Chapter 82: The God’s Holy Scripture and Kingdom

Chapter 82 The Divine Scripture and the Kingdom

The seven days promised by the Lord passed in the blink of an eye. Li Lanyin, as agreed, traversed every inch of land tainted by curses, removing the curses brought by the Father of Maledictions and leaving behind hope and life sprouting and flourishing where she walked as the deity's representative.

During this time, Kurt, a priest of the Crowned Peacock Snake Tribe dwelling in the River of Fate, also sensed countless twisted fates returning to their proper course, thus noticing Li Lanyin’s presence.

Upon learning that Li Lanyin was a devoted follower who had willingly sought to serve fate and was a newly accepted high-level ability user under their Lord, Kurt’s attitude swiftly turned warm and welcoming.

Despite their vastly different races, ages, and life experiences, the two Fate Believers quickly bonded over their shared faith, engaging in pleasant conversation.

Kurt even generously took out the sacred text of fate he was compiling and shared it with his newfound companion.

Li Lanyin accepted the manuscript with both hands, her work-roughened fingers lightly tracing the pages.

It was evident that Kurt had taken great care to preserve these papers—showing neither crease nor dog-ear. The thick, high-quality parchment was neatly bound together, adorned with the ornate calligraphy Kurt had honed as a priest.

Yet numerous pages remained blank.

Li Lanyin couldn’t help but feel surprised. Given Kurt’s piety and meticulousness as a priest, this seemed uncharacteristic—what many clergy would consider "negligent."

Noticing Li Lanyin’s lingering gaze on the empty pages, Kurt flushed slightly and quickly explained, “Our Lord shows little concern for the scripture’s compilation, and the guidance I receive is sparse. So, there are still many gaps waiting to be filled.”

In truth, Kurt was understating his explanation.

Every time Yi Fengchu received his prayers and inquiries, his responses were exceedingly permissive—noncommittal responses like “Fine,” “Whatever you think,” or “Your call” were the norm.

It was so lenient that it almost made Kurt uneasy.

At times, he longed for his Lord's stern rebuke or rigorous demands, if only so he could strive harder to fulfill them and repay his Lord’s grace…

Thus motivated in part by a desire to prove himself to his Lord, Kurt frequently pored over myths and chronicles from various lands while also responding to rituals directed at the divine beings of the River of Fate.

He delighted in visiting every place rumored to harbor myths and in conversing with every learned scholar.

From ruins, mountains, deserts, sunrises, sunsets, and even passing remarks, he pieced together fragments of “fate.”

—It was like Kurt's personal pilgrimage, a journey toward the savior he believed in.

Then, he wove these traces into the scripture, painstakingly weaving the glory of the Lord of Fate—resplendent and glorious.

Li Lanyin read aloud the prologue of the manuscript:

“He is the embodiment of all symbols of fate and reincarnation.”

“In the myths of the mortal world, He is the World Serpent encircling the earth, the eternal Ouroboros, the master of prophecy, the King of Snakes…”

“The crown upon His brow, and thus the once-chaotic threads of destiny now follow clear paths, guiding creatures to their beginnings and ends.”

“The scepter in His hand, and thus the once-formless river of time now bears distinct coordinates and anchors, that no soul may stray between its banks…”

“All living beings shall arrive at His feet at the end of fate—and the Lord promises that all who harbor hope shall be granted fate’s metaphors and time’s secrets, entering a new cycle within His love and mercy.”

Li Lanyin read for a long while, nodding approvingly.

She could see that the current Lord of Fate remained indifferent toward establishing a faith system or managing a church—

Yet the Lord's indifference didn't mean He shouldn't have one.

A deity could act as they pleased, viewing mortal glory as passing mist, but those who served Him dared not show indifference to His glory and reputation.

If it reached the point where the deity had to explicitly voice His needs to receive something, wouldn’t that be a dereliction of duty by His servants?

Before formally meeting Kurt, Li Lanyin had worried whether the other followers of fate lacked the knowledge and experience to properly serve a deity, perhaps even neglecting their Lord.

Fortunately, she now saw the fervent spark in Kurt’s gaze and understood that the Lord of Fate had many more devoted and attentive believers.

After carefully reading the scripture, Li Lanyin solemnly closed the manuscript and lavished praise: “You’ve put great care into this. I believe the Lord will cherish it, and may He grant you recognition and reward.”

Hearing this, Kurt’s smile grew genuinely radiant, his trailing peacock plumage lifting ever so slightly in his excitement.

He replied humbly, “Yet, the Lord’s power is as vast as the ocean, and I can hardly fathom or portray its entirety.”

“So, there is still much room for improvement…”

Li Lanyin then pointed out a few details, after more praise, she continued, “I have a question for you. The prologue states that the Lord promises all who harbor hope—does He favor such followers?”

Kurt nodded. “Once, during prayer, I asked the Lord why He saved me at my lowest ebb, and His answer was…”

He paused, placing a hand over his heart as if feeling his devout blood pulse.

His voice softening, as if recalling the deity’s gentle voice, he continued, “The Lord said, ‘Because even at the end, you still held hope.’”

“So I believe this may indeed be His preference—He favors and admires hope-bearers. As long as living beings do not abandon their fate, fate will never abandon them.”

“I understand.” Li Lanyin said, profoundly moved.

Among the gods, each deity had their own preferences, setting implicit standards for their followers.

For instance, Death favored slaughterers, Truth's Fallacy esteemed learned sages, the Tree of Life favored life-bringers, and the Goddess of Misfortune adored ambitious schemers and honey-tongued tricksters…

Yet the Lord of Fate declared that He would answer all who held hope.

Such boundless mercy and compassion!

After a pensive moment, Li Lanyin smiled at Kurt and sighed, “Let us praise our Lord’s mercy.”

“Praise fate!”

Their voices merged—one dulcet, the other time-roughened—yet harmonizing perfectly.

From this moment onward, the two leaders among the Lord of Fate’s followers exchanged a smile, truly achieving understanding and harmony.

Bound by faith, they swiftly built trust and friendship.

But what the two followers didn’t know was that when Yi Fengchu had received Kurt’s inquiry, he had been napping at his desk.

Hearing the prayer murmuring in his ear, he rubbed his face, blearily opening his eyes just in time to see the word “hope” printed on a nearby milk carton. So, he casually comforted his seemingly despondent follower—*Because you still held hope.*

After uttering those words, he forced himself to stay awake long enough to hear the prayer before his head thudded back onto the desk, sinking into deep slumber—even leaving a crack in the wooden surface.

Had Yi Fengchu known that his offhand remark would later become an official criterion for followers, he might have found it absurd.

Yet, absurd as it was, it also felt fitting.

Because fate, indeed, always guides a way forward for those who hold hope.

…

Even having taken a shortcut by hijacking a dungeon, designing and constructing a divine kingdom from scratch was no easy task.

Yi Fengchu worked day and night for several days, finally completing the construction of the Divine Realm just before the seven-day deadline, then summoned his Gatekeeper to enter it.

Li Lanyin had long awaited this moment.

She meticulously combed her hair streaked with black and white, repeatedly ensuring that every detail—from her attire to her posture and etiquette—was flawless. Even the black coffin on her back remained silent, countless pale limbs retracting into the darkness deep within, to appear neat and dignified.

Only after confirming everything was perfect did Li Lanyin steady her surging emotions and step into the Divine Realm of the Lord of Fate.

Upon first setting foot in this sacred land, Li Lanyin felt the powers of fate and time envelop everything like tranquil yet unrelenting waves—gentle yet unyielding in their dominion.

What first greeted her was the towering spire rising from the heart of the Divine Realm.

Elegant, clean lines outlined the pristine white tower, wrapped in the coils of a majestic serpent, its body spiraling upward alongside the spire, reaching toward the heavens.

And above, where the serpent gazed, the dome of the Divine Realm held neither sun nor moon, nor any distinction between day and night. Instead, it was eternally bathed in a mysterious, silvery haze.

Only a single disc hung in the sky, its golden hands (one short, one long) like swords pointing in all directions, ceaselessly rotating at a steady pace around a point high above the tower’s peak—

This was a colossal clock face, governing the flow of time within the Divine Realm and signifying its master’s authority over the domain of "time."

Li Lanyin gazed up at this sight for a long while, her eyes lingering on the white tower.

The serpent’s carving was so exquisitely lifelike—every scale distinct, its pupils slightly contracted, lifelike—that at first glance, Li Lanyin nearly mistook it for a living creature, even… perhaps another incarnation of her Lord.

This made her breath hitch for a moment, until she realized it was just an astonishingly lifelike sculpture and exhaled in relief.

The entire Divine Realm centered around this serpent-coiled white tower, surrounded by concentric circles of white walls extending outward, with gaps between them like pathways.

‘Rather than roads, this seems more like a pure white maze…’

A doubt flickered through her mind, but then she reconsidered, ‘No, I understand. These are indeed paths—just not meant for people, but for the winding, slithering serpent.’

No wonder the pathways curved so fluidly.

The entire space was dominated by silver and white, radiating a resplendent holiness, yet its stark minimalism lent it an ethereal, dreamlike mystique.

This was her Lord’s domain…

Li Lanyin thought in awe within her heart, then followed her Lord’s guidance to the edge of the Divine Realm.

Standing at the boundary, she could faintly hear the rush of the River of Fate, originating and flowing beneath the Divine Realm.

Here, at this roaring border, she sat upon the ground. Deathly black mist spilled out from the seams of her coffin, thick and chilling, swirling and coalescing around her until it formed a grand, imposing black archway.

The hunched figure of the old woman leaned against the black arch, motionless, as if an eternal statue.

"The sacred spirit of death stands guard at the borders of the realm of fate. All who come to pay homage must first pass through the gate of death, reborn through piety…"

"Should any impious dare trespass, they shall behold the shadow of death."

Within the River of Fate, Kurt caught sight of Li Lanyin’s figure. Picking up his pen, he wrote a new chapter of the sacred texts with satisfaction.