Following the Decree, Chosen by Heaven

After arriving in Kawatua, Chen Chuan was in no hurry to take immediate action. Instead, he spent some time touring the city. Aside from Mount Turama at the highest point and the Hatikan Grand Sacrificial Altar upon its peak, the temples elsewhere were all open to visitors. Inside, the remaining nature spirits were enshrined, along with certain spirits set aside specifically for nobles and commoners to worship as they pleased. Some of these spirits bore names passed down solely by word of mouth, others were simply figures someone had heard of and found appealing, and still others were ancestral household deities. In truth, most of these spirits no longer existed. The people merely observed custom by selecting a guardian spirit to grant themselves peace of mind, for in the beliefs of the First People, beyond the lofty deities, every single First Person possessed a spirit of their own. When Chen Chuan visited the temples, a priest told him that even as an outsider, anyone dwelling on the Ying Continent could obtain a spirit of their own, and so he too was welcome to enshrine one. Chen Chuan glanced at his Second Self standing beside him, offered a polite word of thanks, and declined, judging that he had no need for such things. Deputy Delegation Leader Lu, on the other hand, had previously enshrined one—not because he believed the doctrine, but as a deliberate gesture to blend in. Even so, Lu felt Chen Chuan had made the right choice. For a martial artist as formidable as Chen Chuan, taking on a nature spirit for protection might respect local customs and make the people of Kawatua feel closer to him, but it would also diminish the impression of his overwhelming strength in their minds. The drawbacks far outweighed the benefits. As a martial artist, maintaining the awe of one's martial might and commanding genuine dread was what mattered most. There was no need for him to play the affable peacemaker; that task was best left to people like Lu. Chen Chuan had not spent those seven or eight days merely sightseeing. Through various channels, he made every effort to grasp the internal situation of Kawatua, including the sentiments of the commoners, the demands of the nobility, and the ongoing disputes among the upper echelon. Although much of this had been covered in briefings, circumstances could shift at any moment and reports could become distorted. By going out to observe things firsthand, he could combine his findings with the existing intelligence to reach an accurate assessment. With a clear grasp of the situation and a plan forming in his mind, Chen Chuan followed the customs of the First People and had Xin Hongtu relay to the High Priestess his desire for a personal meeting. He was in no rush regarding when she would grant the audience. An immediate meeting would signal that she held him in high regard, while a delay would simply give the opposing nobles time to react. He was not worried about a fierce reaction from them. In fact, it would be far easier to deal with them once they all exposed themselves. *** Within the Hatikan Grand Sacrificial Altar, High Priestess Iripa Akya sat at the incense-burning altar performing her daily ritual. She was exceedingly old. Her exact age had long been lost to memory; even the oldest priest in the priesthood besides herself was younger than her own grandsons. Her face was lined with deep wrinkles and age spots, yet her silver hair remained neatly plaited into twin braids. Though her physical body was merely that of an ordinary mortal, she possessed immense spiritual strength. This power allowed her to commune with the nature spirits of the First People with effortless ease. So long as she wished it, she could connect with any nature spirit across the entire Ying Continent. Perhaps it had been a hundred years ago, or perhaps even longer, she recalled the nature spirits filling her dreams like stars across the night sky. They possessed all manner of temperaments—some barged rudely into her mind to frighten her, some offered comfort and solace, while others sought to tempt her. Through decades of interaction, she had learned how to deal with each of them. Through such communion, she had been able to coordinate and oversee the priestly affairs of tribes everywhere. Even tribes separated by vast distances could be united through her. Her memory was failing now; she could no longer recall the names of many of her own children. Yet she still remembered the name of every nature spirit she had ever contacted, and could recite their personalities and preferences by heart. However, most of the nature spirits had been forsaken in the wake of the Great Curse, unable ever again to enter her spiritual world of their own accord. Even so, down to this day, she could still catch the faint sounds of rituals and prayers carried by the sacrifices of certain tribal priests. Whenever possible, she would attempt to reach out to the nature spirits, offering solace and response. When she first arrived in Kawatua, such voices of prayer had been abundant. Over the years, however, they had grown fewer and fewer. Last year there had still been more than fifty, but now fewer than thirteen remained. This meant those tribes had vanished alongside their remaining nature spirits. Sacrificial rites represented the transmission of knowledge and the acknowledgment of ancestral spirits; if a tribe could not even sustain its rites, its people were truly gone. And just moments ago, she had noticed that yet another connection had severed. How much longer could the few that remained hold out? A surge of sorrow washed over her. Was the decline and fall of the First People truly inevitable? She reached out with her mind, sensing the colossal body of the feathered serpent deep beneath the earth. Her potent spiritual strength made her feel as though her very skin were pressed against its back. From it, she sensed a faint, weary, decaying, and pained response. Yet even so, that broad back still offered her a profound sense of safety. She let out a long sigh. She remembered being a carefree young girl who had boldly asked Ikus for a shed scale to keep beside her bed. In those days, how vibrant its life force had been, its power boundless as an open ocean. Lost in reminiscence, she suddenly caught a sound—a new voice of sacrifice. Her spirits lifted. This meant that a tribe which had previously refused contact with the Zaites was now willing to join them. She listened intently. The voice repeated a single name over and over. After a moment, she heard it clearly. "Koimoi... Koimoi... Has Koimoi awakened...?" she murmured softly. She remembered that Koimoi was an evil god. People offered sacrifices to him only out of terror; even the nature spirits dreaded his name. Had such an evil god truly returned? In the past, she might have treated this with the utmost caution. Now, she merely sighed in weary resignation. Was the Federation today not also an evil god? And an unimaginably powerful one at that. What difference would one more make? She extended a thread of spiritual intent, attempting to offer a measure of response and reassurance. Just then, a deaf-mute priest stepped to her side and signed a series of intricate gestures. *A demigod from Great Shun wishes to meet me?* She had not intended to grant an audience; her heart was still torn, unable to decide. Yet just as the thought crossed her mind, an ethereal, distant voice echoed softly in the depths of her consciousness. She froze. "Ikus, is this your guidance?" She pondered for a moment. "Then let us meet." It had been years since Ikus last conveyed a complete message to her. As a priestess, it was her duty to honor it, even if a sliver of doubt remained in her heart. She signed several gestures in reply. The deaf-mute priest bowed respectfully and quietly withdrew. *** Chen Chuan had anticipated waiting several days, but the message he sent in the morning received a response before noon. Guided by a Sacred Land Warrior dispatched by the priesthood, he arrived at a hollow-carved chamber draped in gold leaf—the Audience Chamber of the Divine—situated before the Great Temple of Mount Turama. Sunlight filtered through the intricate openings in dappled beams, lending the drifting smoke of burning fragrant leaves a dreamlike, sacred aura. The High Priestess stood leaning on a staff, waiting for him. As Chen Chuan stepped inside, the Sacred Land Warrior remained on guard outside. The High Priestess looked at him, then asked in standard Great Shun speech, "Mr. Chen, you heard Ikus's voice, did you not?" Chen Chuan replied candidly, "It was too faint. I caught bits and pieces, but I couldn't make out everything." Seeing how casually he spoke of Ikus, the High Priestess felt a flicker of surprise. Even the most radical dissidents spoke of Ikus with utter reverence and awe. Perhaps this was because the person across from her was a demigod. With a quiet sigh, she said, "Ikus has grown old. His consciousness is fragmented. At times his thoughts lack coherence, at times he fails to recognize even me, and at other times his memories drift into the distant past, mistaking me for someone else. He drifts in and out of confusion, so it matters not that you could not hear him fully, Mr. Chen." Chen Chuan understood that this was the natural consequence of a falling life rank and decaying strength. More than that, such decline made one vulnerable to corruption, forcing whatever meager energy remained to be spent fending off the taint and preserving a sense of self. It was a wonder that Ikus had managed to hold on for so long. He said, "I believe the suggestion he offered is quite sound." The High Priestess looked at him. "I cannot say whether it is right or wrong. Were I to ask him again this very moment, he might have already forgotten what he just said. Nevertheless, since he directed you to me, Mr. Chen, and placed this choice before me, I am willing to give it a try." Chen Chuan nodded. "Then we have an agreement." The High Priestess said, "Mr. Chen, please stay a while longer. If you leave right away, it will hardly put much pressure on them. The longer you remain here, the more anxious they will become. I happen to have some fine tea to offer, and I would love to hear about Great Shun, if you wouldn't mind humoring an old woman with some conversation." Chen Chuan said, "I would be glad to." "Please, have a seat." *** It was not until late afternoon that Chen Chuan finally emerged from the Audience Chamber of the Divine. Deputy Delegation Leader Lu hurried up to meet him and looked at him inquiringly. "Director?" Chen Chuan gave him a slight nod. Lu breathed a quiet sigh of relief, though this brief exchange did not escape the eyes of the nearby guards. Once the two departed, word spread swiftly to the high nobles, sending an immediate wave of panic through their ranks. The meeting had lasted for several hours. This strongly suggested that the High Priestess was leaning toward Great Shun. And if the priesthood threw its support behind Great Shun, they would hardly need to lift a finger—the combined prestige of the royal house and the priesthood would be more than enough to crush the opposition from within, leaving all their grand ambitions in ruins.