Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

Chapter 506 - 145 The Prophet’s Admonition

In the center of Silver Moon City, a bustling crowd gathered en masse.

On both sides of the street, ever-burning magic lamps illuminated the night, revealing an endless stream of people to the eye. Nearly half of the city’s residents had left their homes today to bid farewell to the last of the ’City Founders’ from that year.

After all, apart from Nuo, those who had escaped the great flood with him had long since passed away. Among them, some had achieved minor feats on extraordinary paths, but there were no truly gifted individuals. Thus, under the weight of centuries, they too had naturally been laid to rest in the earth, living on only in people’s memories.

Following a tradition said to descend from the Golden Age, the residents of Silver Moon City erected a stele for each deceased, engraving upon it some tales from their lives. They were uniformly buried near Starfall Lake, where they built a temple dedicated to the three Angels of Death.

This was how people commemorated the presence of their ancestors; after all, every person in Silver Moon City today descended from them. And today, it was the turn of their very last member.

An era was about to end, and from now on, the city would turn a new page. Connios, just an ordinary member of the city, glanced at the crowded throngs and couldn’t help but smirk.

Tens of thousands, perhaps even over a hundred thousand people—forgive him for not understanding arithmetic, for in this age, even the wizards scarcely did.

Experience, tradition, and flashes of inspiration were the mainstay now, with calculation merely a supplementary tool. Besides, even if he understood, Connios doubted he could gauge the exact number of people present with his eyes alone.

The Temple’s priests often said that only faith in God could fortify the will and remain unharmed against the mental onslaught of the ’Curse Attribute.’ However, Connios knew it wasn’t entirely true. Perhaps faith was indeed beneficial, but honing swordsmanship and the physique could also temper the spirit. Compared with the elusive piety, he favored things tangible and visible.

Of course, that didn’t mean he was faithless. There were hardly any non-believers among the residents of Silver Moon City, regardless of who they were.

"Deo, who do you think will assume the role of the next Patriarch after the Great Prophet’s death?"

"This matter has dragged on for a long time now, and there should be a conclusion," Connios said, protecting the girl who seemed somewhat attractive to him, pushing forward as he spoke casually.

Compared to him, Deo was a model believer. She not only recited the scriptures fluently but also always paid attention to the significant figures who normally had nothing to do with them. Over time, she had made him familiar with plenty.

This was unusual in Silver Moon City—in fact, even in human societies of later generations, the number of citizens who could call out more than ten names and positions of their country’s leaders was not in the majority, even more so in this classical age.

"I know what you’re thinking, Connios," Deo said, glancing at the man in front of her while stroking her brown hair. She saw right through his thoughts, but she didn’t think his plans would come to fruition.

"Lord Damian has always advocated for expansion, for Silver Moon City to claim vaster territories. If he becomes the next Patriarch, he will certainly increase the quota for Temple Guard recruits. But taking shortcuts is meaningless. If you make it through the selection that way, even if you succeed, you will only be at the bottom."