The conference room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.
The faint-blue holographic projection beams were still flickering.
The youth suspended in mid-air stood there, exuding an extraordinary presence.
"So you're saying this Easterner killed a god?"
Loxas Locke's eyes flickered as he stared at the virtual image.
Whenever the five Holy Lords of the Dark Sacred Court hold a meeting, they never actually travel thousands of miles to gather in one place.
Most of the time, they just use holographic projection tech for quick discussions.
The Dark Sacred Court, whose main goal is to revive the Dark God, often clashes with those so-called justice-loving types from the Radiant Sacred Court.
But lately, the Dark Sacred Court's power has been swelling in the shadows, and with each new discovery of inscriptions about the Dark God, they've only grown stronger.
"We can't be sure. The inscriptions on the pillar are extremely hard to decipher. You know as well as I do—the script from the Mythic Era is a god's language. To crack it, we need time, and a bit of luck."
"Besides, the pillar has been soaked in seawater for ages, so most of the script is corroded and hard to make out, which makes deciphering it even tougher."
"But this one line is perfectly clear."
The virtual image spoke calmly: "But no matter what, the discovery of this pillar at least confirms that the Dark God truly existed."
"The location of that stone pillar matches perfectly with what's recorded in our copy of the Black God Codex."
"The Dark God built his divine court on the lightless ocean floor. Every time the waves rage, it's said to mark the god's awakening."
"But there are way too many divine courts linked to the Dark God. As one of the rulers of the Mythic Era, he built countless palaces. The Mythic Era was so long ago that finding one of his palaces, let alone his remains, is anything but simple."
The virtual image waved its hand again.
The projected figure finally vanished completely, and everyone around suddenly felt a lot lighter.
"As for that Easterner, I still don't know who he is."
The virtual image continued: "According to the Light God Saga, passed down by Radiant Sacred Court bards, all we know is that in the Mythic Era, the Light God supposedly died together with the Dark God in the name of justice."
"Neither the Black God Codex nor the Light God Saga ever mention any Easterner, but this pillar from the deep sea has a carving of the Eastern youth that's perfectly clear."
The Dark God had servants build massive stone pillars as carriers for his divine signs, while the Light God’s deeds were passed down by bards.
Unlike the inscriptions eroded by seawater, this figure has stayed clear despite the passage of time. Even the line we cracked first—'He comes from the East'—is just as sharp.
"So there are only two possibilities."
At this point, the virtual image paused.
The air in the conference room seemed to freeze; everyone turned to look at him.
They were all old monsters—the Holy Lords of the Dark Sacred Court, infamous throughout the Western world.
These were the apex predators of the entire Western world, sitting at the top of the food chain.
As Holy Lords, wherever they went, they were revered. The five of them held unmatched status, and after all these years, they'd seen their share of storms.
But hearing the virtual image talk about the Dark God, they still couldn't help but feel their breathing grow heavier.
No matter how powerful they were, they were still just mortals.
Compared to gods, humans are like ants.
They're just not on the same level.
"Go on." Seeing the virtual image hesitate, someone couldn't help but turn and urge, "Go on, I want to know what all this means."
"Nephia, all these years you've been in charge of searching for Dark God ruins, researching clues, and tracking his traces."
"No one here knows more about the Dark God than you, so stop being cryptic."
The speaker's voice was deep.
"All we know about the Dark God comes from the Black God Codex. As a deity who once ruled the entire West, his existence has always been a mystery."
Nephia continued, "This mystery is a bit like the so-called immortals the Easterners are always searching for."
"All that's left are legends. The river of time has buried the traces of the gods, but a god is still a god."
Some divine signs escaped the river of time, survived, and hid in places mortals could barely find. When I first discovered the Dark God's pillar and drew energy from it, I finally understood.
Nephia's voice was slow and steady.
"But what does this have to do with the Easterner you just mentioned?"
Someone frowned. "Are you saying that Easterner is actually an immortal from the East?"
"An Eastern immortal came to the West during the Mythic Era and destroyed our Dark God?"
As he spoke, his tone grew dissatisfied.
"I don't know what Eastern immortals are like, but the Dark God commands death itself. He wouldn't just vanish that easily. If any random immortal from the East could destroy the Dark God, then are their immortals too strong or are our gods too weak?"
"That's absolutely impossible!"
Another person spoke up, voice full of disbelief.
The Dark God is the faith of their entire Dark Sacred Court. They could accept that he perished alongside the Light God, but not that he died at the hands of an Easterner.
That would be a joke—an insult to them.
"Listen to me."
Nephia swept her gaze coldly around the room, sending out a terrifying wave of pressure that silenced Loxas Locke and the others.
"Two possibilities."
Nephia's virtual image raised her hand and gestured with her fingers.
"First, the one who left this Godscript and the portrait of that youth wasn't a Divine Thrall. The ordinary Divine Thralls who carved Godscript simply don't have the power to keep both the script and the image this clear."
Most pillars discovered before this had Godscript that was somewhat corroded—those were the normal limits of Divine Thralls. They could resist a few thousand years at most, but couldn't withstand longer erosion.
"So, the one who wrote this Godscript and left this portrait..."
At this point, Nephia's voice dropped, suddenly pausing.