Hand in hand, Beacai led Isis into the Church of Life.
At the heart of the church lay a vast pool of blood. From its edges, several crimson rivers branched out, snaking their way into the darkest recesses of the sanctuary.
The air hung heavy with the sweet, metallic tang of blood. To Beacai’s devout followers, this scent was like a life-giving rain in the desert. A profound sense of contentment blossomed within them, painting their faces with expressions of pure bliss.
Numerous devotees gathered around the blood pool. They extended their already cut arms, allowing their own fresh blood to trickle from their limbs and fall into the crimson depths below.
Afterward, they would withdraw their arms, clasp their hands together, and offer silent prayers.
No one knew what wishes they whispered, but a faint blush bloomed on their pale cheeks, and the happiness on their faces deepened further. Yet, to Isis, this sight seemed utterly morbid.
However, given that Beacai was a malevolent deity and this was her Church of Blood, such a spectacle was hardly surprising.
Releasing Isis’s arm, Beacai stepped before her, spreading her arms wide and spinning once. Her pristine white skirt billowed out like a blooming flower.
“Look, Mother, this used to be my mother’s Church of Life. Now it’s the Church of Blood. Though the names are different, the doctrines should be quite similar, since I learned everything from Mother.”
“Of course, I’ve also infused some of my own ideas into the doctrines. You might not agree with them, but that’s how we distinguish between life and blood, isn’t it?”
Like a child showcasing her most prized possession, Beacai intently watched Isis’s face, yearning for even a flicker of praise.
Yet, she noticed Isis seemed entirely oblivious to her words, her gaze instead fixed blankly on the pointy-eared believers gathered by the blood pool.
Though a hint of disappointment flickered in her eyes, Beacai did not react. She merely clasped her hands behind her back and silently returned to Isis’s side, explaining softly, “Those are elves who worship the Church of Blood.”
‘Worship… the Church of Blood?’
Isis paused, then her beautiful eyes lowered slightly as understanding dawned upon her.
Elves were a race she had created. When she was still a deity, the Church of Life would grant them sanctuary, and thus their faith would solely be directed towards the Church of Life.
But now, with the Church of Life in ruins, some elves had begun to abandon their original faith in search of survival, choosing to worship other churches.
Even if that church belonged to a malevolent deity.
She understood their actions, but a wave of sorrow still welled up in her heart. If she were still the Yggdrasil of old, they would never have needed to seek refuge with other gods.
“Mother, aren’t you angry? They betrayed you. Just say the word, and I can kill them for you.” Beacai tapped her seductive lips with a finger, her voice laced with a hint of temptation.
“No,” Isis blurted out without a moment’s thought.
“Why not?”
Beacai seemed puzzled. In the eyes of many gods, believers who betrayed their faith deserved death, let alone those who had betrayed her own mother.
The only reason she had spared them was to await her mother’s return, so she could personally decide their fate.
Isis did not know what Beacai was thinking. She silently observed the elves kneeling before the blood pool, her gaze gradually softening, like an elder watching over their descendants from afar.
“The choice of faith is their freedom. Their happiness is paramount. As for me… I am already dead. I can no longer protect them.”
She harbored a deep affection for the elven race. She did not wish to see them fall into a crisis of survival; such a sight would pain her greatly.
“You love them, don’t you?” Beacai suddenly asked.
“…They are my created children.”
As Isis spoke these words, she fully expected Beacai to erupt in anger again, and mentally prepared herself to be controlled by the thorny bloodstains. To her surprise, Beacai merely chuckled softly.
She walked over to face Isis, placing a finger to her lips, and smiled as if sharing a secret:
“Actually, some elves who still worship the Church of Life also live in this city, you know. I didn’t drive them away. Instead, I gave them a home and allowed them to uphold their faith.”
“And if they need it, the followers of the Church of Blood will help them as much as possible, so they can live better lives in this city.”
This time, it was Isis’s turn to be surprised and perplexed. Allowing believers of another god to live in her city was not typical behavior for a malevolent deity, nor even for most ordinary gods.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because they are Mother’s believers, of course.”
Beacai blinked, seemingly not understanding why Isis found this confusing. To her, it was perfectly normal to have a different degree of tolerance for her mother’s followers.
“I love Mother, so of course I’ll be kind to your believers. And I’ve even treated them just as Mother treated her followers: with tolerance, gentleness, and kindness. I won’t dwell on any mistakes they make.”
“They love you very much, so they must love me a lot too, right?”
One hand resting on her chest, her eyes were filled with an adorable smile.
Over the years, she had emulated the Isis of her memories, treating the elves in the city kindly, providing them with homes, forgiving their mistakes, and occasionally bestowing divine blessings to heal their ailments.
After all these years, they must surely love her as deeply as they loved Isis.
Just thinking about this filled her with an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. And since these were Mother’s believers, Mother would surely praise her for it…
Just a little bit, she only needed a little bit of love…
While she was lost in her sweet reverie, a black-robed elf, who had been kneeling by the blood pool, slowly rose to his feet.
He began to walk towards them, seemingly without purpose. But as he drew nearer, he suddenly lunged, appearing behind Beacai in a flash of movement.
A dagger plunged into her heart!
The blade, glinting with cold light, pierced through her pristine chest. Its silver surface was now streaked with crimson, and her pure white divine gown became instantly soaked with blood.
Beacai’s expression froze, and her every movement ceased.
Seeing his attack succeed, the elf assassin released the dagger, preparing to sprint towards the church’s main doors.
“Your Eminence!”
The air inside the church solidified for a few seconds. Then, the bishop, who had been standing not far from Beacai, reacted. His pupils constricted as he roared, then swiftly moved to intercept the elf assassin.
However, the elf assassin was no match for the bishop. After just a single exchange, he violently spat out a mouthful of blood, was grabbed by the collar, and lifted off his feet, completely losing all ability to fight.
The black hood fell away, revealing a young elven face.
Aside from the pallor caused by his recent injury, his aura was calm and steady, carrying the rich scent of forest and nature.
This immediately told Isis that he was a believer of the Church of Life.