Chapter 1: Blasphemy

Today was the scheduled time for the second expansion update of 《Advent》.

A full seventy-two hours of maintenance could already be considered exceptionally long, especially now, in an era where real-world resources had grown scarce.
Almost everyone had placed their hopes and attention upon 《Advent》.

At present, the second expansion update had yet to conclude.
Within the world of 《Advent》, aside from the native inhabitants of the world itself, there were no players at all.

The weather was perfect.
It just so happened to be the moment when the clouds parted to reveal sunlight for the first time.
Threads of golden radiance poured through the heavy cloud layers like drifting feathers, gently blanketing the earth below.

The man bent one leg slightly.
His long fingers casually propped against the roof of the cathedral, which was tiled with brilliant glazed panels of seven colors.
Tilting his head back slightly, he closed his eyes and quietly enjoyed the rare fine weather of Starshine City.

His golden hair shone even brighter than the sunlight itself.
It flowed smoothly down along the hem of his white cloak, the tips curling lightly around his sleeves before being casually brushed aside by their owner.

Zong Mi looked utterly relaxed.
He sat openly atop the Grand Cathedral of Starshine City, the foremost main city of the Northern Continent in the Outer Domain.
Beside him stood the statue of the Goddess of Dawn, Loria herself, while his expression remained lazily unconcerned.

The dome of the Grand Cathedral was extraordinarily tall.
Aside from the clock tower of Starshine City, there was likely no higher structure in the entire northern capital.

It symbolized the supreme status of the Temple of Dawn throughout the Outer Domain of the Advent Continent.
Every day, among the rays of sunlight rising from the Inner Domain, the very first beam to reach Starshine City would inevitably illuminate the brow of the Goddess of Dawn’s statue.

“Loria…”

He narrowed his eyes.
Within those gray pupils, streaks of crimson light flashed past like darting meteors as he absentmindedly gazed at the statue’s profile.

Loria was the true name of the Goddess of Dawn.
By now, very few people across the Advent Continent still remembered that name.
Most simply referred to her with the phrase, “Praise be to the Goddess of Dawn.”

Of course, even if those believers did remember her true name, they would never dare address the deity they adored so directly.

At last, when the sun finally emerged from behind the clouds, the people arriving before the Grand Cathedral to offer prayers finally noticed the golden-haired man seated atop the dome.

“How outrageous!
How dare you behave so disrespectfully upon the holy cathedral!”

A priest dressed in clerical robes happened to catch sight of the scene while casting Dawn divine arts.
His face instantly flushed red with anger.
He attempted several times to complete the casting gestures for his divine spell, yet somehow failed each attempt, causing his hands to tremble uncontrollably with fury.

Climbing atop the cathedral was already an act of blasphemy against the gods.
Yet this person looked completely carefree about it, which only made it more excessive.

“You… you…”

Only then did Zong Mi slowly emerge from his thoughts.
Running five fingers through his hair, he casually brushed the loose golden strands from his forehead to the back of his head.
Then, releasing the hand supporting him behind his back, he leapt straight down from the top of the cathedral.

The roaring wind surged upward from below, sending his brilliant golden hair flying wildly as though it wished to melt directly into the sunlight itself.

“I say—let there be wind.”

He spoke softly, his voice low and husky.

[Level 4 True Speech Technique / Judgment Successful]

[Level 1 Wind Magic / Gale Spell / Activated]

Azure winds rose from nowhere.
Under their master’s will, the sharp currents transformed into something as gentle as silk winding around fingers, steadily supporting the man who had been moments away from falling.

Zong Mi descended from the heavens with a smile.
His strange cloak billowed behind him, slicing through the air in sharp arcs before he landed lightly upon the plaza and gave a small bow.

“My apologies.
I meant no offense.
I was being thoughtless.”

No devout believer of the Goddess of Dawn could tolerate such an insult.
Certainly not one that was dismissed with such a casual apology.

Not even if the offender was a mage.

The priest was just about to speak when another gentle voice interrupted him.

“Charles.”

Hearing that voice, the priest reluctantly shut his mouth and turned to bow respectfully.

“Lord Cyril.”

At the end of the priest’s gaze stood a bishop clad in crimson robes.
He led a group of nuns and priests through the white fountain before the cathedral entrance, his face carrying an eternally warm smile.

The bishop clasped his hands together and offered a slight apology to the worshippers who had gathered to pray.
Only after receiving understanding and cheerful greetings in return did he calmly turn back around.

“This gentleman… may I ask who you are?”

The earlier scene had alarmed quite a few people.
Nearly everyone in the plaza had witnessed Zong Mi jumping from the cathedral rooftop.

Judging from the angle, this crimson-robed bishop must have seen it as well.

Still, since the other party had politely offered him a way out, Zong Mi was more than happy to accept it.

He had not climbed onto the cathedral dome on purpose in the first place.
It was merely an accidental landing caused by unstable teleportation coordinates.

“I am merely an ordinary adventurer who came to the Grand Cathedral to offer prayers.”

Zong Mi smiled softly, his expression harmless and innocent.

As if to make himself more convincing, he imitated the bishop’s posture and crossed his hands over his chest in a prayer gesture.
The movement looked surprisingly authentic.
Combined with his dazzling golden hair, it created an oddly sincere impression.

“An adventurer?”

Cyril’s smile paused ever so slightly.
A dark glimmer flashed rapidly through his deep blue eyes.

Zong Mi understood the source of his surprise perfectly well.

The duration of Advent’s second expansion update had been extraordinarily long.
To put it bluntly, expansion updates were adjustments to the worldline of this world itself—testing different timelines to find the most suitable point for the collective projection of human consciousness.

For some reason, although Zong Mi had not logged out during the update, he had been forced into a semi-dormant state within the spiritual world.

By the time he awakened, ten years had already passed inside the world of 《Advent》.
Even the stone pillar he had used for napping had become covered in creeping vines.

Which also meant that human players had not appeared before these NPCs for a full decade.
Given that, the crimson bishop’s astonishment was perfectly understandable.

Not only Starshine City, but the entire Advent Continent had gone ten years without hearing any news of adventurers.

Even the nuns following respectfully behind the bishop looked surprised.
The priest who had previously wanted to accuse Zong Mi also widened his eyes in shock.

Adventurers were an extremely special existence upon the Advent Continent.

No one knew when they first appeared.
Nor did anyone know when they vanished without a trace.
Yet everyone had tacitly accepted the existence of adventurers, largely because they were weak and not much different from ordinary civilians of the continent.

However, their entire race seemed to be favored by the Goddess of Life.

Because no matter how often they died, they simply would not stay dead.

“Praise the Dawn.
The goddess naturally welcomes every soul who carries light within their heart.”

Cyril quickly concealed his emotions, restoring his former refined and elegant demeanor as though the brief flash of surprise had never existed at all.

He shifted slightly aside.
After giving Zong Mi a thoroughly friendly smile and a small nod, he returned to the front of the Dawn Cathedral Plaza and skillfully began performing Dawn divine arts as part of the daily routine.

Zong Mi did not join the others in prayer.

Instead, he quietly glanced at the Shield of Dawn slowly materializing in midair, as well as the faint dark-golden glow appearing upon every worshipper, and raised an eyebrow.

This was a sixth-tier Dawn divine art—Dawn’s Blessing.

A grand blessing spell merely one step away from becoming a seventh-tier forbidden spell.

Zong Mi could guarantee that across the entire Advent Continent, there were probably not even six bishops capable of casting this divine art.
And five out of those six were likely old enough to be buried soon.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, he blended silently into the NPC crowd and followed the flow of people into the Dawn Grand Cathedral.

A crimson bishop of the northern capital capable of using such advanced divine arts at such a young age was most likely a leading candidate for the next Pope of the Temple.

There was a decent chance he might even be one of Loria’s blessed.
Possibly the very person Zong Mi was searching for.

Zong Mi’s gray eyes darkened.
As he stared at the trailing hem of the bishop’s crimson robes ahead of him, a sudden heat flared deep within his eye sockets, and crimson light flickered indistinctly within his pupils.

In an instant, the scene before him shattered apart like broken glass.
Brilliant flowing lines scattered everywhere before rearranging, rotating, and piecing themselves back together.

Zong Mi was not surprised.

He possessed a very interesting ability.

Yes—not a game skill, but a supernatural power.

His eyes could see the future.

It was a passive ability with no warning signs and no activation conditions.
It could only trigger on its own.

Moreover, the future it showed was never fixed.

These futures might happen, or they might not.
They could belong to the future of the current worldline, or perhaps to parallel worlds.
The time itself was uncertain as well—it might be a distant future, or perhaps tomorrow.

But without question, every future he observed was some inevitable outcome that could potentially be triggered if Zong Mi continued along the current worldline.

【The sunlight beyond the windows abruptly contracted.
The sky changed in an instant, turning dim and dusk-colored.

It was night now, yet judging from the surroundings, they were still inside the Grand Cathedral.

Rows upon rows of seats stood neatly arranged within the sanctuary.
Looking upward, the statue of the Goddess of Dawn still bowed her head in silent serenity.
A strand of heavenly light leaked down upon her forehead, illuminating the opal ornament there until it appeared as though the goddess herself had descended.

Of course, actual descent was impossible.
All the gods had already fallen.

He could feel every trace of magic within his body being restrained by some unknown force.
Taking a quick glance confirmed it—his entire skill bar had turned gray, the symbol of complete unusability.

Zong Mi shook his still-clouded mind.
Just as he was about to step forward and inspect this fragment of the future more carefully, an immense force suddenly slammed him against the icy railing beside the holy pool.

His wrist was tightly restrained and forcibly bent beside him.

It was an extremely dangerous posture.
But this was not the first time Zong Mi had witnessed the future, so he made no attempt to resist.
Instead, he carefully observed his surroundings, trying to uncover more clues hidden within the vision.

The man before him possessed azure-blue eyes brewing with countless deep storms within them.
Half his face remained hidden in shadow, like a ferocious beast breaking free from its cage.

That face was extremely familiar.

It was none other than Cyril, the crimson bishop Zong Mi had met earlier.

“This scene… suddenly gives me a certain thrill of blasphemy.”

Cyril stared fixedly at him.
Then he suddenly lowered his head near Zong Mi’s cheek and let out a low, heavy chuckle.

Cold fingers brushed against him before withdrawing immediately.
The man’s icy eyes were dark and inscrutable.

His breath was scorching hot.
And when he noticed Zong Mi unconsciously shrinking back slightly, the darkness in his gaze deepened even further.

By the dim heavenly light, Zong Mi seemed to glimpse the authority ring worn upon the other man’s finger.

The Half-Sun Authority Ring.

The symbolic emblem that only the Pope of the Temple of Dawn could wear.】