Chapter 68: City of Redemption (Part 3) Selection
[Host? ]
Seeing Wen Yin suddenly wake up from her sleep, 028 said with some concern.
[Is this a nightmare?]
Wen Yin's heart sank.
[It seems you didn't detect any unusual energy fluctuations.]
[Abnormal fluctuations?] 028's voice was filled with doubt, [Not detected. Except...]
It paused, as if retrieving data.
[Except for the crystal stone above the door, about half an hour ago, there was a very brief but sharp peak fluctuation, and the brightness increased, but it only lasted about two seconds before returning to normal.]
[According to information retrieved from this world's database, this occasional fluctuation sometimes occurs at night and is generally explained as a 'holy light tide'. This is a normal phenomenon, as it is intended to cope with the stronger 'dark eclipse' activity at night.]
[Host, is there something that happened that I don't know about?]
Wen Yin stared at the crystal stone that emitted a faint light for a few seconds, and her lips looked a little pale under the cold light.
Her back was still wet and sticky with sweat. She briefly described what had just happened, and then lay back down amid 028's exclamation.
[He probably won't come again tonight.]
Wen Yin pulled the blanket, turned sideways, and faced the crystal stone with her back.
[028, Call me when it’s dawn.]
-
The bell rang three times in succession, echoing in the empty corridor, dispelling the last trace of silence left in the night and officially announcing the beginning of the day in the temple.
Wen Yin opened her eyes almost as soon as the bell rang.
A few minutes later, there was the sound of someone walking in the corridor.
Wen Yin also quickly stood up and tidied herself up. When she opened the door, her face only showed the perfect amount of confusion and nervousness of a newcomer.
She followed the other newly recruited novice nuns, washed silently, went to the dining hall for breakfast silently, and then lined up silently to go to the choir training room.
The training room was much more spacious than her room, but still towering and cold.
On the wall directly in front of him hung a huge mural, "The Birth of the Son of God", which took up most of the wall.
This painting is undoubtedly the absolute focus of the entire hall, and its presence even overwhelms all the light sources in the hall.
The main subject of the picture is the Son of God.
He is suspended in the center of the picture, his body stretched out, and an extremely strong white light emanates from his body.
The light was rendered by the painter with clever techniques, and it looks like it is really overflowing from the painting, with an almost tangible visual experience.
In stark contrast to this immense power is his appearance.
It is not the image of a mature and majestic male god, but closer to a teenager, even between a teenager and a young adult, a posture frozen in the early bloom of the most beautiful years.
He has a face that is delicate to the point of being fragile, and a youthful aura that has not yet completely shed.
Her skin was portrayed as flawless white porcelain, and her long, light blonde hair fell softly, framing her overly young, overly perfect face.
Further down, there was a slender and thin body wrapped in a wide holy robe.
His eyebrows were slightly lowered, staring at the dark and twisted earth at the bottom of the picture, which represented the suffering world shrouded and tortured by the "gray fog".
The charred earth cracked, and countless mortals with blurred faces and hunched bodies knelt on the ground, stretching their arms upwards, their faces a mixture of extreme pain and fanatical prayers.
And the Holy Son, this brilliant young god, is selflessly shining the light that can dispel suffering on them.
Looking closely, the edges of the bodies of those believers who were completely enveloped by the light seemed to begin to become slightly transparent, glowing, and even a little blurry.
It seemed to be being assimilated and decomposed by the "holy light" coming from the young man, and was about to merge into the cold light.
Wen Yin withdrew her gaze somewhat uncomfortably, but saw that the group of girls who came in at the same time were all looking at the painting with eyes of extreme awe, trance and obsession.
They looked at the radiant figure of the young man in the center of the picture, an almost sickly blush appeared on their faces, and their breathing became light and rapid.
It seems that looking at it for one more second is a great blessing, but I am also afraid that my gaze will defile that holiness.
"That's His Royal Highness the Holy Son..." someone whispered to himself, his voice filled with indescribable excitement, "Even better than the legend..."
The conversation ended here.
Because another door on the side of the training room was pushed open silently, and a middle-aged woman wearing a more solemn nun's robe walked in.
She had a serious face and strong lines. She was Sister Lorraine, who was in charge of the basic training of new recruits.
The training room, which was filled with excitement and whispers just now, suddenly became silent, and you could hear a pin drop.
Sister Lorraine's gaze passed over the heads of each girl, and finally lingered for a moment on the huge mural of "The Nativity of the Son of God". Her eyes became deeper, and there was a kind of piety that was almost harsh.
"It seems that you still have time to appreciate the holy relics?"
Her voice was not loud, but unusually clear and cold. "Perhaps I'm being too lenient with you."
The girls were silent and their bodies tensed even more.
Sister Lorraine walked slowly to the front of the training room and turned to face everyone. Her figure appeared particularly tall and oppressive against the cold light emitted by the mural.
"Kneel down," she ordered, without any further explanation.
The girls hurriedly knelt down as they were told, and Wen Yin also knelt down. The cold chill continued to come through the thin clothes.
"Today's first lesson is also a lesson you will need to remember for the rest of your lives."
Sister Lorraine's voice echoed in the empty training room, carrying a ritual-like solemnity and coldness.
"It is to recognize who you are and the source of the supreme glory you serve."
She turned slightly and pointed at the mural behind her, especially the radiant young saint in the center of the picture.
"What you see is not a painting, but a tiny manifestation of the mighty power of His Majesty the Son of God. It is the medium that allows humble beings like you to glimpse a glimpse of God's grace!"
Her tone suddenly grew stern. "But you must remember, a medium is only a medium! The true blessing comes from His Majesty the Son of God himself, not from these cold walls and paint!"
"Your almost blasphemous whispers and glances just now are a waste of the grace of His Majesty the Holy Son!"
"You are here not because you are special," she said, her eyes sweeping over each kneeling girl, "it's all because of the grace of His Majesty the Holy Son!"
She deliberately used language with an ancient accent to emphasize the sacredness and distance of this grace.
"Any impure thoughts are a stain on this grace and must be thoroughly purified!"
"Now," she said, her voice slowing slightly, but still cold, "repeat the 'Purifying Heart Vow' after me. Remember every word with your soul."
Sister Lorraine began to read in that hollow, solemn tone, and the girls hurriedly followed, their voices jagged, filled with tension and awe:
"We are insignificant, like dust and ashes..."
"By divine grace, we are near the glory..."
"Denounce yourself and purify your heart..."
"Only light remains forever, only praises follow..."
The ancient words echoed above everyone's head, intertwining with the empty and compassionate gaze of the young Holy Son on the mural.
Wen Yin knelt in the crowd, her lips moving and her eyes lowered.
-
The training lasted the entire morning.
Just as Sister Lorraine announced a short break and the girls relaxed their tense nerves a little, a temple deacon wearing a white robe with silver edges and of obviously higher status walked in.
Behind him followed two ordinary nuns with their heads lowered and their faces submissive.
Sister Lorraine immediately stepped forward and saluted respectfully: "Sir Deacon."
The deacon nodded slightly, his eyes sweeping across the group of nervous and slightly curious novice nuns in the room, and announced in a calm but unquestionable tone:
"The Holy Son has sensed the infusion of new blood into the choir. To inspire the faithful and demonstrate his grace, he will personally visit the choir hall this afternoon to listen to the newcomers sing. He will select those who meet his standards and grant them the honor of 'Singing Nearby.'"
The news was like a huge rock thrown into a quiet lake, causing huge waves in the hearts of all the novice nuns.
Although no one dared to make a noise, the sudden lighting of their eyes revealed everyone's inner excitement and desire.
What an honor it is to be chosen by the Son of God himself and to sing before him!
It means being closer to the Holy Light, more direct protection, and even... a possible improvement in status in the future!
Only Wen Yin was shocked.
The Holy Son...personally selected?
She immediately remembered the cold gaze of last night and the inhuman desire to explore that lingered on her lips.
Sister Lorraine's voice sounded again, with an unprecedented seriousness.
"Did you hear all this? This is a supreme grace! Immediately tidy your appearance and calm your mind! Prepare to greet the Holy Face with the utmost piety and purity!"
"If you neglect or misbehave in the slightest, the consequences will be unbearable!"
The break was cancelled.
All the girls were urged to rearrange their clothes, with a mixture of nervousness and excitement on their faces.
Wen Yin lowered his head, blended into the crowd, and quickly adjusted his breathing and mentality.
When he looked up again, there was only the same awe and desire for selection in his eyes as everyone else.
-
The unbearable afternoon finally passed.
Wen Yin and his group were led through several corridors with even stricter guards and finally arrived at the "Hall of the Holy Song".
This is not the main hall open to the public, but a relatively smaller but more exquisite hall.
The dome is slightly lower, and the walls are inlaid with more and brighter crystal stones. There is also a white marble platform in the center that is slightly higher than the ground.
They were asked to stand at one side of the hall, line up neatly, bow their heads and wait.
Time passed by minute by minute, and every second seemed like torture.
The invisible pressure in the air grew stronger and stronger, making it almost impossible to breathe.
Finally, the door on the other side of the hall slid open silently.
The soul-shaking pressure surged in like a tide.
All the novice nuns, including Sister Lorraine who led them and the deacon, all lowered their heads deeply and bent down, not daring to look directly at him.
The same was true for Wen Yin. She could feel her heart beating violently in her chest, and she could only suppress it with all her strength.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of those flawless bare feet again.
He did not ride in a sedan chair, but walked in slowly.
A soft yet extremely powerful light naturally emanated from his body, filling the entire choir hall and illuminating every corner with incomparable cleanliness.
The Holy Son walked past them, followed by several guards in white robes with silver edges and a deep aura.
The Son of God slowly sat down on the jade table with an elegant posture, as if he was not sitting on cold jade, but on the invisible throne of light.
He didn't say anything, but just raised his hand slightly to signal.
The accompanying bishop immediately stepped forward, his voice gentle but carrying unquestionable pressure.
"The Son of God is merciful and willing to listen to new voices. Begin, children, and offer your most devout hymns."
Sister Lorraine immediately signaled the girls to stand in the positions they had rehearsed countless times.
The organist, the old deacon from yesterday, took a deep breath and began to play.
The prelude begins.
The girls began to sing the "Hymn of Light" which they had practiced countless times in the morning.
Their voices trembled slightly due to nervousness and awe, but under the cover of holy light, this trembling actually added a sense of piety.
The singing echoed in the hall, ethereal and pure, full of praise and submission to the Holy Light.
The Holy Son sat quietly on the white jade chair, shrouded in light, and his expression could not be seen clearly.
One could only feel the vast pressure spreading steadily, as if it was "listening", or as if it was just conducting some routine "inspection".
A hymn is finished.
The girls stopped and stood nervously with their hands hanging down.
The bishop looked at the Son.
The Son of God did not express anything, and the light remained steady.
The bishop nodded slightly, indicating that he should continue.
The second hymn begins.
This time around, the girls seemed a little more relaxed, their voices more stable and blending better.
Wen Yin mixed in, precisely controlling her volume and emotional output, allowing her voice to blend perfectly into the collective harmony, neither standing out nor lagging behind.
The second song ends.
The Son remained silent.
The atmosphere became more oppressive. The girls began to feel uneasy, not knowing what this meant.
Sister Lorraine's forehead was covered with fine beads of cold sweat.
Just as the bishop was about to signal the singing of the third song, the Son of God suddenly moved slightly.
His face, enveloped in light, seemed... to turn towards the novices.
Although there was no specific gaze, everyone felt that some kind of "attention" was on them.
Then he raised his hand, and his slender fingers slowly pointed in a certain direction among the crowd.
All the light seemed to converge slightly with his finger.
The girl being pointed at was the one next to Wen Yin.
The girl shuddered violently, and her face instantly lost all color. Then she was overwhelmed by great ecstasy and fear, and almost couldn't stand.
A guard immediately stepped forward, led the girl out of the queue and brought her to the front.
The selection has begun.
The Son of God's finger moved again and pointed out two more people.
Every click made the remaining girls more nervous.
Wen Yin kept his head down, holding his breath and concentrating, reducing his presence to the minimum.
If the person who spied on her last night was really the Son of God, then no matter how she behaved today, she would be "chosen".
Sure enough, the finger did not let go after selecting the fourth person.
Instead, it paused for a moment in the air, as if sensing something, and finally, slowly and accurately pointed at her.
The cold and vast pressure focused instantly.
Wen Yin felt as if she was immersed in ice water again, and even her thoughts were almost frozen.
She didn't dare to hesitate for a moment, and immediately, like the other chosen girls, she took a small step forward, trembling slightly.
Then he bowed his head deeply and whispered in a tone of deep awe, fear and gratitude:
"Thank... Thank you for your grace, Lord Saint..."
Her voice was well controlled, trembling with a sense of flattery, yet maintaining clear enunciation.
The Son did not respond.
The cold gaze focused on her stayed for about two or three seconds, then receded like the tide and moved elsewhere.
In the end, he selected eight people in total.
The bishop stepped forward with a smile of relief that was almost fanatical.
"Supreme honor! The Holy Son has personally chosen you to serve him! This is proof of your piety and purity!"
Staying by your side?! Not just singing nearby?
This news was even more shocking than the previous "honor", and all the selected girls, including Wen Yin, were stunned.
Then, everyone's face was filled with ecstasy that almost overwhelmed them...
Entering the core of the temple is a dream that countless believers dare not even dream of in their entire lives, as it means supreme protection and status.
It also means that you are completely at the center of that cold light, with no possibility of escape.
Wen Yin's face maintained the same dizziness and gratitude as everyone else, feeling overwhelmed by the huge grace.
The bishop's voice continued to ring out with unquestionable majesty.
"From this moment on, you are no longer trainee nuns. Let go of all worldly ties and return to the temple with the Holy Son. Dedicate everything you have, including your voice and soul, to eternally serve the glory!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the Holy Son slowly stood up from the white jade chair.
The vast pressure spread again.
He didn't even glance at the chosen girls, as if he was just collecting an insignificant item.
He walked with his perfect bare feet, his body enveloped in a radiance that was too bright to look at directly, and headed straight for the gate.
Two guards in white robes with silver edges immediately stepped forward and, with an irresistible yet cold and silent gesture, signaled Wen Yin and the other eight people to follow.
There was no time to hesitate, no time to say goodbye, not even time to think.
Wen Yin and the other seven girls, like puppets pulled by invisible strings, took subconscious steps, lowered their heads, and followed the dazzling and cold figure out of the choir hall.
Sister Lorraine and the other girls who were not chosen knelt deeply on the ground, not even having the courage to look up and see them off.
When the guards in the corridor saw the Holy Son and his team, they immediately knelt down with the utmost respect.
Wen Yin walked in the team and could clearly feel the cold and smooth floor tiles under her feet gradually becoming more refined.
The reliefs on the surrounding walls grew more intricate and sacred, and the cold smell of incense in the air grew thicker.
Each door they passed through was thicker and more ornate, with more and more shimmering runes on it.
The light became brighter and purer, leaving almost no room for any shadow.
Everything here is carved out of "light", cold, perfect, yet lifeless.
They were penetrating into the heart of the temple.
Finally, the team stopped in front of a magnificent gate carved from a single piece of glowing white jade.
Energy lines flowed on the door like living things, emitting a heart-pounding pressure.
The figure of the Son of God merged into the door without any hindrance and disappeared.
The leading guard turned around and swept his cold gaze over the eight girls:
"Wait here. A deacon from the inner hall will guide you shortly. Remember, from this moment on, you are in the holy land. Be cautious in your words and actions. Every thought of yours is bathed in holy light."
After saying this, he stood aside like a statue and said no more.
The eight girls held their breath and stood still, even breathing as lightly as possible.
Wen Yin lowered her head, her eyes falling on her slightly trembling fingertips. The trembling was half a disguise, but half real.
She succeeded, and at an unimaginable speed, she directly entered the core where the strange power was most concentrated.
But she was also completely under the nose of that supreme, inhuman being.
The pure and cold light around her seemed to weigh tens of millions of pounds, pressing down on her soul and making it tremble.
Every inch of my skin felt that omnipresent, emotionless scrutiny.
[028……] Wen Yin called out in her heart.
However, deep in the consciousness there was silence.
The familiar child's voice did not sound immediately.
Only a faint "crackling" sound, as if the signal was strongly interfered with, slipped past her ears.
Her heart sank suddenly.
After more than ten seconds, a staccato, extremely lagging voice finally squeezed in with difficulty:
[…House…sustaining…strong…interference…source…]
[…Holy…Light…Forcefield…too strong…cutting off…communication…squeaking…]
[…Data…link…extremely…unstable…]
The voice was as weak as a candle in the wind and full of noise. Every word seemed to have consumed a huge amount of energy to be delivered.
[Try to…lower…your presence…]
[Energy…Shield…Mode…Active…]
As the last few words were swallowed by the noise.
028 also completely fell silent.
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