Wizard: I Have a Cultivation System

Chapter 421: Chapter 88: The Bell

The main thoroughfare leading to Chenxi Hall was already packed on both sides with pilgrims, citizens, and curious travelers from across the Continent, all eager to witness a miracle. The crowd was a vast sea of people, and their clamor was deafening.

The air was heavy with the scents of incense, wax, and fresh flowers.

In the distance, from the direction of Chenxi Hall, the grand bell tower chimed its preparatory bells every fifteen minutes. The deep, resonant toll seemed capable of cleansing the soul, and each chime intensified the fervent atmosphere throughout the Holy City.

The invited dignitaries from across the Continent had long since taken their places in the designated viewing area.

It was a meticulously arranged, fan-shaped section on the north side of the massive plaza before Chenxi Hall’s main entrance, a plaza capable of holding tens of thousands. The area was slightly elevated, separated from the common faithful below by white marble balustrades carved with the deeds of the Saints.

The area was laid with deep red velvet carpets and furnished with comfortable high-backed chairs. Beside each chair was a small table set with fresh water and simple refreshments.

The front row of the viewing area was, naturally, reserved for those of the highest status.

The central position, offering the best view, was reserved for the Imperial Envoy from the Rotalia Empire.

The Emperor of the Empire did not attend in person, but the chief representative was the Imperial Chancellor. Seated behind him were several high-ranking Imperial ministers and Generals, including Ulysses, the Minister of Military Affairs, and the Third Prince, Charles.

To the left of the Imperial Envoy was the viewing area for the Vilt Kingdom.

King William IV sat upright in the center, dressed in magnificent royal robes with medals gleaming on his chest. His chin was slightly raised, his gaze fixed intently on the great hall. Beside him stood the silent, tower-like figure of Otto, the "Steel Lion."

Next to them were other important nobles from the Vilt Kingdom, including the Ironspine Duke, Hakon Perik.

The Duke’s expression was placid. His grey-blue eyes calmly observed his surroundings, betraying neither joy nor sorrow.

To the right were the envoys from the Phlanis Kingdom, as well as representatives from powers such as the Grand Duchy of Orleans, the Ernest Kingdom, the Albion Islands, the Jade City-States Alliance, and the Desert Nations Alliance.

Their attire and dispositions varied, but at this moment, their faces all bore expressions of anticipation, scrutiny, or gravity.

Murphy’s wheelchair was positioned near the front on the left side of the viewing area, within the section belonging to the Vilt Kingdom. His view was unobstructed, yet he was not at the very center.

He sat quietly, his calm gaze fixed on the towering Chenxi Hall at the far end of the plaza.

On the plaza, countless heads bobbed—a dense, dark mass, like a churning black ocean.

Low murmurs of prayer, suppressed, excited chatter, and the occasional wails of children all blended into a droning background noise.

Defender Knights and Temple Guards formed several tight security cordons, their silver armor reflecting a cold light in the morning sun.

At the very edge of the plaza near the entrance to the old city district, on the fringe of the chaotic crowd, Bellardi huddled in a ragged cloak, trying to make himself inconspicuous.

His heart pounded wildly and his palms were ice-cold. He was tightly clutching a dark stone.

The stone felt as if it were alive, pulsing with a cold, insistent urge.

’Go to the very center. Go where the crowd is thickest. Go to the shadows beneath the place where the light converges.’

Bellardi drifted forward with the crowd, his eyes fixed on the Defender Knights and Temple Guards.

Hatred boiled like venom in his veins.

’Vermin... Bloodsuckers...’ he cursed silently. Using the crowd for cover, he painstakingly squeezed his way deeper into the plaza.

The guards’ attention was mostly focused on the core ceremonial area and the nobles’ viewing section. As long as the zealous commoners on the periphery made no drastic moves, security checks were not strict.

Bellardi’s filthy appearance and cowering demeanor served as the perfect cover.

Time ticked by. As the sun climbed higher, gilding the cloud-piercing spire of Chenxi Hall with a dazzling golden edge, an incredibly deep horn blast suddenly rang out!

BLARE!

The sound of the horn was forlorn and distant, instantly silencing all the clamor in the plaza. The crowd fell quiet.

Then, as countless eyes watched, the giant gilded bronze doors of Chenxi Hall began to open. Ten meters high and inlaid with innumerable jewels and Holy Images, they swung slowly inward with a heavy, rumbling groan!

Beyond the threshold lay an endless, solemn darkness.

Groups of choirboys streamed out, walking in perfect lockstep. They were dressed in pure white linen robes and carried censers and holy scriptures.

Their faces were pure, their gazes focused. They chanted an ancient and holy processional hymn, their voices as clear and high as angels’. Accompanied by the curling, milky-white incense smoke, their song instantly elevated the plaza’s atmosphere to a near-sacred level.

Following closely behind them were the Clergy of the Church Court, representing all ranks.

From the lowest-ranking Assistant Priests and Priests to the Bishops and Archbishops in their magnificent Sacrificial Robes, they emerged in strict hierarchical order. Their expressions were solemn and their steps were steady as they walked out of the great hall. They took their places in formation on either side of a massive altar that had been erected in the center of the plaza and draped in snow-white linen.

Once all the low- and mid-ranking Clergy were in formation, the central figures began to emerge.

The first to emerge were the members of the College of Cardinals.

They were clad in deep red Cardinal robes and wore four-cornered hats. Their expressions were variously solemn, dignified, or tinged with a barely perceptible self-satisfaction.

Leading the procession was Cardinal Adrian, renowned for his mastery of canon law and diplomacy. His gaze was steady behind his monocle, and his pace was measured and unhurried.