“This kind of secret technique isn’t some particularly important secret.”
The Elven Priestess was a little confused as to why this Holy Maiden would want their elven tribe’s secret technique for maintaining humanity.
This secret technique certainly wasn’t for the Holy Maiden herself to use; a human lifespan of over a hundred years can hardly wear down the soul and humanity.
Only humans of the Age of Radiance, through technological and medicinal modifications, were able to achieve a lifespan barely comparable to that of long-lived races, and only then did they need various secret techniques to maintain their humanity.
But those life-extending technologies cannot be replicated in this era.
So, it’s probably because this Holy Maiden has friends who are long-lived races, which is why she came to inquire.
But she didn’t delve too deeply into the matter.
After all, this human Holy Maiden is a distinguished guest of the Progenitor.
This small request isn’t excessive.
The elven tribe itself is also very happy to share technology with the nations of the mortal world.
As a long-lived race that inherited most of the legacy of the Age of Radiance, in the early stages from the Long Night to the Age of Dawn, all beings received favors from the elven tribe.
Although many technologies and devices were still greatly affected by the pollution and plundering of the Ideal Kingdom.
For example, certain equipment built entirely according to Age of Radiance technology might, without warning, have something crawl out of a part during use, causing the entire device to become abnormal.
Therefore, many technological routes were once blocked, and the various magical [the original text cuts off here]
Technology, for the most part… either had to be completely redeveloped from scratch, or existing foundations had to be purged of easily corrupted nodes, with replacement parts sought out.
This was the terrifying aspect of the Foe of All Beings.
However, thanks to the elves’ generous sharing and the unified wisdom of all beings, this crisis-ridden world has once again seen civilization flourish. The millennia-long wars, though causing many problems, ultimately did not defeat resilient humanity.
The fact that the beings of the mortal world still gather here as usual is humanity’s rejection of baseness and evil.
If the Progenitor were awake for longer, they would surely be comforted by this scene.
The corner of the elven priestess’s mouth curved slightly upward, but the fluctuating emotion was quickly suppressed by their secret technique.
“After I meet with the Progenitor, I’ll arrange for someone to come to your temple as soon as possible, Holy Maiden, to impart the Secret Art of Serenity.”
“Because this secret art isn’t just about limiting physical senses; it also involves the soul. Without guidance from my people, problems can easily arise.”
Seraphiel hadn’t expected the elf in front of her to agree so quickly and felt a bit embarrassed.
She had thought she’d have to use a lot of persuasion, but she didn’t expect the elf to be so amenable.
The outside world generally perceives elves as emotionless berserkers—one hand holding a battle-axe, the other drawing a bow, casting nature magic, and blasting the heads off anomalous monsters.
After all, for a thousand years, they’ve been a warrior race fighting the Ideal Kingdom at the borders.
Any elves traveling outside who encountered fanatics deluded by the Ideal Kingdom would simply flay those madmen alive…
It’s no wonder ordinary people would be scared when they saw their expressionless faces, covered in blood.
But upon actual contact, Seraphiel discovered that these elves, despite being somewhat stoic, actually lead quite rich lives.
It’s just that older elves do have more severely suppressed emotions, genuinely acting like wooden figures…
Younger elves, who don’t yet need the secret art, are no different from humans. Stereotypes really can’t be trusted.
“Thank you, I appreciate your trouble… If there’s anything I can do later, please, Priestess, just say the word.” Seraphiel bowed her head in gratitude. She thought to herself, if she and Lilith ever got married, she’d definitely invite the priestess to be a bridesmaid. But walking into the pure white hall with Lilith… Seraphiel could only dream of that.
Anyway, if that secret art really allowed her to take down that arrogant little vampire princess, she would definitely repay this generous elf.
“No need, Holy Maiden. Your presence here, standing for all beings, is enough to earn our highest respect… And compared to the chaos caused by those descendants of heroes, your request, Holy Maiden, isn’t even a bother…”
Just as she spoke, a golden pillar of light suddenly shot up from the distant allied forces’ camp.
Golden light spilled across the emerald forest, accompanied by indistinct cheers.
Seraphiel’s mouth twitched.
It was probably those descendants of heroes again, playing their “who has the bigger holy sword” game.
But given the commotion, they likely messed it up again.
“It’s fine, the forest guardians will go beat… will go properly educate these Holy Sword wielders.”
As if completely used to it, the elven priestess didn’t even look back, though Seraphiel noticed the fist she was clenching under her wide sleeve.
Hmm, she didn’t seem truly calm after all.
“Haha, those descendants of heroes… they’re always so full of energy.”
“It’s always been like this. In the few hundred years I’ve served, every time they come here, they cause all sorts of problems… But they’re not the only ones who cause trouble. Compared to those ill-tempered witches, the Machinist Guild causing explosions with their experiments in the forest, the covert explorers who love to trespass into forbidden areas, and some factions with unknown grudges from outside who can’t help but want to fight here… these Holy Sword wielders are actually quite good.”
Seraphiel noticed that this expressionless elven priestess was talking more, almost as if she were complaining to her.
She thought about how difficult it must be for the elven tribe, acting as a hub connecting various factions.
They had even managed to turn an emotionless, emotionally detached elf into a chatterbox.
“It must be… very hard on you all. But our church shouldn’t give you any trouble; our rules are quite strict, and our priests are very disciplined.”
“Indeed. It would be even better if your missionaries didn’t try to evangelize our forest guardians. Our elven tribe doesn’t believe in gods.”
“…I’ll restrain my subordinates when I get back…”
“Also, please don’t randomly stuff small proselytizing cards into the tree crevices in the forest; it’s a bit of a hassle for us to clean up.”
“My apologies.”
The conversation between the two of them came to a complete halt.
Seraphiel silently lowered her head and followed the elven priestess upward for a long while, until the air became slightly thinner.
They finally arrived before a huge archway woven from trees.
From this high vantage point, looking into the distance… one could see… the source of all evil, standing upon the black earth, devouring everything in the world.
This legend of the elven tribe had established their hall here, seemingly to constantly observe this enemy of the world.
Seraphiel’s cerulean eyes narrowed as she gazed at the world where the sun, moon, and stars coexisted in the high heavens.
The sun and moon intertwined in the sky, twisting into a vortex.
The scorching sun baked the twisted world beneath it, while sparse starlight occasionally flickered beside the silver moon, transforming into silver swords pointing at the sins beneath the night.
The tips of the starlight swords were the two most brilliant stars.
Eighteen World Pillars broke through the earth’s crust, piercing straight into the sky.
A colossal, jet-black obelisk, shaped like a triangular prism, floated within the dome constructed by the world’s will.
The warp drive at the obelisk’s tail had been continuously erupting for a thousand years, dark matter streams colliding with the surface of the World Pillars, scorching the ancient script carved into their shafts into a fiery gold.
Those chains of destiny, spreading from the World Pillars, tightly entangled the jet-black behemoth, which yearned to pierce the heavens.
However, the gravity exerted upon it by this world’s will ultimately prevented it from taking that final step.
Each inch the chains of destiny tightened, layers of black armor plating would peel off its surface, revealing crimson energy flowing through cracks.
The fallen plating transformed into twisted textual monuments, burning with black fire, that rained down upon the black earth.
Under the gaze of those engines, like the pupils of giants, they eventually became the cornerstones of new alien lands.
And yet, the damaged armored areas regenerated in a few breaths.
The black behemoth, abandoning this assault, slowed its process of tearing open the sky, awaiting the next moment when all beings would lower their guard.
And then, at the pinnacle of that triangular obelisk, a shining country once again appeared.
Joyful hymns sang of this perfect utopia.
It embraced the desires of all within its borders and satisfied the never-ending chasm of desire.
Yet, beneath it lay the hollow black earth.
Seraphiel averted her gaze from that contemptible city, which had stolen almost all the light of the Age of Radiance.
Just by looking at it, its tempting hymns began to echo in her mind, as if inviting her to dance with them in a city of endless joy, free from all pain.
Seraphiel was utterly disdainful. Instead, she felt that this thing was truly like a giant black beast.
All of her, all her desires, had long been placed upon that damned vampire princess.
She only wanted that unique her.
Even if Lilith was a scumbag beyond all scumbags, Seraphiel had never doubted her love for her.
She would only use her own methods and means to become the one and only in Lilith’s heart.
She disdained using some omnipotent wish-granting machine to turn Lilith into her puppet, or to create a substitute that looked exactly like Lilith.
The so-called [Ideal Kingdom] could only tempt villains as despicable as itself…
However, there are still many people in the world who are tempted by the promises made by the Ideal Kingdom, becoming its lackeys… longing for the day they can be accepted by that city.
This millennium-long struggle, who knows when it will end.
“Holy Maiden Isis, please come this way.”
Seraphiel turned her head, no longer thinking about the Ideal Kingdom, and followed the elven priestess’s guidance into the legendary palace.
Branches and leaves intertwined to form a magnificent dome, and vines hung down like ribbons, emitting a faint luminescence.
On both sides of the long corridor were statues of past elven heroes, with ancient runes branded upon the stone tablets in front of them, recording their epic pasts.
At the end of the corridor, roots were intertwined to form a natural throne.
Threads of destiny reached out from the void, connecting to the figure on the throne.
It was an elven woman who appeared incredibly ancient.
Time had left countless marks on her, her skin as coarse and wrinkled as the surrounding tree bark.
Though her face was etched with wrinkles, her emerald-like eyes still gleamed with wisdom and majesty.
Her sharp gaze spanned the palace corridor, passing through the grand archway, seemingly fixed on the silhouette of the black behemoth in the distance.
In her withered hand, she clutched a longbow, its body carved with ancient runes, faintly glowing with golden light.
She was like a hunter waiting for her prey to make a move.
And this hunter… had been entangled in battle with that prey for a thousand years.
The entire palace was serene and solemn, with only the rustling of wind through the leaves, as if playing an ancient hymn for her.
Seraphiel watched the majestic figure on the throne, her breath catching.
It wasn’t until the elven priestess beside her knelt down that she reacted, quickly bowing her head and dropping to one knee.
This hero, who had protected all beings for such a long time, deserved this most solemn of courtesies.
This was Seraphiel’s first time as a Holy Maiden seeing this legendary hero.
This being never appeared in public; even at the allied forces’ meetings, it was the elven priestesses who conveyed her will on her behalf.
She was quite different from what Seraphiel had imagined.
She had originally thought… that someone from the same era as Lilith would be less proper.
“Great Progenitor Gwynneth, I have brought your guest.”
The elven priestess’s voice was filled with a fervent reverence that even her emotion-suppressing secret art couldn’t fully conceal.
The resonant voice echoed through the grand hall.
After a long moment, Gwynneth slowly lowered her gaze, looking at Seraphiel, who was kneeling before the throne.
Feeling that gaze, as if it could pierce right through her, cold sweat beaded on Seraphiel’s forehead.
It had been a long time since she, as a Divine Chosen, had felt such suffocating pressure.
Then… this hero spoke first.
“Inheritor of â–¡â–¡… what you seek is not here with us.”
“Go, and become a true Holy Maiden.”
“Take good care of her.”
A cacophony of hissing reverberated in Seraphiel’s mind.
It was the backlash caused by the world deleting knowledge from her mind—knowledge that no longer existed in this world.
What inheritor? What true Holy Maiden?
Take care of her? Was she talking about Lilith? This legend… she really does know Lilith…
The roaring in Seraphiel’s mind quickly dissipated, but when she anxiously looked up, wanting to ask something, she found that Gwynneth, on the throne, had already closed her eyes.
“You… you know Lilith? What you just said…”
“Your Grace, the Progenitor has fallen into slumber.”
The elven priestess stood up and moved in front of a clearly agitated Seraphiel.
“I know you have many questions, but the Progenitor has likely said all she can. These past few years, the Progenitor’s truly conscious, communicative time has been very short. She projects most of her power onto destiny, so even a few words with you are truly rare. Please forgive us, the meeting time has ended. I will lead you to the lounge.”
Seraphiel: “…”
This inexplicable meeting thus drew to a close.
“Elves, huh… can’t get a straight answer out of them, barbaric and fierce, will definitely resort to violence rather than talk, and if they do talk, they like to speak in riddles.” Lilith commented sharply.
“They’re all boring women, dry as toast no matter how you tease them, won’t even make a sound… even if they truly like you, they’ll just bottle it up.”
Today’s lessons at the convent were over.
Selunia, who was forcibly linked arm-in-arm with Lilith, rolled her eyes.
This vampire was talking strangely again.