Kingdom Building Game: Starting Out With A Million Upgrade Points!

Imperial Capital – Grand Cathedral of the Holy Light

In the Grand Cathedral of the Holy Light, in the imperial capital of Castrellon, the air was thick with the scent of burning incense and polished oak, the distant hum of chanting priests echoing through the grand halls.

At the very center of the sanctum, beneath a massive domed ceiling etched with celestial sigils, Head Priestess Isode knelt before the Holy Transmission Crystal—a crystalline monolith that pulsed faintly with divine energy.

The air shimmered around the crystal, and a soft chime resonated through the chamber as the transmission connected.

A ghostly blue-white image of a priest flickered into view, his face shadowed beneath the hood of his white-and-gold robes.

"Head Priestess Isode, we bring word from the branch at Ralford's Shores. We have observed suspicious activity at the docks. Some men, whom we are certain serve House Ralford, have been seen escorting a hooded figure through Stormwake Passage toward the Drowned Lantern Wharf under the cover of night."

Isode's deep purple eyes narrowed slightly at those words. Stormwake Passage—a narrow, winding street known for its hidden alleys and old stone bridges—was a favored route for smugglers.

And the Drowned Lantern Wharf was notorious for its history of illicit dealings, a place where unwanted eyes conveniently "disappeared."

She exhaled softly, fingertips grazing the cool surface of the crystal. "You have done well. Relay these findings to the Imperial Knights stationed at Azure Tide Watch. Let them act accordingly."

The priest on the other side bowed his head. "As you wish, Head Priestess."

The transmission flickered and then snapped into darkness, the soft hum of divine energy dissipating into the silent sanctum.

Isode rose to her feet, a pensive frown settling on her lips.

A soft shuffle of footsteps echoed through the sanctum, breaking the solemn silence of the holy chamber.

A raven-haired, violet-eyed young woman, clad in pristine white robes embroidered with gold, approached. The candlelight flickered against the marble pillars, casting elongated shadows as she halted a few paces before Head Priestess Isode.

Her hands were clasped before her chest in reverence, but there was a weight upon her brow, a hesitance that did not belong to a mere supplicant.

"Head Priestess," she spoke softly. "I beg your forgiveness if I speak out of turn, but… do you truly believe this course of action to be just?"

Isode turned from the Holy Transmission Crystal, purple eyes settling upon her subordinate.

"Explain yourself, Sister Siria," she said, her voice steady, commanding.

Siria exhaled softly before speaking, her grip upon her robes tightening.

"The Holy Church has ever stood above the squabbles of lords and kings, untainted by the ambitions of men. Never have we involved ourselves in the pursuit of treacherous nobles, nor lent our aid to the Empire in matters of political strife." Her gaze flickered with concern. "To act otherwise now may sow the seeds of enmity against us. Are we prepared to bear such a consequence?"

A slow breath escaped Isode's lips, her gaze turning toward the flickering candlelight.

"This is no mere matter of politics, Sister Siria," she said. "This is a matter of divine will. His Majesty is likely the one foretold in the prophecy of the Holy Empire—the chosen of the heavens."

Siria's violet eyes darkened with doubt. "Are you certain?" she asked, her voice softer now. "Or is it your heart that speaks, not the will of the gods?"

A sharp silence followed.

Isode's expression did not waver, but there was a small shift in her stance, a faint stiffening of her shoulders.

She implied Isode was acting off personal feelings instead of divine will.

"You overstep, Siria," she warned, though her voice did not carry seriousness.

Siria, undeterred, held her gaze. "I have watched you, Head Priestess," she said, stepping forward carefully. "I have seen the way your very presence has altered since His Majesty last stood before you."

Isode's lips pressed into a thin line.

Siria's voice dropped lower. "You trembled before him, did you not? Your breath caught, your body betrayed you. You sullied your undergarments, your womanhood shamefully soaked, leaving proof of your longing pooled beneath you."

"Now, whenever you pray, you seem… distracted."

A sharp intake of breath.

Isode's cheeks turned crimson.

"That was—!" She bit off her words, her breath coming shallow, before she straightened, taking a calming deep breath. "That was not what occurred, and you would do well to watch your tongue."

Siria, sensing she may have struck a nerve, inclined her head in a slow bow.

"I meant no disrespect, Head Priestess," she murmured, "but I fear your heart sways your judgment more than you wish to admit."

A silence stretched between them, taut as a drawn bowstring.

At last, Isode turned away, exhaling sharply. "Then let time be the judge of my actions," she said coolly.

She closed her eyes, steeling herself. "Now leave me, Sister. Your words have tainted my thoughts. I must seek the Goddess's guidance and cleanse myself of such impurities."

Siria bowed deeply.

"As you will, Head Priestess," she said, before retreating into the dim corridors of the sanctum.

Isode remained still, yet the embers of lingering shame and frustration burned within her chest.

The echo of her footsteps was soft against the polished marble floors of the sanctum as she too began to walk away. Her steps echoed softly, yet to her, it may as well have been thunderous.

Each step carried her away from Sister Siria's prying words, yet her thoughts refused to grant her the peace she sought.

'Was she right to question me?'

The doubt lingered at the edges of her mind, but it was not what consumed her now. No, what consumed her was him.

Her purple eyes fluttered shut for a moment as her thoughts drifted—to that day Arkanos called forth Abaddon and made him kneel.

The day His Majesty, the Emperor, stood before her, his presence like an all-encompassing force, one that demanded the full attention of all in his presence.