Chapter Forty-Nine: The Thread of Fate

Link did not linger long at the City Lord’s mansion. As the host of the All Gods Festival, Count Lothar was extremely busy these days. Link had no intention of causing him further delay, so after a brief exchange of pleasantries, he took his leave.

That night, Link sought out the three Elders once more to inquire about the True God. The prophecies had mentioned the term "True God" more than once, and now, possessing the True God system himself—especially since the system had even absorbed the power of a sacred relic—Link’s heart was filled with questions.

But in reality, the three Elders were just as ignorant. Generations of Celestial Spirit Church leaders had studied this matter, but with little result. According to ancient records from the church’s founding, the world of Solakong once had a True God—and only one—but that deity vanished ten thousand years ago. Whether the True God still existed, no one knew.

Before disappearing, it was said that the True God left behind an apostle to inherit his divine power. Only this apostle could reclaim the vestiges of the True God’s might left in the world. In the view of the Celestial Spirit Church, this apostle was none other than Link.

After hearing these stories, Link was left both astonished and suspicious. Could he truly be an apostle chosen by some True God? Otherwise, why had he traveled to this world with such a miraculous system? Or was it all just coincidence, and the True God’s apostle was someone else? Perhaps the True God never existed at all—after all, these were legends from ten millennia past, and who could say what was real?

All these doubts left Link with a vague sense of unease, as if an invisible hand behind the scenes was manipulating everything.

Yet Link did not dwell on it for long. He was no brooding hero, vowing daily to rebel against fate. Even if someone was pulling the strings, so what? Whoever could create a system as heaven-defying as the True God system was not someone he could resist. Besides, the benefits he’d gained far outweighed any harm so far. As long as neither he nor the people he cared about were harmed, he couldn’t be bothered to unravel whether his fate was preordained.

It wasn’t that Link lacked ambition; the matter was simply too nebulous. He himself couldn’t be sure his suspicions were correct, and to obsess over it would be to court unnecessary trouble.

Having no further questions, Link took his leave. The bright moon rose quietly into the night sky.

Under the same moonlight, in the town of Kinko, Remilia gazed at the object before her, a subtle and enigmatic smile curving her lips.

Before her flickered a crimson sphere, woven from countless threads, glowing with an eerie light. At first glance, it resembled a ball of red yarn, but on closer inspection, the threads were far more exquisite, as if woven from some subtle energy, giving off a mysterious, elusive aura. It was as if each thread represented a person’s possible future.

“How interesting... so very interesting. Since Neil Night left Kinko, these threads of fate have grown ever clearer. One person’s actions can tug at so many lines of destiny—even we have been drawn in. And yet Neil Night’s own thread remains indistinct, as if it doesn’t exist at all. Fascinating. This human is truly amusing. Staying here was the right choice; he’s brought me so many delightful surprises.” Remilia murmured, staring at the orb, the smile on her face deepening.

Beside her, Xingye frowned slightly and spoke, “My Lady, you’ve been using your power over fate like this for several days now. If you continue, your body won’t be able to withstand it.”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. For something this interesting, expending a little vitality is a small price to pay.” Remilia squinted her eyes with a smile. “Neil Night, just what sort of person are you? Is your fate truly nonexistent? No, that can’t be. Otherwise, so many destinies wouldn’t be entwined with yours. Maybe you’re not without fate, but rather, you are the source of all these fates… Ha! The origin of destiny, the beginning of all things’ futures—how delightful. My father once said that only the True God or the descendants of the True God, the primordial spirits of all races, could be the source of destiny. Neil Night, could you be the legendary Ancient Spirit?”

Hearing this, Xingye’s eyes lit up and she spoke eagerly, “My Lady, if he is the Ancient Spirit, then we can use his blood to save the Second Miss. Shall I fetch him?”

Remilia shook her head. “No need. It’s only a guess. Besides, I have met him many times—he’s just a human. There isn’t the slightest trace of the Ancient Spirit about him, not even a hint of their aura. Bringing him here would be pointless.” She glanced at the glowing sphere, her smile turning wicked. “Shall we try severing his threads of fate with others?”

Xingye’s expression changed, and she protested, “My Lady, you mustn’t! If you do that, you—”

“Hehe, relax, Xingye. I won’t do it. These fate threads are too tightly woven and radiant. Even cutting one would exact a price I cannot afford.” With that, Remilia laced her fingers under her chin. “Besides, our own fate threads are entwined with his, which means he may not be our enemy. As long as we don’t harm his interests, perhaps we could even become friends… Hm? Wait, what’s this?” She suddenly arched an elegant eyebrow, reaching out to stir the orb, finding many threads within that were starting to darken. Her ruby eyes flashed with a sharp light. “It seems that during the All Gods Festival in Bass City, Neil Night will encounter trouble. All those accompanying him may die. Even that Lingmeng, who could threaten me, has a shadow of death looming over her.”

“My Lady, what do you intend to do?” Xingye asked.

Remilia studied the glowing sphere for some time before her smile returned. “Very well. Since I’ve decided to establish good relations with Neil Night, I’ll do him this favor. Xingye, go to Bass City.”

“As you command!” Xingye replied reverently, then retreated into the shadows. In the next instant, she vanished without a trace, as if she had never been there.

Once Xingye had gone, Remilia turned her gaze back to the sphere, watching as the dark shadows receded rapidly from the threads. Deep within, however, one pitch-black thread remained unchanged.

Remilia’s eyes narrowed, her expression intrigued. “Xingye has gone, but the source of darkness remains just as bright. So, even if Xingye defeats it, she won’t be able to destroy it. How amusing. This little Scarlet Moon Province is truly fascinating. As if Neil Night weren’t enough, now there’s something not even Xingye can eliminate. It almost makes me want to pay Bass City a visit myself… Hehehe…”

As her bell-like laughter rang out, shadows behind Remilia in the moonlight seemed to shift and multiply. Behind her, a pair of demon wings unfurled, yet she herself showed no outward sign of change, the incongruity lending an eerie beauty to the scene.

The night passed quietly. When the sun rose again, the long-awaited All Gods Festival finally began.

Though a religious holiday, the All Gods Festival had, after centuries, become a celebration for all. From dawn, the entire city of Bass was filled with a joyful festive spirit.

Still, the religious community remained at the heart of the festival. According to incomplete statistics, more than a thousand churches were participating this year. Representatives came not only from the Scarlet Moon Province, but from across the Starry Kingdom and even from abroad. Many were there simply to gather information or go through the motions, but their presence made the already grand festival all the more lively.

As before, the festival was held in the Scarlet Moon Arena, a grand amphitheater reminiscent of ancient Rome. Built over three centuries ago, even before the founding of the Starry Kingdom, it had been restored and expanded by the Bass family over three generations. It could now seat eighty thousand at once, and all major celebrations in the province were held there.

This time, Count Lothar had opened fifty thousand spots for church members and citizens to attend. Though the arena could hold eighty thousand, for safety reasons it was never filled to capacity; opening fifty thousand seats was already a new record for the past decade.

Thus, this year’s festival was unprecedentedly grand. As Link entered the arena, he was struck by a sense of déjà vu, as if he had returned to his previous world. He recalled attending the opening ceremony of the 2008 Olympics—crowds as far as the eye could see, the air alive with excitement, and a single misstep could see one lost amid the throng.

Fortunately, religious personnel and the general public used different entrances. Link and his companions from the Celestial Spirit Church arrived early and secured seats near the front ahead of the other churches.

Watching the endless stream of people and the vastness of the arena, Elia, Saga, and Aeolus—the three children, none older than fourteen—were beside themselves with excitement, their heads swiveling in every direction. Elia, in particular, couldn’t hide her childish delight, which brought a smile to Link’s face.

Noticing Link’s amused expression, Elia blushed and lowered her head shyly. “Brother Neil, I’m sorry, I’m just… a little excited…”

Link chuckled, ruffling her hair. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m not angry. Just relax. We’re here to broaden our horizons and enjoy the festival. If we’re to enjoy it, best to let go for a while and soak it all in.”

Relieved that he wasn’t upset, Elia nodded happily and resumed her wide-eyed exploration. Saga and Aeolus exchanged grins and relaxed as well.

Just then, a cold voice rang out, shattering their easy mood. “Neil Night, you despicable apostate—you dare to attend the All Gods Festival? The great Star God will never forgive a shameless traitor like you!”

The words were loud; everyone nearby heard them and turned to look. Following the sound, Link saw a middle-aged man in white robes glaring at him coldly. Behind him stood a group of a dozen or so, all in religious attire, their eyes fixed on Link with the scorn reserved for heretics.

Emblazoned on their garments was a single, unmistakable symbol—the emblem of the Church of the Star God.