Bercetia gazed steadily at the god before her, at that holy figure who had sheltered the vast forests and fertile river valleys of the Silver Elves until three thousand years ago, whom the druids regarded as the supreme existence. She had never imagined that one day she would stand before Him like this, facing Him calmly and meeting His gaze directly—as a druid priestess who had already abandoned her faith, she had come closer to the Nature God than any devout priest ever had.
And at this distance, what she could see far exceeded what those pious believers could see, even surpassing those ancient priests who had lived for more than three thousand years.
It was deeply ironic: those who did not believe in Him had seen Him, while those who were not devout had understood Him.
It suddenly reminded her of something from many years ago, of what her father had said when he abdicated and transferred the authority of the Throne of Dominion and the title of highest druid priest to her:
"You are the first imperial leader whose eyes have not been blinded by piety. Perhaps your eyes can see farther than all of ours."
"I understand," Bercetia said, lowering her head and speaking solemnly to Amun. "I will carry out your will—of course, no one will know that you still remain in this world."
Amun gave a soft grunt, followed by a brief silence. At last, his gaze fell upon Bercetia once more. Within that holy radiance, there was a trace of expectation in his eyes. "Go and do what you must, Silver Empress."
Bercetia bowed respectfully, then stepped back to Gawain's side. Gawain nodded to the two Former Gods present. "I'll take her back first, then we can talk again when there's time."
The visitors