"Domain!"
The four figures seated on the stone chairs at the base of the palace couldn't help but tremble, their minds flooded with terrifying associations.
The vast, distant voice paid no heed to their reactions—or perhaps simply didn't care—and continued speaking.
"The apocalypse approaches in 22 years. The gods will face their twilight, the earth will splinter, and all existence will cease to be."
"You are the chosen few, fortunate to be selected. Together with my blessed, you will aid in my revival and contribute to the fight against the end."
"Of course, in this process, I will provide you with assistance and protection, allowing you to grow swiftly. You may address me as... the 'Lord of Order.'"
Louise Hills forcibly suppressed her shock and fear, mustering the courage to lift her head slightly and face the enigmatic figure shrouded in dark golden mist upon the throne.
"Respected Lord of Order, may I ask... what do the apocalypse and the twilight of the gods entail? Are we truly only 22 years away from the end?"
As a member of an ancient supernatural race that had endured since the Second Epoch, even though she was still young and had only recently reached adulthood, she had diligently studied many mystical texts within the Sanguine society in preparation for her travels across the northern continent.
Yet, strangely, she had found no prophecies or records mentioning the apocalypse or the twilight of the gods.
The other three figures remained silent but listened intently, eager for answers and more esoteric knowledge.
Aaron pondered for a moment, deciding it was necessary to instill a sense of urgency in the gathering's members. With a thought, the dark golden mist rippled, and the vast, distant voice spoke again, like the whisper of a deity.
"The truth of the apocalypse is beyond your current comprehension. Only when you ascend to the rank of angels will you be worthy of such knowledge. For now, understand this: when the end comes, even gods may fall."
"In these remaining 22 years, you will work alongside my blessed to facilitate my revival. In return, you shall gain the power to protect your loved ones when the time comes."
The grand hall fell into silence. The four seated on the stone chairs were each shaken by the horrifying revelation.
Unlike the others, who were still bewildered, Louise—as a member of a supernatural race—understood all too well what an "Angel" represented.
Angels referred to Beyonders of Sequence 2 and Sequence 1, beings who stood just below the true gods. They possessed extraordinary characteristics and could, to some extent, influence lower-sequence individuals of their own pathway. They were the pinnacle figures of the mortal world.
Within the major churches, only the popes, patriarchs, and legendary ascetics were known to be angels on earth. Among the Sanguine, only the three reigning dukes held such power.
Louise couldn't suppress a shudder, realizing she had stumbled upon something monumental—and terrifying.
But since the other three reacted similarly, her unease didn't stand out.
Aaron felt it was time for his "blessed" persona to step in and guide the gathering.
Sitting upright in the high-backed chair below the throne, he turned to the four below and spoke in a gentle tone:
"You need not fear. My Lord is neither an evil deity nor a malevolent hidden existence."
"The great Lord of Order shall bring hope and light to the land, impose order upon a chaotic future, and bestow upon you strength and glory."
After delivering this line with a tone of warm yet fanatical devotion, Aaron felt his toes could curl hard enough to dig out a two-bedroom, three-hall apartment.
The sheer shamelessness of impersonating another person to praise himself in front of an audience left him deeply embarrassed and uncomfortable.
'If anyone ever finds out, I'll die of humiliation on the spot.
No—absolutely no one can know. And this kind of boasting is something I'll have to keep doing. I need to get used to it, i need to adapt to it.'
He recalled how Klein, in the beginning, had also struggled with the awkwardness of impersonating The Fool—until the "City of Miracles," Liège, exposed his inner thoughts in the Hall of Truth. Yet, Klein had quickly adjusted, steadying his emotions.
Truly, growth is inevitable. Aaron sighed inwardly, taking mental notes.
As his voice faded, the four pairs of eyes below fixed on the figure in the high-backed chair.
"This must be the blessed of the Lord of Order," they all concluded simultaneously.
"Your current ranks are still low, so only matters involving higher sequences and greater significance will warrant the direct intervention of the great Lord of Order."
"For all else—hidden knowledge, hidden history, potions, mystical weapons—you may direct your inquiries and trades to me."
Aaron's goal was simple: to further elevate the Lord of Order's stature by emphasizing that only high-level matters required divine intervention. Everything else would be handled by his "blessed" persona.
If even a Sequence 9 material had to be requested directly from the Lord of Order, it'd be downright degrading. Do I, as a hidden existence, have no dignity to uphold?
By delegating these tasks to his "blessed" identity, he maintained the divine mystique while still offering tangible aid—and could even demand rewards that a deity couldn't openly request. Killing three birds with one stone.
Moreover, avoiding the need to simulate the Lord of Order's responses conserved his spirituality, prolonging the gathering.
After all, at Sequence 9, summoning four people at once was already a strain.
He also wanted to convey that, in the real world, there existed a formidable faction devoted to the Lord of Order—one capable of providing esoteric knowledge, hidden history, potions, and mystical weapons.
This would deter any ill intentions from forming among the members while giving them confidence in their rapid advancement through the supernatural world.
Sid Watson's eyes lit up, his fear and hesitation momentarily pushed aside. He couldn't help but speak up in a slightly trembling voice:
"Respected Blessed, members of the Spirit Church have secretly approached me, expressing their desire to recruit me. They've given me only a day to decide."
"The madness and ideology they've displayed terrify me. I don't wish to become like them—but if I refuse, I fear they'll silence me permanently. What should I do?"
The other three also turned their attention, their gazes sharpening. Even Feren Edas, who knew little of the supernatural world, had heard enough drunken pirate tales in Port Bardo's taverns to recognize the Spirit Church as a sinister, secretive organization.