This place called the Holy Spirit Tower was very strange. I had no idea what it was for yet. It was astonishingly vast; looking down from the small platform high on the tower wall, its base was so deep it resembled a bottomless abyss. Yet the entrance we had used to enter the tower was a side door in a corridor near the temple's great hall. That clearly did not fit the Obsidian Palace's architectural layout, so this tower had to be the product of some sort of warped space. That was not particularly unusual. Such spatial distortions were common in godly architecture. Gifted by nature, they could casually knead spatial phenomena and mathematical logic into whatever shape they wanted. As a direct result, their buildings were full of utterly arbitrary designs. Halfway through decorating a dining room, they might suddenly remember that there ought to be a library next door, so they would punch a hole through the wall and stuff in a library larger than Buckingham Palace. Having just finished a bedroom, they might suddenly recall that the inner room needed an ecological park, so they would punch a hole behind the wardrobe and stuff in an Icebound Continent, then name it the Na〇Ya Kingdom—those freewheeling gods often built houses like that.
Oh, never mind discussing how gods built houses. I was simply curious about the purpose of this Holy Spirit Tower. Stuffing a tower taller than the palace itself into a house was strange enough, and there was even an exit at the top. Going out through it would bring you into outer space beneath a red moon, supposedly one-third the size of Earth. Do you know what that meant? It meant Viska's family had created an entire alternate world just to install a chandelier for the