“In the name of the God of Light?”
Li Yuan’s brow furrowed slightly. This was a phrase he was familiar with. In the royal capital of Kajinson, the temple priests often used similar opening remarks when presiding over ceremonies—but those were for public prayers or blessings, not for taking a person away.
Mokotoba nodded. He took a deep breath, gathered his thoughts, and spoke slowly.
“The City of Divine Grace holds a grand festival every year. You must have heard of it by now, right?”
“Yes, it was a coincidence. I arrived just in time for it in a few days.”
“Then do you know what must be offered at the festival?”
Li Yuan thought back to what Alan had mentioned. “I’ve looked into it a bit. It seems offerings are presented, and then the High Priest reads the divine oracles. It’s said to be even more lively than a coronation ceremony in the empire.”
“That’s only on the surface.” Mokotoba’s voice dropped. “Besides the usual offerings, the temple selects a young girl at every festival to serve as the ‘spokesperson’ for the arrival of the oracle.”
“A spokesperson?”
“The person who establishes a connection with the God of Light,” the boy explained. “On the day of the festival, the High Priest holds a ceremony on the high platform of the main hall to let that girl receive the oracle. The oracle is spoken through her mouth, and then the High Priest conveys it to the believers throughout the city.”
Li Yuan leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.
He didn’t find this practice particularly strange. On the Kyushu Continent, some cultivators with profound cultivation who wanted to descend to lower-plane worlds would often use certain individuals as a medium to briefly possess them. The possessed person would usually be weak for a while afterward, but it generally didn’t lead to any major harm.
The gods of this world were far less powerful than the cultivators of the Kyushu Continent, making it even harder for them to descend directly. Finding a suitable medium to convey their oracles was perfectly logical.
“Isn’t that normal?” Li Yuan said. “As far as I know, it’s difficult for gods to descend directly into the mortal realm. They need specific people to establish a connection and pass down their will. That shouldn't be a bad thing, right?”
Mokotoba shook his head, his expression exceptionally serious.
“Sir, I understand the situation you’re talking about. But the festival in the City of Divine Grace is completely different from what you described.”
“How so?”
“The God of Light never actually descends.”
Li Yuan’s fingers stopped instantly.
“How can you be sure the god hasn't descended?”
“Because every single festival since the City of Divine Grace was founded has been like this.” Mokotoba’s voice wasn't loud, but he spoke every word with conviction. “Every High Priest selects a girl during the festival and performs a ceremony before the altar. After the ceremony, the girl does indeed speak, and the High Priest claims those words are the oracle. However—”
He paused, his lips turning pale as if he were recalling something terrifying.
“—no divine miracles have ever occurred. No holy light, no divine might, none of the phenomena the believers imagine... There is only the High Priest standing there, explaining what the girl’s words mean.”
Li Yuan fell silent for a few moments. This was indeed strange. He had seen the temple of the God of Harvest in Kajinson hold a festival. Although that deity did not descend directly, pillars of various colored light had appeared on the altar—traces of divine power being projected that everyone present could feel.
If the God of Light truly conveyed oracles through a spokesperson, there should at least be some fluctuations of divine power. Unless...
“And,” Mokotoba continued, his voice trembling slightly, “those chosen girls always experience problems after the festival ends.”
“What kind of problems?”
“They lose part of their memories.” The boy’s hands clenched involuntarily. “Some forget the names of their family members, some forget where they live, and some don’t even know their own names anymore. At first, it’s just poor memory, and they seem to get better after a few days. But—”
He stopped, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to suppress the fear in his heart.
“—within the last century or so, girls have started dying suddenly just a few days after the festival. Without any warning... they just die in an instant.”
Li Yuan’s expression turned several degrees more serious.
This was indeed vastly different from the version of “divine descent” he knew.
Whether it was the possession techniques of the Kyushu Continent or the divine descents of this world, while they placed a certain burden on the medium, the medium’s life was guaranteed as long as the ceremony followed the proper rules.
But the situation Mokotoba described sounded more like a crude spiritual invasion—a forced possession that ignored all rules and disregarded the life of the medium.
“Your sister was taken three months ago. Then she is currently—”
“She’s still alive,” Mokotoba interrupted quickly, though his voice immediately dropped again. “At least, she was fine when they took her. I was actually quite happy at the time, thinking it was a great honor for my sister to be chosen. My family has been believers in the God of Light since we were children; being able to serve the deity is a blessing earned over several lifetimes.”
The corner of his mouth twisted into a bitter arc.
“Later, I waited at the temple entrance for days, hoping to see my sister. But they wouldn’t let me. Then I met others who had come looking for the temple. Their relatives had also been chosen as spokespeople and then... they died. They came to the temple to demand an explanation—but they were all driven away.”
“Driven away?”
“Yes. Some were directly chased off by the temple guards, some were warned never to return, and some were even exiled from the city.” Mokotoba’s tone carried a suppressed rage.
“I didn’t believe them at first. I thought they might be slandering the temple. But one after another, they all said the same thing. I had no choice but to believe. Some of them had come to the temple several times, and every time the result was the same.”
He looked up at Li Yuan, his eyes bloodshot.
“Today was my sixth time going to the temple, and I’ve been kicked out every single time. Today I just couldn’t hold it back anymore, so I shouted something like ‘The God of Light is lying,’ and I was almost arrested for desecration. Luckily I ran fast, or I might be sitting in a dungeon right now.”
At this point, he shivered and subconsciously touched the back of his neck, as if only just realizing the danger he had nearly faced.
Li Yuan remained silent for a while.
His previous investigation of the temple hadn't uncovered any issues, but the situation Mokotoba described was highly unusual. If what he said was true, there was definitely something wrong with the temple.
If the deaths of these girls were isolated incidents, they might be coincidences. But if it was a systematic occurrence—starting from the city’s founding and continuing for centuries—then “coincidence” was no longer enough to explain it.
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