The Church of the Almighty God, Peryss Street.
Inside the vast church hall, footsteps echoed as two figures walked forward. The golden floor stretched beneath them, reflecting faint light from above.
One was an old man in a black robe. The other, a young boy with silver hair.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The only sounds were their rhythmic footsteps, accompanied by the distant rumble of rain and thunder outside.
...
After walking for a while, the silver-haired boy turned to the old man. "But Bishop Kelnly, before the ritual we are about to perform, I have a question. You know me as a very diligent child, someone who wishes to become the embodiment of God. I'm always curious."
"I've been studying matters of the past and came across the creation myth. I heard that the Creator's eyes became the sun and the moon, but others say they are fragments of the Creator, manifestations of His thoughts, each with its own meaning."
He looked up at the bishop. "Could you shed more light on that matter?"
Bishop Kelnly, still walking barefoot beside the boy, smiled.
Today was the day a new bishop would be chosen. For the embodiment ritual, to become one with God—one needed a calm mind and absolute faith.
With that in mind, he began to speak. "Yes, that is the case. That's the nature of the creation myth, every religion follows it, but people interpret it differently."
"The sun and the moon are indeed the Creator's eyes. However, the Creator also formed ideas and brought gods into existence through His fragments. In that sense, the yellow sun became what He envisioned, and from it, a god was born."
"As for the recent Pale Moon Goddess… she did not originate the same way. She stole the position of the main goddess and now exists as the embodiment of the moon's concept."
"Do you understand?"
The silver-haired boy nodded.
Before long, they arrived at a door. Kelnly opened it.
Inside, they were greeted by white walls stretching in all directions—and to the left seated a large tub filled with water.
...
Kelnly gestured for the young boy to step into the tub.
As he entered, the silver-haired boy shivered. The water was cold, and surprisingly shallow, yet enough for him to stand within it.
At that moment, Kelnly approached and placed a palm on his head, offering a quiet prayer. Then, stepping to the side, he reached toward the edge and retrieved a silver blade.
Its surface reflected his yellow hair and tired face.
He handed it to the boy.
"Do it. With this, you can become one with God. You must kill yourself and have faith that the Lord will save you."
"It is a normal ritual for those who have reached seventeen."
The silver-haired boy nodded and took the blade with trembling hands.
...
The silver-haired boy was afraid. But he remembered—one must always have faith in God.
With that, he raised the blade and plunged it into his chest.
Blood gushed out instantly.
His body sank deeper into the tub, his vision fading until the only thing he could see was Kelnly, still praying.
At that moment, the howling winds and rolling thunder outside began to intensify, growing louder and faster with each passing second, as if something dangerous was forcing its way into existence.
Then, just as suddenly, it all subsided.
Kelnly looked toward the tub.
The boy was gone.
For a moment… hope faded.
But then—
The boy's body slowly rose from the shallow water.
It had changed. His frame was now larger, more muscular.
He suddenly sat upright, and opened his eyes.
As soon as he did that, his eyes were revealed, lacking vitality and color, it was just an expressionless gaze.
...
Lamenti, along the road.
Heavy rain poured down as thunder rumbled across the sky again and again. Beneath a shared umbrella, Lumian and Lury walked through the storm.
But what's going on with this weather? Lumian wondered inwardly. The rain has been falling for the past two hours…
As they continued walking, he thought about using his new mystic eyes and glanced at Lury.
From his perception, he learned that Lury was twenty-four, had some health issues, she had not been with a man, and was not a sorcerer.
Wait… Lury is older than me? Lumian thought, surprised.
To be honest, he had assumed she was around the same age as him.
Before he could think further, Lury suddenly spoke.
"Lumian… Lumian… that doesn't really sound like a Betyl name."
Lumian, slightly caught off guard by her question, replied with a smile.
"That's because I'm not from Betyl."
"You're not from Betyl? How?" Lury asked, turning to look at him.
Lumian chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm actually from Montmartre. When I was young, well, when I was about three—my mother, father and I alongside my siblings moved to Betyl and stayed for some time. That's how I learned the language, hehe."
"But when we went back to visit our relatives when I was twelve… we had a car accident on the way back to Betyl. My parents died."
A brief silence followed.
Lury parted her lips and spoke softly. "I'm so sorry about that. Here I was thinking I was the only one who had lost a parent."
Lumian didn't know what to say to that.
Instead, he gently took the umbrella from her hand.
Seeing this, Lury rested her head lightly against his shoulder as they continued walking through the rain.
...
Soon, they arrived at the cornerstone and bid each other farewell.
Upstairs, Kelvin watched the scene, a faint smile curving on his lips.
With that, Lumian stepped inside.
As soon as he entered, he was greeted by the faint aroma of food from the kitchen. However, seeing Laura seated on a chair—and knowing his brother's terrible cooking skills—he couldn't help but wonder who was cooking.
He removed his shoes and walked in.
Laura, who had been on her phone, perked up when she saw him.
"Good evening, Lumian. You're back. To be honest, you took quite a while, coming home at eleven."
Lumian chuckled. "I've been really busy. Where's Kelvin?"
"He's upstairs. Should I call him for you?" she asked, standing up.
"No, no need," Lumian replied with a smile. "But who's in the kitchen?"
Laura rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "That's his fiancée, Helen. She came for their wedding preparations, and since it's raining, she decided to stay."
Lumian chuckled inwardly. Thank Skywalker… if not, Kelvin might've blown up the kitchen.
At that moment, Kelvin came down the stairs.
...
Lumian had expected his brother to scold him for coming home late, but instead, Kelvin simply took a sip from the drink in his hand and said, "You're growing up. I'm proud of you."
Lumian didn't quite understand what he meant, so he quickly changed the topic.
"To be honest, I thought you were the one cooking. I would've started praying right then and there, for the appliances to survive."
Laura chuckled.
Kelvin frowned. "Lumian, don't mistake my choice not to cook for an inability to cook. If I started right now, you'd be crying on the spot."
"Yes, of course," Laura added, laughing. "Crying tears of misery."
Kelvin turned to her with a smile. "Seems like you don't want to have your phone for today… or tomorrow."
Hearing that, she quickly covered her mouth, suppressing her laughter.
At that moment, a girl with brown hair and delicate, mature features stepped out of the kitchen.
"Who says my husband can't cook?"
...
Immediately, Kelvin and Laura pointed at Lumian.
Lumian's mouth twitched as he glanced at Laura. I thought we were in this together…
Outwardly, he said, "No, no. Our brother here is a good cook. I just mean… not as good as you."
Helen chuckled and wrapped her arms around Kelvin. "He should be better than me. Maybe one day he'll cook for me."
Hearing that, the siblings laughed. Even Kelvin couldn't help but let out an awkward chuckle.
Laura spoke up again. "Sure… but you might regret it."
Helen covered her mouth and giggled. Meanwhile, Kelvin put on a serious expression.
"Laura, go to your room."
"Or what? You're going to hit me?" she shot back.
Kelvin raised his hand, only to gently ruffle her hair instead.
After that brief exchange, they soon gathered for dinner and enjoyed a hearty meal. The atmosphere was lively, with Helen's presence bringing more topics into the conversation.
...
After some time, the siblings and Helen went to sleep.
Meanwhile, Lumian put on a black sweater and gloves, preparing to head out.
He was going to perform the prayer Mr. Hayes had instructed him to do.
He hadn't done it earlier, knowing he would return late, and his brother would likely scold him for it.
With that in mind, he quietly stepped outside, called for a taxi, to set off toward a temple he had heard about.
He had learned of it from some believers of the God. They said it was a place where people could pray directly before a statue and have their prayers accepted more quickly.
Soon, he got into the taxi and headed there.
...
After some moments, he arrived near a forest in the northern region of Betyl. It had been a long ride, costing him ten pounds.
He stepped out just as the taxi sped away.
Looking ahead at the forest, he noticed something strange—the thunder, rain, and storm all seemed heavier here than anywhere else.
What could be causing this? Geographic reasons? he wondered. But honestly… the weather today has been unusually strange.
A sense of unease crept into his mind as he grew more alert and began walking forward.
Rumble!
As he ventured deeper into the forest, the lightning crackled more intensely. The wind howled, bending the trees violently.
The entire scene felt like a cataclysm in the making.
...
Advancing deeper into the forest, with the storm intensifying alongside him, Lumian soon noticed a giant statue ahead. Its features were unclear from a distance—only its towering outline could be seen.
Without hesitation, he sped forward.
There were two reasons for this: first, the storm had grown so violent that it nearly lifted him off the ground; and second, he wanted to finish his task quickly and return home.
Blurring past trees and bushes, Lumian's face tightened as the winds grew stronger and stronger. At times, his speed couldn't keep up, and he was thrown off balance—only managing to steady himself by grabbing onto nearby trees.
But he didn't stop.
Drawing on the surrounding spirituality, he pushed himself faster and faster.
Soon, he reached the structure where the statue stood.
And the moment he arrived—
The raging winds and heavy rain ceased.
It was as if the place itself was protected.
...
Looking ahead, he saw a figure with blue hair, crying before the statue.
The person's eyes were deeply reddened, standing out against a pale face as tears fell again and again.
What the hell… could this person be the reason for the storm? Who is he?
Lumian's thoughts raced.
Wait… this raging storm… the tales of the God of Storms… and this person kneeling here, praying before the statue…
Could this be… the Son of Storms?