Chapter 1279: The Icon Hall
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
The sacred light of Taros had not only affected the Sunscorch Tower of the earthly kingdoms, but its light also penetrated the vortex of Chaos in the center of Collow, and appeared in the eyes of the Sanctumese.
Over the past few days, a depressing atmosphere had been filling Sanctum. The continuous weakening of the Asurmen’s light was approaching the tipping point. The shield of Order covering the floating continent had become so thin that it was almost invisible to the naked eyes now. The dark power of Chaos was surging outside the barrier as if a sea hanging overhead ready to inundate the entire continent. Everyone in Sanctum was depressed as frustration and despair were drowning the spirit of this once glorious and proud race.
Earlier, there was a sudden burst of light on the other continent, just across the void. The light tore apart space and time as if it had divided the sky in two, illuminating the space outside the barrier. The phenomenon had not only shocked everyone but given them an unexplainable hope.
In the eyes of the Sanctumese, the believers of the goddess of creation, this light was almost a miracle that signaled the end of the dark moments. The light gradually dissipated after ten minutes, but it had inspired many people on this part of the world.
Most of these people were ordinary people. The ruling class was not optimistic.
Pope Auguste VII summoned all the cardinals and inner court scholars to the white hall of the Bascilia Icon. Under the eternal glory of the white chamber, Collow’s wisest and most authoritative theologians and scholars discussed the influence of the light that flashed in the sky earlier. Auguste VII sat on the high throne of the pope, listening to the report of one of the cardinals.
“Your Holiness, we have determined that the light comes from the continent of Ansu, but we are unsure of its specific location. As the fog of Chaos envelopes the trajectory of each continent, we can’t physically see the other continents. But we could approximate the current position of other continents using the world model. But as the Chaos becomes more and more rampant, the accuracy of this position calculation is also decreasing.”
A group of exquisite models carved out of magic gems was floating around the speaking cardinal. The gemstone models reconstructed the details of the five floating continents and a dozen larger floating islands in Collow with fantastic craftsmanship. The models moved slowly in the air, approximating the location of each land in the Sea of Carnos based on some ancient data.
But the accuracy of this model was not high due to the influence of the tide of Chaos.
“Ansu mainland… good,” Auguste VII mumbled as he massaged his forehead. “It confirmed Asurmen’s revelation. A miracle of the goddess of creation has appeared on that continent.”
“The light column has caused a stir among the civilians and the lower-ranking priests.” Another cardinal stood up. “The good news is that our morale is recovering. We have released the narrative of the light column, and now it becomes an inspiring miracle. But the bad news is: after the light column disappeared, everything returned to normal. The light of Asurmen is still weakening, and the shroud overhead is still as fragile as ever. The effect of this miracle would fade with time, and I’m afraid if no new miracles are happening.”
“The light was only a sign that the goddess sent us from the divine realm to tell us to persevere in this dark age. In response, we should fight even in the darkness,” Auguste VII said slowly. “Sanctumese would not give up hope, never.”
Another cardinal stood up. “The power output of Mount Asurmen has dropped by 1% again. Its deceleration rate has stabilized, and there will be no more sudden fluctuations. But if the trend is anything to go by, we will completely lose the shield in half a month, tops. By then Sanctum will fall into the darkness like the secular world. We will fight on this sacred land, and the blood of Chaos will tarnish the holy land.”
“So be it. We will fight, just like the earthly kingdoms,” another cardinal shouted. “If the earthly kingdoms can be brave, Sanctum would not flinch. We have built Spires of Flames and Sunscorch Towers in different parts of the mainland. Drawing the residual power of Asurmen, these towers would allow us to survive the tide of Chaos.”
“The key is in the next century. If Asurmen couldn’t recover, it would be useless even if we survive this time. We can’t leave the burden on our grandchildren. I still insist on repairing Asurmen as the top priority. I have a plan…”
The cardinals once again fell into an argument. They were debating about some immature ideas they just plucked out of thin air and then rejected them all by themselves. The discussion between the scholars and the cardinals were fierce. But each of them was a good person; they were concerned for the future of this world and the safety of Sanctum, but the wisdom of the mortals fell short of solving the ultimate problem.
Mount Asurmen.
The second half of the meeting was not constructive, prompting August VII to stop the debate. After the cardinals and scholars left the pure white hall, the pope got to his feet tiredly. Youthfulness had gone from his body, and his joints would creak whenever he moved his body. He felt that the crown on his head was so heavy that it was breaking his neck and that his robe was restraining his movement.
The servant on the side immediately stepped forward. The middle-aged man who had followed August VII for 30 years saw the weariness on the pope’s face. The servant helped the pope take off the heavy golden crown and took over the wand. “Your Holiness, are you going back to the palace to rest?”
“No,” the Pope replied, waving his hand. “Let’s go to the Icon Hall.”
The servant blinked as if the answer had surprised him. But his habit of many years still made him choke his question back and then just nodded.
The Icon Hall; from the name itself one could already deduce that there was something special about this hall. It was almost the most magnificent and sacred space in the Basilica Icon. Departing from the pure white hall, they needed to walk through three corridors, two inner courtyards, and two long halls to reach the hall entrance. The old pope was reluctant to use the convenience of magic but chose to walk an hour to come to Icon Hall.
The servant pushed the golden red door open. The pope sorted his clothes before stepping into the hall.
The hall was vast, without any furniture. Two rows of tall columns lined parallel from the entrance to the other end with bright light sprinkled from a series of circular hollows overhead. It appeared as if a layer of divine light was floating in the hall.
On both sides of the hall, huge statues, lifelike, majestic and sacred, were sitting quietly behind the two rows of columns.
Auguste VII trudged along the central axis of the hall, bathing in the gaze of the two rows of statues as if he was under the inspection of the ancient kings. In all piety and a focused mind, the pope kept walking.
It was the Icon Hall, which got its name from the sacred statues in the hall. Even the Basilica Icon got its name the same way.
No one knew who made these statues. Even the founders of the Theocracy did not mention it a bit. This hall existed long before the establishment of the Theocracy. The twenty-one icons seem to come from the era before the mortals. The entire Basilica Icon was nothing more than an architectural shell that extended out from the original Icon Hall. Many generations of Pope and secular kings had passed, but the mysterious giant statues in this Icon Hall had never changed.
If these statues were to stand up, they would have measured up to ten meters tall. But their sizes were not the most eye-catching, it was their lifelike appearance that amazed. The statues were made of stones, but they looked like real people, not statues.
The lifelikeness of these statues would send a chill up the spine of those who first came into the Icon Hall. Even Auguste VII still remembered the fear and uneasiness he felt when he first came here.
But that had all passed. Auguste VII stepped into the Icon Hall to accept the gaze of these colossus statues. It was no longer a daunting experience but a baptism of the soul and heart.
The Pope walked all the way until the end of the hall. Just when he was about to come before a statue known as the King of Kings, he suddenly stopped in tracks and looked back at the direction from where he came.
The face of the two rows of statues was just as cold as before with their eyes looking straight at the center of the hall—there was nothing unusual.
But Auguste VII had a creepy feeling.
The pope shook his head; he had not felt this feeling for many years and was surprised by why he was losing his composure.
In that particular moment, he felt that the stares were not from the glorious ancient kings but some unknown, terrifying beings. The hollow stares caused him having the illusion of falling into an abyss.
The old pope focused his mind, trying to shake the strange vision out of his mind. He then turned around and bowed before the statue of the King of Kings.
“Ancient prison officer, please show me the way…”
The low voice of the old pope echoed in front of the statue of the King of Kings.
Then the echoes suddenly came to an abrupt end.
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