FBPRN 20

Chapter 20: “I Heard You’re a God’s Chosen Too?”

The manifestations of gods came in many forms. A human appearance was only one of them.

Beyond humanoid avatars, there were also “true forms” that embodied the essence of their divine authority far more directly. Those forms could look like anything at all, unrestricted by mortal categories.

Su Cheng covered her face.

No wonder the God of Purity had been so furious.

That last thing she’d said to him had practically been a public declaration of war straight to his face.

The fact that he hadn’t cut her down on the spot was already merciful enough.

…Though he’d probably realized she genuinely hadn’t known the horse was him.

Su Cheng let out a long sigh. “That horse…”

“What do you mean, ‘that horse’?” the squad captain snapped with a frown. “That is a unicorn.”

Unicorns were an exceedingly rare species of high-level magical beast.

As the favored kin of the God of Purity, their methods of reproduction were shrouded in mystery. Rumor claimed each unicorn lived alone its entire life, hidden deep within remote mountain forests.

They were known as the arbiters of virtue. Only those with clear hearts and noble character could approach them, much less earn the chance to form a contract.

Su Cheng: “…”

Suddenly, she understood why the God of Lust and Corruption had called it a stupid donkey.

At the time, she’d wondered why he was insulting a horse statue when it clearly wasn’t a donkey.

Turns out he’d been cursing the God of Purity.

“…I thought it was some legendary beast or the mount of an important historical figure,” she muttered weakly. “You people seem to make statues of things like that too.”

Outside the prayer chamber, discussion rose and fell in waves. Some clergy had already dispersed, likely returning to work, but even more had come after hearing the commotion, crowding outside to watch.

“You really are…”

The paladins nearby whispered among themselves.

One of them stared at her in bewilderment. “You didn’t even know what the statue was, and yet His Highness Chesiah still favored you?”

“Well,” another mused, shaking his head, “maybe someone completely free of desire, someone who knows nothing about the gods, fits the definition of ‘purity’ even better.”

“Hah? Purity? Her? But earlier outside…”

“Perhaps it was simply pure admiration. Appreciation for beauty itself. Maybe that’s what moved His Highness…”

Su Cheng’s expression stiffened.

Surely they didn’t actually think she was chosen by the God of Purity?

The clergy continued their wild speculation, shooting her curious glances one after another.

If the expression on this supposed divine favorite’s face weren’t so catastrophically awful, they probably would have swarmed her with questions already.

Numb with embarrassment, Su Cheng turned and walked toward the unicorn statue.

She lowered her head to examine the inscription carved into the pedestal.

The writing looked bizarre, more like symbols than words, composed of intricate geometric patterns.

The squad captain approached her. “My lady?”

“I know, I’ll leave in a moment. But…” Su Cheng lowered her voice. “Can you read this?”

The captain nodded.

Apparently she’d already accepted that this honored chosen one was hopelessly uneducated.

“With glory as the measure by which we invoke Your sacred name, we offer our humble souls to the Radiance of Holy White, the Blessing of Purity, the Herald of Light.”

The captain recited the inscription slowly, reverently.

Her gentle voice echoed through the prayer hall.

Around them, the other clergy stood in solemn silence, heads bowed. Some mouthed silent prayers under their breath.

Meanwhile, Su Cheng was forcing herself not to stare at the horse.

Otherwise certain memories would come roaring back.

…Even if it had been the influence of the God of Lust and Corruption, she really had entertained improper thoughts about a horse.

Even worse, the horse and the statue outside were the same person.

And she’d said all that nonsense right in front of him.

Every time she remembered it, her scalp tingled with secondhand shame.

“Oh no,” Su Cheng groaned, clutching her head. “Let’s just go see the Archbishop already before he waits too long.”

The clergy looked at her with varying degrees of disapproval for interrupting such a sacred moment, but the reminder that she was supposedly a god’s chosen left their expressions twisted in strange uncertainty.

The crowd soon parted for her.

Priests and paladins watched as she stepped outside, only to hear greetings rising from the far end of the corridor.

Everyone around her bowed at once.

The hallway fell instantly quiet, filled only with the soft sound of breathing.

A group of high-ranking clergy approached.

“Miss Su.”

At the center stood a blond young man who inclined his head with a warm smile.

“My apologies for inviting you here so abruptly. I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion.”

He was tall, dressed in ceremonial robes. His long white-and-gold coat shimmered beneath the light, intricate runes embroidered across the pauldrons. Gold trim lined the cuffs and hem, while the emblem on his chest depicted two crossed scepters wreathed in pale golden holy fire.

“I am the Archbishop of the Roserian Diocese, Jann White.”

The blond man extended a hand.

He wore immaculate white gloves. The supple leather traced the shape of his knuckles, making his long fingers look elegant and powerful at once.

Su Cheng had originally intended to shake his hand.

But halfway through raising her arm, she froze.

Wait. Since he was an archbishop… was she supposed to kiss his hand instead?

She glanced up again.

This Archbishop was ridiculously handsome, with deep green eyes and a smile warm enough to melt winter stone.

Well. It wouldn’t exactly be a loss.

Su Cheng hesitated, terrified of making the wrong move and humiliating herself further.

The original owner of this body had no relevant memories whatsoever. Most people would never meet someone of an archbishop’s rank in their entire lives, much less speak to one face-to-face.

While she was still internally panicking, Jann casually took her hand first.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

His touch lasted only an instant before he released her.

No one around them reacted strangely.

Su Cheng felt infinite gratitude she hadn’t actually gone for the hand kiss.

Otherwise she’d never escape the title of shameless degenerate.

“The pleasure’s mine,” she said with a strained smile. “Though I suspect you may already regret inviting me here.”

The senior clergy around the archbishop exchanged subtle looks.

Clearly, they’d all heard what happened earlier.

“You jest,” Jann replied mildly. “As long as you do not blame me for my presumption.”

He proceeded to introduce the others around him. Two were senior paladin commanders, two were diocesan bishops, along with several priests and officiants.

Su Cheng greeted them one by one.

They were all remarkably friendly, and by unspoken agreement, nobody mentioned the earlier disaster.

Jann led her deeper into the cathedral. The gathered onlookers gradually dispersed, leaving the corridor increasingly quiet.

Occasionally, hurried clergy passed by, pausing only to bow before continuing on.

“You studied privately at home all this time?” one kindly-faced bishop asked.

Su Cheng nearly choked.

What exactly was this world’s setting supposed to be?!

The original Su Cheng really had studied at home. Her parents had left behind enough inheritance to hire private tutors.

Many low-ranking mages short on money registered themselves through the Mage Guild or Mercenary Association for work like that.

Teaching wealthy young masters and ladies was far safer than battling magical beasts in the wild, and the pay was often just as good.

Most of the original Su Cheng’s instructors had come from those backgrounds.

Then, once she reached sixteen or seventeen and became eligible for higher academies, she packed her belongings and came to Ambergold City to take the entrance examinations.

But that was the background setting for cannon-fodder Su Cheng!

What was she supposed to say now?

A headache bloomed instantly behind her eyes.

Feigning modesty, she lowered her head and muttered vague self-deprecating remarks about her shallow learning and limited spellcasting abilities.

“You’re too humble,” someone immediately replied. “We heard you passed the entrance examinations for the Crossstar Institute of Mysteries. Congratulations. This year’s examiners were notoriously strict.”

Su Cheng blinked.

Their information network was terrifyingly efficient.

Either they had eyes inside the Mage Guild, or they were directly connected to Crossstar.

“Thank you. I was simply fortunate.”

She exchanged a few more polite remarks before a young priestess hurried over from the distance.

Stopping beside one of the bishops, she lowered her voice.

“The son of Count Goller died outside the Mage Guild. His family has brought the body here.”

The bishop’s expression remained perfectly calm, as though this were utterly insignificant. She listened while glancing toward Jann.

Only after confirming the archbishop had no immediate instructions did she ask thoughtfully, “Do they want us to resurrect him, or investigate the cause of death?”

“Both,” the priestess replied softly. “They claim the young master was persecuted by heretics.”

At once, nearly every senior clergyman present revealed the exact same faintly disgusted expression.

Su Cheng almost laughed.

To ordinary people, the son of a count might seem untouchably important.

But to senior clergy capable of reviving the newly dead and hunting heretics, a count’s son was hardly worth mentioning.

Clearly, only accusations involving heresy could force the Church to pay attention.

But from another angle, it also sounded like an insult to the Church’s competence.

Otherwise, how could heretics infiltrate the city and openly murder someone outside the Mage Guild itself?

If that were true, the Church might as well be decorative architecture.

“What condition is the corpse in?” someone asked.

“Only half remains,” the priestess answered after a pause. “Everything above the chest cavity is gone. Heart and lungs missing. Multiple rib fractures with irregular breaks…”

She described the scene in detail.

The senior clergy all reacted differently.

“If they’re so certain it was heretics,” Jann said calmly, “then ask what kind of heretics the deceased offended, and what dealings their family had with them.”

The bishop called Lina bowed. “Understood, Your Grace.”

She left with the young priestess.

A thought stirred in Su Cheng’s mind.

Count Goller and his family truly did have connections to southern cultists.

At first it had only been about profit. Through those ties, they trafficked forbidden magical materials from the Southern Continent into the North.

But prolonged contact with cultists inevitably led to deeper corruption.

Su Cheng vaguely remembered they eventually began offering innocent civilians as sacrifices.

After Lin Yun became involved with the count’s daughter in the original novel, he also used her to establish contact with forces connected to the Dark God.

Of course, Lin Yun’s ties to the Eternal Night Sect and the Dark God’s followers extended far beyond just that single connection.

But considering the situation…

Once the count’s son died like that, the count himself would almost certainly overthink everything. He might even interpret it as a warning from the Church.

So perhaps those servants making a scene here were testing the waters.

“…My lady?” the archbishop called gently. “Is something wrong?”

Su Cheng snapped back to reality and realized every clergyman present was looking at her.

“I just remembered,” she said, clearing her throat, “that man was supposed to duel me during the academy division matches.”

She forced a trace of anger onto her face.

“If he truly was a heretic, then I can only regret missing the chance to execute him myself.”

Technically, that wasn’t even a lie.

After all, it had been the God of Contracts who killed him, not her.

The clergy exchanged another series of subtle looks.

Jann’s earlier remarks had merely hinted that the Goller family had questionable ties to heretics.

Su Cheng had just slapped the label of “cultist” directly onto the dead man’s forehead.

The archbishop hummed thoughtfully. “We have no evidence yet… though perhaps it is worth investigating. After all, it’s rare to hear someone invoke heresy so freely.”

He didn’t specify anyone by name, but one of the paladin commanders silently stepped away and departed.

Su Cheng knew the Goller family had done plenty of vile things. They simply hadn’t attracted enough attention from the Church before.

Now that the archbishop had spoken, they might not survive scrutiny intact.

“Speaking of the deceased,” another bishop said suddenly, “one of the instructors from Southriver Academy happens to be an old acquaintance of mine. She secretly asked me earlier whether people killed by a god’s chosen could be resurrected.”

Su Cheng: “…”

Jann smiled faintly. “And how did you answer?”

“The dead man was an elder of the Sword Combat Institute, a seventh-rank battle master. I told her that anyone capable of killing a seventh-rank warrior must themselves be at least seventh-rank. And aside from our own people, there are no seventh-rank experts in this city.”

The bishop paused.

“Then she clarified that it wasn’t the god’s chosen who acted personally. It was a divine manifestation. So I told her that if a god personally carried out judgment, then the victim must have borne guilt, and naturally we should not interfere. Was my answer acceptable, Your Grace?”

Jann nodded lightly. “Correct. We will not involve ourselves further.”

“There are also several people requesting an audience with you,” said a priest carrying an enormous ledger. “Most are insignificant figures. Though among them is the son of Marquis Murong…”

Su Cheng raised an eyebrow.

There was only one marquis in the entire empire with that surname.

“I have no time to entertain such people.”

The archbishop clearly had no interest whatsoever. He waved dismissively without even asking for details.

“You may all return to your duties. Ava, oversee the cathedral mass. John, receive the southern visitors…”

The clergy acknowledged his orders and soon dispersed completely, leaving only the archbishop standing there.

They had reached a quiet side corridor. Warm spring wind drifted through the towering windows while midday sunlight poured across the arches in sheets of gold.

Su Cheng hesitated.

At this point, she understood perfectly well that these people likely already knew she was a god’s chosen, and that both deaths were connected to her.

They had probably brought up those topics deliberately in front of her.

“My lady.”

The blond archbishop still wore the same gentle, elegant smile.

“There were actually two reasons we invited you here today. First, regarding the bracelet.”

Su Cheng had still been wondering why Murong Yue had come looking for her. She blinked.

“Hm?”

She’d assumed he wanted to discuss the god’s chosen matter, or the manifestation of the God of Purity.

“I heard the bracelet was sent to the Holy City.”

Jann nodded slowly.

“After your uncle delivered it to the cathedral, a priest presented it to me. I discovered certain irregularities, so I brought it personally to the Holy City and handed it to my mentor, Cardinal Bernard, one of the Twelve Red Archbishops and a member of the Curia. She discussed it with several colleagues and His Holiness the Pope, who ultimately decided the bracelet should be sent into the Divine Realm.”

Su Cheng: “?”

Every pope throughout history had been known as one who stood closest to the gods.

Not only were they personally powerful enough to rival demigods, but the position itself required constant communication with the divine.

The Pope reported the affairs of the continent to the gods and occasionally sought their guidance or accepted direct orders.

And “the gods,” naturally, referred to the God of Light and his subordinates.

Especially now that the God of Light rarely interfered in Church affairs directly. Most authority had fallen to the subordinate gods beneath him.

Still, they didn’t concern themselves with every trivial matter. Only major decisions warranted consultation.

Was the bracelet truly that important?

Su Cheng remembered that by the middle stages of the novel, the bracelet had practically vanished from relevance. It felt more like a disposable beginner’s cheat item.

The old man inside it had merely been a two-thousand-year-old undead mage. In a world like this, artifacts of similar nature surely weren’t unique.

So what hidden secret did it actually contain?

“The Divine Realm?” Su Cheng asked cautiously. “Did His Holiness present it to the God of Light?”

Jann shook his head.

“After the War of Black Daylight, the God of Light devoted himself to resisting the Void’s encroachment. Most Church affairs are now overseen by His Highness, the God of Purity.”

“…What?”

The name alone nearly triggered her stress response now.

“So the bracelet was given to… him?”

As they turned a corner, Su Cheng’s thoughts were in complete chaos. She failed to notice the steps ahead and nearly stumbled.

Jann immediately caught her by the waist, steadying her before withdrawing his hand at once.

“Yes,” the archbishop said with a nod. “His Highness asked about the bracelet’s original owner. He also expressed a desire to meet you.”

Thunder exploded inside Su Cheng’s skull.

“So the glowing statue wasn’t an automatic magical response? It happened because of the bracelet? He was trying to speak with me?”

She wasn’t chosen by the God of Purity. There was no special divine connection between them.

If he had manifested directly before her the way the God of Contracts had, the impact on her mind might have been catastrophic. It could even have driven her insane.

Divine statues themselves served as mediums between gods and mortals.

Speaking through the statue had actually been the safer option.

A flicker of guilt suddenly surfaced in her chest.

He’d genuinely been trying to avoid harming her, and in return…

Su Cheng spoke with difficulty. “When I stood before the statue… if he wanted to speak to me at that exact moment… could he also ‘see’ what I was thinking?”

“Ordinarily,” the archbishop replied evenly, “the gods have little interest in mortal thoughts. However, if one experiences especially intense emotions or desires in that moment, they would naturally perceive them.”

Su Cheng: “…………”

Just as she feared.

At the time, her entire brain had been occupied with thoughts about his chest.

No wonder he’d fled in anger.

Then the God of Lust and Corruption had deliberately shown up in the God of Purity’s prayer hall to cause trouble, provoking the latter into personally descending to drive him away.

And afterward he’d still been forced to deal with her nonsense.

Damn it.

This was all Lin Yun’s fault.

Su Cheng closed her eyes briefly. “Is there anything else I should know?”

The archbishop considered for a moment.

“His Highness believes that surrendering your family heirloom to the Church demonstrates both your loyalty and your fundamentally virtuous character.”

“…So his first impression of me was actually pretty good?”

Even if it had probably plummeted below zero by now.

Whatever.

She’d never intended to get involved with someone like him anyway.

Given certain developments from the original story, she neither wanted to become someone hunted by the God of Purity nor become his close friend.

…She might have offended him earlier, but since he hadn’t killed her yet, that meant things hadn’t crossed the point of no return.

Maintaining the current balance was good enough.

“…Additionally,” the archbishop continued, “His Highness warned that the bracelet is no ordinary object. Since you were once in contact with it, traces of its aura likely remain upon you. That may attract dark-blooded cultists.”

Su Cheng looked surprised. “The God of Purity personally said that?”

“Yes.”

Her confusion deepened.

“That’s all? He didn’t add anything else?”

Shouldn’t there have been something like Execute her immediately if she colludes with dark forces tacked onto the end?

“In truth,” Jann said, glancing at her, “there was one more thing. He hopes you will join the Church, to protect you from heretical influence and prevent hostile factions from harming you. However, the God of Light once declared that all believers must offer their faith willingly. So the decision remains yours.”

Su Cheng blinked.

Judging from the wording, it sounded as though he expected an answer.

Yet judging from his expression, he seemed equally unconcerned with whatever answer she gave.

“My lord,” Su Cheng suddenly said, remembering something, her tone turning teasing, “I heard you’re a god’s chosen too? Hypothetically speaking, there isn’t currently some major god or subordinate deity watching me through your eyes, right? I won’t explode into dust on the spot if I say the wrong thing?”

The Divine Realm.

Within mist soft as woven silk, white jade stairways and floating bridges intertwined around an enormous palace suspended above the clouds.

In the silent garden beside the palace, colossal trees of gold and silver spread their luminous canopies overhead. Their branches resembled flowing galaxies, cascading light through the haze.

Beside a pool stood seven statues of gods, each holding differently shaped jade vessels. Clear water streamed endlessly from them, scattering into rainbow fragments in midair.

Several figures stood at the water’s edge.

Soft white radiance obscured their impossibly beautiful faces.

“…Luxara withdrew his power.”

The figure in the center spoke quietly.

Silver hair drifted over his shoulders like melting frost beneath moonlight. Even the cold lines of his profile softened beneath the garden’s glow.

“As for his target,” the silver-haired young man continued in a low voice, “that rude little mortal… I saw her fear. She resisted only because she feared punishment.”

“Is that so?” someone beside him said lightly. “Perhaps the God of Lust and Corruption simply chose a form she didn’t find appealing. Personally, I suspect she prefers someone who looks more like you.”

The silver-haired youth frowned, seemingly about to refute that statement.

“…Even if what you say is true,” another voice added, “the instinct for survival resisting temptation may sound ordinary in theory. But in reality, how many people retain even their own names under that sort of influence, let alone concern themselves with consequences?”

There were countless clergy throughout history who had publicly fallen into darkness under corruptive influence, some even betraying the Church inside its own cathedrals.

Did they not understand the consequences?

“Indeed.”

A voice suddenly echoed from the long corridor encircling the pool.

Instantly, every subordinate god fell silent.

Not one dared speak again.

“I told you long ago that you should learn to notice the strengths in others instead of becoming angry the moment you see something you dislike.”

The speaker leaned lazily against an ivory pillar.

His loose curls resembled sunlight frozen into golden silk.

An enormous ancient tome rested across his knees while jade-like fingers brushed slowly across its pages.

“If you continue like this, you’ll miss out on many potential friends. Or at least many useful people.”

Several seconds passed before the silver-haired youth lowered his head.

“I will remember your guidance.”

The subordinate gods remained perfectly still.

Yet the man seated beneath the corridor no longer addressed them.

Instead, he turned toward the mist-covered garden, his gaze seeming to pierce through the clouds toward somewhere impossibly distant.

“Of course you may answer her, Jann,” he said lightly, amusement threading through his voice. “After all, I’m neither a major god nor a subordinate deity.”

His pleasant laughter drifted away on the wind.

The subordinate gods all lowered their heads in silence.

Everyone understood he wasn’t speaking to them.

“Mm… perhaps I’ll go see her myself someday.”

Back in the cathedral corridor of Ambergold City, the archbishop smiled gently and shook his head.

“You truly do have a sense of humor, my lady. I swear upon my soul that no major god or subordinate deity is listening through me at this moment.”

He paused briefly.

“And I am fully willing to bear any consequences for deceiving you.”

A smile curved faintly at his lips.

“For example, should the Lord of Contracts choose to claim my soul.”