Whispers of the Gods

Chapter 35 Nalanni III

Instead, Imnachar holds a broken sword, with his left hand holding a half-moon-shaped hilt with flowers growing from it, and his right hand grasping the blade, covered in flames.

Believers call him the "sword breaker". The sage is benevolent and peaceful, but he is not afraid of violence.

With his right hand he wards off the flames of war and destruction for his people, and with his left he brings them forgiveness, peace and prosperity.

He wears a cascading cloak that reaches the ground, and a close-fitting, short-sleeved armor bearing the arms of the Holy Day, said to be made of pure gold.On the parts of the body that are not covered by armor, the muscular muscles and perfect lines can be seen at a glance.

"Sword Breaker", the Holy King, the incarnation of the sun, no matter how many fancy names he has, he is just a mortal.

Nalani knew very well that the real Imnacha was never as perfect as the one portrayed in this marble statue.

How could he still look like a young man at the age of 45?
Although the holy king himself did not want to admit it, and hid his surname, he was still the mortal who shed the blood of Apollyon, he was still Imnacha Apollyon.

He will bleed like a normal person, have lusts like a normal person, and die like a normal person in the end.

Hearing the sound of footsteps and slight metal collisions behind her, Nalanni pressed her hand on the hilt of her waist vigilantly and turned around.

"Good morning, my child." Archbishop Gironche said kindly.

Gironsh was wearing a white silk ritual robe, with bright orange embroidered threads spreading out from his chest, imitating the dazzling sunlight.

The archbishop was slightly stooped, not very tall, with a plump body but keen brown eyes.All that remains of his hair is some remnant gray.

A silver necklace hung around his neck, and underneath was a golden sun the size of a heart.

"My lord." Nalanni knelt on one knee and bowed her head.

"How many times have I told you, you don't need to be so offended by me!" Jilongshi said angrily as he lifted Nalanni up.

"This is stipulated by the sacred law, please allow me to insist on doing this." Nalanni said.

She never let go of her guard, even against Archbishop Gironche who raised her up.

The Prophecy Knights of the Holy Empire snatched her from her parents and brought her to the Prophecy City.

They took her name away, in fact, they didn't even ask what her name was, they didn't care.

At that time, the Archbishop of Gironche was more handsome and handsome than he is now. He wore the same white and gold-patterned robe as now, smiling and speaking to her in a language she could not understand.

She was placed on the altar in the center of the cathedral, blinded by the sunlight shining through the window.

Archbishop Gironche waved the bell in his hand, jingling, jingling, chanting non-stop, and the air exuded an indescribable fragrance.

He kept talking like this, and Nalanni was so bored that when she fell asleep, she was woken up by the applause around her.

She was picked up by the happy archbishop and continued to speak incomprehensible sentences.

Gradually, Nalanni began to understand the meaning of the words, and she knew that Jironsh had given her a new name, Nalanni.

"You're still so stubborn after growing up." Archbishop Gironche narrowed his eyes, "I don't think you came to the cathedral so early to pray?"

"No," Nalanni shook her head, "I have something to ask for your help."

"Anything is within my power, my child," said Gironche.

"A few days ago, we recovered some runaway slaves in the village of the fiefdom parish of Sloheim, and took over a girl." Nalanni said, "She is seven or eight years old."

"It's exactly the size of you when I saw you back then." Jironsh raised his white eyebrows with interest, "Let me guess, this child reminds you of yourself?"

Nalanni nodded, "I want to raise this child myself."

Archbishop Gironche looked at her and said with a slightly embarrassed expression: "My child, you are the head of the Knights of Prophecy. The responsibilities given to you by the Holy King are very important, but it does not include raising these lost children."

"I understand, my lord," Nalanni said, "that's why I want her to be my squire."

"Servant?" Archbishop Girronche opened his eyes wide. "According to what you said, this child is only seven or eight years old. She can't even hold your sword."

"I have also been holding a sword since I was seven or eight years old," Nalanni retorted, "I didn't see any objection from you at that time."

"You are different, child," said Archbishop Gironche, "you are more special than other children."

"Special?" Nalanni asked suspiciously.

"I chose you because I saw something different in your eyes." Gironche explained, "There is a flame in your eyes, which has never been extinguished until now. It is a dangerous and powerful thing, but if Properly used, it can become an invincible weapon.”

"I will always remember your kindness," Nalanni clasped her hands together, "my sword belongs to you, and belongs to the holy day."

The vengeful flame in her eyes will never be extinguished until her long sword pierces the mortal chest of the emperor.

Nalanni wants to end the Holy Empire, even if it costs her life, because it will save countless oppressed souls.

"Shengjun will definitely appreciate you as much as I do." Archbishop Girronche said with relief.

"Like you, I see something special in this girl." Nalanni held the archbishop's arm with both hands, and continued to fight: "Let me cultivate her like you cultivated me. I firmly believe that she will not will disappoint you."

"I really can't help you," the archbishop sighed, "then go train her carefully, teach her to read and write and dance swords, and convert her to the righteous way. But this girl still belongs to the church, don't forget."

Nakia has suffered enough, and Nalanni just wants her to learn how to protect herself in this dangerous world.

"Thank you, my lord." Nalanni said, "Please give her the name 'Nakia' at the transfer ceremony."

"Nakia? Why did you choose such a strange name?" Jironsh asked incomprehensibly, "I've never heard of this name."

"The name is very important to me," Nalanni said.

Although Archbishop Gironche treats her like his own daughter, he will only blindly make himself forget the past, forgetting to devote himself to the self before the holy day.

She has only one real parent, and Nalanni would never hesitate if Jironsh stood in the way of her revenge with Imnacha.

"I see," Archbishop Gironche did not continue to ask, "Now that your request is finished, I happen to have something to tell you."

The archbishop walked slowly towards the stone statue of Imnachar, folded his hands and said a few prayers.

(End of this chapter)