“My family has some influence in the Imperial Capital. We may not be powerful, but we can offer certain advantages for preaching.”

She glanced at the guards behind her. On their journey, she had converted them into followers of the God of Nature, and sensed her divine power growing—far more than relying on herself alone.

This was a rule established by Chen Ming: anyone spreading his teachings and converting others would receive a portion of the faith power those followers offered him. Though not much, with enough converts, even a false believer could be strengthened to near the level of a saint. It was another path for capable followers, motivating them so their talents were not wasted. Thanks to this, Chen Ming now had so many devotees.

“It’s getting late. Let us part ways here,” Chen Ming said with a smile.

Elena paused, looking at him for a long moment.

“By the way, I still don’t know your name,” she said after a while, smiling at him.

Chen Ming was surprised, lowering his head in thought before replying softly, “Call me Arthur.”

He smiled gently, his expression serene.

Elena said nothing more; she simply took up her divine emblem, bestowed a blessing upon Chen Ming, and departed with her group.

The carriages rolled away, fading into the distance. Watching them go, Chen Ming turned to Mulis and the others and said, “Let’s be on our way, too.”

He gazed at the distant city, quietly lifting his head.

Ahead, the force of destiny was silently guiding him, as if responding to some unseen summons.