"When the pale radiance shines, the pact of Holy Selection shall be torn asunder."
"The king's glory shall be shrouded by dark clouds. The Tower of Divine Trust shall collapse."
Standing atop the raised platform, Gawain looked at the refugees, who were silent as cicadas in winter, and let out a long sigh. What he murmured were words that sounded like a prophecy.
"Everyone." He came back to himself, cleared his throat, and gave the refugees a dignified bow. "Thank you for coming of your own accord from across this land to my king's Holy City. I offer you my heartfelt gratitude."
"Before the Holy Selection begins, there is a fact I must tell everyone here."
"The age of humanity has been destroyed."
As Gawain spoke, the refugees remained utterly silent.
"And along with it, this tiny world we inhabit will also be destroyed."
"This is not divine judgment, but the remnants of sin, a vicious conflagration. Humanity can no longer live upon this land. I believe everyone has already come to understand this fact."
The refugees looked at one another, then all lowered their heads in silent stillness.
Yes, what Gawain said was true. They had experienced it firsthand.
If it had only been extreme heat, it would have been manageable. There were many places on Earth with high temperatures, and humanity was not incapable of surviving in a hot environment.
But crops had withered, water sources had dried up, and the dense magical energy in the air was enough to leave ordinary people in unbearable agony. Many had even undergone superficial demonic transformations, losing their minds and beginning to attack others.
These were all things they had truly experienced. If they had not gone through all of it, they would not have flocked to the Holy City in