NOVPUBEternal Theocracy.
Contrary to what most Avalonians imagined, the Eternal Pope did not reside within a brightly lit pure white palace.
White was never the representative color of the Holy Nation; it was merely the Avalonians’ imagination of order and holiness.
And there were those who might know a bit more. They knew that the Elves actually lived atop a Giant Tree, so they imagined Elves loving to embrace nature, living in lush forests.
But green was also not the representative color of the Holy Nation. Green was the color of Adaptation and Beauty, belonging to the Irisflower People.
The only color held in reverence by the Holy Nation was red.
Blood and flames. Heart and candle.
These were symbols of sacrifice and dedication.
Even if you spoke of the land alone, the Holy Nation’s territory might not span a seventh of Avalon’s size. However, the population residing within the Holy Nation exceeded one fifth of Avalon’s. Even so, the Holy Nation never felt crowded.
Because quite simply,
The Holy Nation was not a "flat" nation.
A Giant Tree reaching the skies grew on the island, occupying nearly seventy percent of the island’s area.
Legend had it that the Giant Tree voluntarily sacrificed its own heartwood, allowing it to accommodate the smaller creatures; it sacrificed its trunk to protect those fragile and perishable lives in comparison to itself; it sacrificed all its sap, granting some the blood of the immortal. And those chosen by the Great Tree to be immortal were the Elves.
It was the father of fathers, the mother of mothers of the Elf tribe.
And it was precisely for this great deed that the Giant Tree became one of the most favored Angel Envoys of the Candle Master.
—From this perspective, the Eternal Theocracy was actually a nation built within the body of an Angel Envoy.
That was why the Elves held the Candle Master in the highest regard.
Even though His spirit had long journeyed to the Dream Realm, His colossal shell left in the Material Realm still remained, constantly growing, and teeming with life. And its reddish-brown bark and trunk thus became the foundation of the Eternal Theocracy.
The Eternal Theocracy was constructed around this Giant Tree, erecting twenty-two concentric circles. All structures were, strictly speaking, "grown". They were warm in the winter and cool in the summer, resistant to rotting or moisture, and there was an endless supply of fruit for sustenance.
Even the candlelight the Elves used daily derived from the Giant Tree—they milled the sacred bark into powder to create the important material used in the candle on the Priest’s crown. In this way, as long as the holy candle was lit, it felt like home no matter where they were.
Each layer of the Great Tree was a sprawling ring-shaped city, and each layer’s environment was slightly different. Elves lived lifespans spanning hundreds of years, and many of them never left the Eternal Theocracy in their lifetimes, simply because everything they needed for living was already within the nation.
And at this very moment, on the twenty-second level of the Eternal Theocracy.
The young girl clad in a pure white robe slowly opened her eyes and rose from her bed.
She wore a white knee-length robe, stepped in white boots, and donned white silk gloves. Her hair was pure white too, as were her irises. She shimmered in the candlelight, looking like an illusion, or a ghost.
Without uttering a word, she removed her clothing. As the young girl stood and walked about, her white robe, gloves, and stockings fell to the ground of their own accord. And when she had shed all her garments, a thick, red and black robe directly materialized onto her.
The robe was adorned with intricate patterns—resembling a stag’s head and also thorns.
Black thorns then spread from the robe, climbing and embedding into her collarbones, neck, ears, and forehead. The areas covered by the robe—her back, chest, abdomen, as well as her legs and hands—were all entwined and pierced by the thorns.
The thorns seemed to be growing from within her, so harmoniously did they blend with her appearance.
But despite this, it could not possibly be painless—fresh blood dripped with her movements. It fell to the ground or stained the robe.
Yet, she ignored this as though it were nothing to her. With a serene expression, she walked toward her pure white, marble-like throne.
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As she sat upon the throne, those black thorns began to spread in all directions. It was only after they had climbed upon the throne that they finally settled down.
Her will had at last synchronized with the entire Holy Nation.
She gazed ahead, yet it seemed as if she saw through the void.
"What do you think of Aiwass, Matilda?"
She spoke thus. 𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒑𝒖𝙗.𝒄𝒐𝒎
Meanwhile, the blue-haired female elf on the thirteenth floor also began to remove her disguise as she casually replied, "I suppose... for a human, he’s quite exceptional. But that’s about it... Though it might also be because we know too little, have seen too little. Since the Candle Master is satisfied with him, we just need to follow orders."
"It’s not just the Candle Master. The Great Sage, too, has been within me, and the Eternal Self paid a visit. Even Amber used my eyes to take a glimpse... However, it’s somewhat unexpected that the Crown Lord didn’t come."
"...Amber? Why would the Old One care to visit?"
The elf known as Jacaranda, Matilda, paused slightly in her movements: "Does Mr. Aiwass still adapt to the Path of Dusk?"
She was clearly surprised that a Pillar God of the Path of Dusk took interest in a mere mortal.
Amber hadn’t moved for a long time—these days, something that could attract His attention usually involved research into the techniques of eternal life or those Transcendents who extended their lifespans through various means.
"Apparently, he used some kind of divine technique to extend someone’s lifespan. He broke the predestined death without violating the principles of the Hourglass. Amber became curious and came to take a look. If nothing goes awry, it’s probably related to the Celestial Marshal. Generally, Pillar Gods only show such concern for matters related to the Celestial Marshal."
"I guess he might be a blood descendant of an Angel Envoy, or even possibly a reincarnation."
"Do you know which Celestial Marshal it might be?"
"I suspect it’s the Butterfly Celestial Marshal since the Butterfly Celestial Marshal is inherently skilled in death and rebirth. I’ve noticed that he’s manipulating a sort of Fire Butterfly, an unknown Phantom Demon of a very high rank, which could very well be the offspring or an incarnation of the Butterfly Celestial Marshal."
"...Quite an adaptable young man. Given that, shall I personally teach him Advanced Divine Art?"
Matilda rubbed her face and transformed from a middle-aged human woman into a youthful elf in her twenties or thirties: "Also, Mr. Oswald has returned. Since you have some time, would you like to meet him?"
"No, let my Knight rest well. I am almost out of time myself."
The elven girl refused: "And about teaching Aiwass the divine techniques, let Grey handle it."
The Eternal Pope said softly, "I have a feeling that he might solve the problem Grey is carrying."
"Your divine command, Your Majesty. But we should inform Lady Grey first... after all, you’ve assumed her identity."
"Then you go, Matilda... recount everything that happened in the dream to Grey, so she doesn’t give anything away... Play the role of ’Pure White’ well. Just in case, mention it to Topaz as well... I won’t go to him..."
The Pope spoke, her voice growing fainter, as if she was getting tired: "I’m a little tired, Matilda... I need to sleep again."
"Goodnight, Your Majesty."
Matilda’s voice was gentle: "Whenever you wake, call upon me."
"Mm..."
She murmured, "If I’m still asleep by next March, wake me up..."
Before she finished speaking, the Eternal Pope, with the appearance of a young girl, tilted her head slightly, lost consciousness, and fell backward onto the throne, deeply asleep.
Her blood was being slowly but firmly siphoned by the Sin Thorn upon the throne.
This world’s ultimate sovereign, appearing no older than fifteen or sixteen, continued to change—in reverse, heading towards the age of about thirteen or fourteen.
