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Translator: CinderTL
Roland paused slightly at Lothander's question.
Holy son?
Receive a blessing?
To receive a direct blessing from a deity would undoubtedly grant an unimaginable leap in strength...
The temptation was almost irresistible.
His mind raced, weighing the possibilities, but he firmly shook his head.
"No, Gloria is the true saintess of the Blazing Sun Church, the rightful focus of this ritual."
"Compared to me, she needs this power more to face the current crisis and solidify her position within the church. We are allies now, and her strength directly enhances our collective power. As for me..."
Roland's gaze remained steady and resolute.
There are other roads to power.
Seizing opportunities meant for his companions to strengthen himself is not his way.
With this conviction, Roland lifted his head, met Lothander's gaze, and declared plainly, "No, great Herald of Dawn, I am not the holy son, nor am I the chosen recipient of this blessing."
As his words fell silent, a hint of amusement flickered across Lothander's flawless face.
He studied Roland in silence, his gaze piercing through all pretense, reaching deep into the depths of his soul.
After a moment, he suddenly chuckled softly and clapped his hands with elegant restraint.
"Kindness... and that rare sincerity, the ability to uphold one's principles even when tempted by power. Such qualities are more precious than many glittering Divinities."
His tone was one of pure admiration.
Then, his voice shifted, becoming ethereal and profound.
"Though I cannot see the intricate threads of fate as clearly as Ogma, I can glimpse... your future road will be anything but ordinary."
"To receive both Shar's shadowy favor and Selune's gentle protection is proof enough of your exceptional nature."
His eyes sparkled with a childlike curiosity and a mischievous glint.
It was the "amusement" of an eternal being, looking down upon mortals.
"In that case..."
Lothander smiled, as if making a casual decision.
"I'll add a little variable myself. It might be quite interesting, don't you think?"
Before Roland could react or refuse, Lothander casually raised his hand. At his fingertip, a point of pure, dawn-like light coalesced, as if containing the very source of life and hope.
With a gentle gesture, Lothander pointed toward Roland.
The point of light instantly vanished into Roland's chest.
Instead of the expected searing pain, an overwhelming warmth surged through him, as if the very essence of life within him were rejoicing. This boundless energy coursed through every limb and vein.
Roland could clearly "feel" intricate patterns, imbued with the strength of order, light, and rebirth, silently etching themselves beneath his skin. These luminous lines spread like hidden veins woven from pure light.
Yet this extraordinary phenomenon was fleeting.
The faintly glowing patterns, as if having exhausted their power, receded like the tide, swiftly vanishing beneath his skin without a trace, as if they had never existed.
The vast, warm current likewise subsided, sinking deep into his body and fading into complete silence.
Everything returned to normal, as if the divine touch had been nothing more than a fleeting illusion.
But Roland knew that a "blessing" from a deity, tinged with a hint of amusement, had become one with him.
"Now, you should return," Lothander's gentle yet unwavering words struck Roland's soul like a hammer.
The moment the words faded, Roland felt a brief, weightless dizziness, as if he were floating in zero gravity.
Then, the absolute light and silence that had enveloped him receded like a tide, replaced by a sudden surge of sounds:
The majestic, ancient chanting of the collective, the humming of flowing energy, and the rapid thumping of his own heart.
The sensation was peculiar, like surfacing after a long underwater dive, finally breaking through to the noisy reality above.
He blinked instinctively, adjusting to the light.
Familiar sights returned to his vision:
The colossal crystal dome, the flowing river of golden light, the solemn priests and worshippers, and the radiant cocoon of light at the center of the stone platform.
He was still standing on the observation terrace, in the same position as before, as if his brief, time-spanning dialogue with the deity had been nothing more than a fleeting, bizarre hallucination.
Yet the lingering warmth within him—a faint afterglow that had briefly surged forth before quietly receding—silently testified that it was no dream.
As Roland struggled to calm his churning emotions, a line of gilded text, radiating a gentle yet searing light, silently materialized and unfurled across his vision:
Lothander's Morning Delight
The great Herald of Dawn, in a moment of whimsy, quietly bestowed upon you a sliver of his vast divinity—a sacred gift born from the first dawn, symbolizing rebirth and hope.
This blessing has significantly enhanced your perception of and affinity for all powers related to light, resurgence, and order, allowing you to easily dispel darkness and filth of equal or lesser intensity.
However, this generous gift is also tainted with Lothander's signature, almost childlike mischievousness. Any light Divine Magic or related abilities you cast have a very low chance of producing random, often laughably absurd side effects.
For example, a solemn and pure divine purification might temporarily transform the target's colors into garish, comical hues. A dawn hymn intended to inspire courage might compel the recipient to break into an impromptu, playful dance.
"May hope and laughter always accompany you—oh, don't be so serious, my dear child. These occasional mishaps are merely the dawn playing a little joke on you."
After carefully reading the description of the trait "Lothander's Morning Delight" in his field of vision, Roland couldn't help but smile wryly.
This blessing from the gods, with its distinct effects and side effects, bore the unmistakable imprint of the Herald of Dawn's personality, completely altering his perception of the world's deities.
In his previous understanding, gods were always aloof, majestic, solemn, and indifferent, viewing mortals as mere blades of grass. Their actions were supposed to transcend human emotions and whims entirely.
But from his encounters with Shar's secretive shadow whispers to now facing Lothander's mischievous gift of light, Roland realized that the gods of this world, beyond their undeniable and boundless divinity, seemed to possess some indescribable, almost "human" qualities.
Suddenly, a vague phrase he'd heard somewhere flashed through his mind.
"The Gods of this continent are, in essence, merely transcendent beings whose strength has reached unimaginable levels—nothing more."
As he pondered this, the ritualistic glow on the central platform completely faded and dissipated.
The ceremony of the "Radiant Blessing" had clearly concluded.
Roland's gaze settled on Gloria, and he couldn't help but narrow his eyes slightly.
Whether it was his imagination or not, he sensed a subtle difference in the Imperial Princess compared to before the ritual.
It wasn't a change in her appearance, but rather a deeper shift in her aura.
As if an inner radiance now flowed around her, she exuded an indescribable sense of majesty and sacredness, yet it blended seamlessly with her original composure.
Gloria exchanged a few quiet words with High Priest Bodo before walking directly toward Roland.
She paid no heed to his slightly scrutinizing gaze.
Approaching him with steady steps, she cut straight to the point, her tone as direct as ever.
"Lord Roland, we've received a reply from Duke..."
(End of the Chapter)
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