Chapter 231: Chapter 230: Virtues of the Chosen One

The Card of Destiny slipped out of Iris’s hand. It drifted to the cold, smooth floor before it disintegrated into a faint purple radiance. A warm breeze, coursing between countless candles amidst rows of empty pews, scattered the card’s remains throughout the massive cathedral.

A gush of wind caressed Iris’s hair. She stared at the middle of Cathedral of Deliverance.

In front of the statue of the Goddess of Seven Virtues, the Saintess of Pure Mind knelt on a rose-coloured carpet. The tails of her deep purple dress flowed around her like a river of glitters, the glitters originating from illusory stars floating inside her robe.

She lowered her head and drew her hands, which formed a prayer gesture, to her chest, her forehead touching her thumbs. A temperate gale emanated from her dress. It rustled candlelight, whistling when passing by the exquisite pews, and swayed gently chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

As the gale reached Iris, she took a deep breath. An indescribable fragrance stayed with her. Her panic and anxiety and dread dissipated, turned into a calm sensation which gave rise to total clarity.

She was now in Cathedral of Deliverance, standing before the Saintess of Pure Mind.

Shadow Heart Core within her body quivered. A muffled whisper lingered around her, but she couldn’t decipher its meaning.

The Saintess ended her prayer with a restful sigh. All sounds subsided until they returned to silence.

Shadow Heart Core no longer quivered.

The Saintess elegantly rose on her feet and took off her hood. Her flowing brown hair swirled like the sea of unending motion, graceful yet momentous. She turned to Iris, her golden eyes twinkling. Her indifference melted into a friendly smile that she only gave to those whom she trusted.

“My gratitude to you, Iris,” The Saintess said. “You’ve done what I couldn’t; you liberated those harmed by our selfishness. Your heart’s indeed virtuous.”

“Your Holiness, I killed my former kinds, threatened their livelihoods, stole from the innocent, and bewitched the naïve. Do you still think my heart virtuous?”

Iris looked at her chest and dispelled her human disguise. Her bouncy, slimy membrane shivered, but her Shadow Heart Core refused to react. Only the Faith within her soul glistened, danced, and hummed an inaudible chant heard only by her.

Her instinct should’ve screamed at her. Her mystical intuition should’ve forced her to channel her Corruption Power into Delicate Snow’s napkin, into her realm of consciousness, into her Shadow Heart Core, yet not silver of those desires manifested.

She couldn’t even think of escaping. She must face this moment with her mind naked, her soul bare.

“Beneath your evil façade is your righteous soul,” the Saintess said. “You terrified those two to spark their feelings. You acted cold and ruthless to reduce the casualty. And you spared all you could under the pretence of interrogation.”

“You’ve been . . . watching?”

“You’re the Chosen One, Iris. I, who’ve pledged my soul upon the glory of The Goddess, will watch over you until that faithful day.”

Iris chuckled and met The Saintess’s gaze. “What if I reject that Destiny?”

“Why would you?” The Saintess walked towards Iris. “This is my promise to you, Iris. I, Arianne, Saintess of Pure Mind, shall faithfully protect you, Iris, The Lady’s Chosen One, and those whom you hold dear.”

Arianne’s voice echoed throughout Cathedral of Deliverance. Dim lanterns rocked, their metallic chains creaking in harmony with the chant, the promise unbreakable.

A heavenly melody played. The invisible weight atop Iris crumbled into pieces, glowing, radiating away as fireflies of a starless night. She, her weak, anxious self, finally could rest; her family, her lovers, her friends, all those she dragged into this cruel game, she found a place for them.

She only needed to accept the offer.

“Your Holiness, am I that predictable?” Iris said.

“You have principles, ones that I admire.” Arianne grasped Iris’s hands and drew them to her chest. “No matter how many times I told you not to call me so formally, you’d still do it. No matter how many times the world forces you to choose, you’ll still choose your friends.”

“Quite a cliché I am.”

“Your tendency to undervalue yourself, to smile in despair, to hide your emotions, and to suffer in silence, they constitute you who you are. And they also assure me.”

“Please allow me to ask a question: Have you ever loved, Your Holiness?”

Arianne stared into Iris’s clear golden eyes, which shone like the north star who led the lost travellers home. She carefully separated her hands from Iris’s.

“My will and existence belong to The Lady. She’s given me hope and love, and I reciprocate her with devotion.”

Iris shook her head. “Admiration, devotion, faith, they are different from love. Have you, since the day hope filled your heart, ever entrusted it to someone else?”

Arianne turned around to look at The Goddess’s statue. The Lady was the only one who could have her heart, but such a feeling wasn’t love.

She sighed. “I . . . have never been embraced by eros. I gave my heart to The Lady, and it seems there exists no place for others.”

Iris meekly smiled. Her eyes became clouded, mists of emotions churning within. Her swirl of regret surged, followed by a pouring rain of disappointment, before it gave way to a dull, churning mist of acceptance.

“Then, Your Holiness, you should know my answer,” Iris said.

“You . . . do everything for your belief, same as me. I . . . believe in others, you yourself.” Arianne turned to Iris and reached for her. “Your sentiment mirrors mine, although I cannot accompany you to your dream.”

“Our goals differ, our lives distinct.”

Arianne whispered a poem. It detailed the life of a knight, who, through her perseverance and sacrifice, fought through the army of misery and emerged as the ray of blazing hope.

The lovely tone soothed Iris, whose fatigue had threatened to pull her into a long, quiet slumber. A foreign power, unstoppable and immutable, coursed through her sticky, softening slime.

Her Shadow Heart Core greedily absorbed it, and the Faith within her tired soul brightened.

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“Are you . . . not upset?” Iris said. “You helped me through the worst of days, yet I failed to repay you.”

“What I did was right. What I did was kind. Would you, Iris, be hoping for a reward when you step in front of your family and receive the arrow of adversaries?”

“I’ve disrespected you, Your Holiness.”

“I’ve disrespected you too, Iris.”

Iris wished to refute, but none of her words could persuade Arianne. They both presumed each other’s choices and principles. They, tainted by their values, viewed others through the lens of their own.

Arianne drew back her hands. Her fingertips caressed Iris’s neck. The long sleeves of her nightly robe fluttered. The stars shimmering within it beamed a pure, warm light. It flowed out of the fabric, onto Iris, and rested at the side of her neck.

Iris touched her neck. She couldn’t feel anything but still knew that there existed a star-shaped mark. It produced a stream of Holy Power, which her Faith absorbed, which combated against the conflicting powers and curses within her body.

“Although the offer falls through, I still wish to protect you,” Arianne said. “The Insignia of Mindful Star will shield you once from the power of the transcendent. Use it well, Iris.”

“Thank you . . . Lady Arianne.”

“You finally call me by my name.”

Arianne turned to the divine statue and walked to it. She closed her eyes, lifted her head, and then her body trembled. Her mystical robe shone, excited for the arrival of its eternal master.

As her face flushed, Arianne fell to her knees.

“Iris, today you shall witness the divine grace,” she said. “I hope you can experience what I once did. I hope . . . you accept the second chance.”

“Are you . . . going to force me?”

“Such an action would break my heart before it breaks yours. The Lady only wishes to ascertain your conviction. No matter what happens, no matter the outcome, no harm shall befall you.”

In front of the divine statue, above the kneeling Arianne, at the centre of Cathedral of Deliverance, the fabric of reality unravelled, revealing a pleasant, quietly revolving rift. Its cloud-like quality softened the solemn atmosphere, yet its majesty remained unobstructed, permeating the entirety of the cathedral.

The Saintess of Pure Mind bowed, her forehead almost touching the rosy carpet. Her flashing robe expanded around her, forming a sea of stars beneath her feet.

Her Domains of Peace, Honour, and Temperance lit up. Countless symbols containing the truth of the world rose from the stone floor, forming myriad sentences, each depicting myriad fairytales. They sealed the cathedral’s gate, shut its windows, and enveloped all cracks.

The divine descension would subsume Donhalgen without the delicacy of The Goddess and the restraint of her beloved Saintess.

Bright piercing light cast itself on Iris. She instinctively closed her eyes and backed away, but her body remained frozen. Her soul, separated from her mortal shell, raised her hands to cover her face.

Her spiritual body, in form of her past self, looked up. Her angelic sapphire eyes glimmered against the light, its brightness no longer blinding. She stared at the vortex and peered deep into the world where no living mortal could intrude.

Blurriness filled with white feathers and fluffy clouds appeared in her view. Silhouettes of Angels and Spirits flickered in and out of her perceptions, though she paid little attention to them.

Only the vivid, unforgettable, incorruptible lady remained a constant.

Iris squinted her eyes; her heart palpitated, her mind trembled, and her soul shrieked. All thoughts in her head vanished, replaced by numbing chants and poems praising the Ancient Goddess of Seven Virtues, the Godmother of First Hope, the Lady of Celestial Judgement.

Despite laying her eyes upon the eternal grace, Iris failed to behold The Goddess’s features. The world itself forbade mortals from glimpsing at the beauty inconceivable.

No. Iris simply couldn’t process The Goddess’s splendour.

As her heart gave up, she fell to her knees. Her mind, her soul, melted into a pool of random thoughts before the combined Domains of the Saintess reawakened her senses. She then shattered once more, and the Domains again reformed her.

Over and over and over and over . . .

The Goddess drew her right hand forward. The world quietened. The Domains ceased their functions, and the dominating presence cut itself short.

All hymning chants and poems disappeared.

Iris raised her head and, despite her violently trembling body, fixed her gaze on The Goddess. Flames burst out of her eyes and devoured her perceptions, creating agonising pain all over her soul, yet she persisted.

She must at least see what all-encompassing force she was facing.

The Saintess of Pure Mind stayed still in her place, but her complexion paled. She wished to beseech her goddess to forgive Iris, but she decided against it. The Goddess was all-knowing. She must have her reason for testing her Chosen One.

As tears, made of Iris’s life force, streamed down her face, the impossible figure in her cloudy vision gradually cleared.

The lanterns and curtains carefully swayed so as not to produce any sound. The stars and candlelight dimmed so as not to detract from this historical moment.

Long, flowing golden hair drifted in the air, playing with the snow-like clouds. Truthful golden eyes remained unblinking. There were infinite golden lines layering in the pupils, forming an endless maze of future and past occurrences.

The Goddess saw all, truth and false, real and illusory, past and future.

And Iris saw The Goddess herself.

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