The Glory of the Chief Gods
Three thousand years slipped by like a gentle breeze.
In the Alpas Empire, a steady stream of people flowed into the cathedral. Many nobles and commoners had come to worship.
In the morning light, they reverently sprinkled holy water. In dark little rooms, they stepped over sacred flames, their mouths praising the great Lord, Lincoln.
In a secret chamber deep behind the cathedral's idol, accessible only by a winding passage, a crowd had gathered. Men and women, young and old, were all dressed in finery. From time to time, someone else would push open the door and either sit alone off to one side or join a small group and start chatting.
The door seemed extraordinarily heavy. Even those who were powerfully built broke out in beads of sweat as they pushed it open.
"Saros, you finally made it! We thought you weren't planning to enter the Divine Plane for training this time!" A slender young man in a pale moon-white robe patterned with intricate designs smiled at the burly man in iron armor who had just entered.
The man wiped the sweat from his brow and panted roughly. "That door's made from a stone found only in the Divine Plane. It's really strange—using divine power just makes it heavier, so I had to force it open with brute strength. Troy, if I weren't planning to train in the Light Divine Plane, how would you have seen me? I've made up my mind: this time, I'm staying there until my three hundred years are up!"
A poised, intelligent-looking beauty beside Troy smiled. "That's because your understanding of the laws isn't deep enough, Saros. If you could use the laws while pushing the door, it'd be much easier. But this is probably a test Tru