That night, the entire Northwest continent was shaken.
It wasn't an earthquake.
Earthquakes don't happen so evenly, so quietly, so... precisely.
The earth is like a folded piece of cloth, slowly tearing apart from some unseen axis.
There was no roar, no collapse, only a deep hum, as if from the depths of the world, vibrating beneath everyone's feet, echoing between the walls of every city, and stirring up delicate ripples on the surface of every river.
Then, the seawater came.
It surged forth from that newly formed crack, as endlessly as the tears flowing from the earth.
Cracks become ravines, ravines become canyons, and canyons become straits.
Overnight.
The next morning, as the sun shone again on the land, tens of millions of people living in the northwest corner discovered...
Their world has changed.
A strait more than 20 kilometers wide and more than 10 kilometers deep completely separates the northwest corner from the main mainland.
Stretching for thousands of kilometers from the icy sea in the north to an unnamed bay in the south, it resembles a scar cleaved open by a god with a giant axe, lying across the land.
Both sides of the strait are steep cliffs, as if cut by a knife.
The seawater surged in the canyon, white waves crashing against the black rock walls with a rhythmic roar.
Seabirds circled above the canyon, emitting sharp cries, as if questioning.
Who did all this?
Hoburns Palace, early morning.
Calca Bezares stood on the balcony of her palace, her long golden hair fluttering in the morning breeze, her white nightgown clinging to her body in the wind.
She wasn't wearing shoes.
She stood barefoot on the cold stone slab, her toes curling slightly from the cold, but she did not move.
She simply stood there, gazing eastward.
That is the direction where the Holy Kingdom once connected with the mainland.
Now, there is only the sea.
A boundless sea, so blue it was almost black, its depths unfathomable.
Your Highness.
The voice of Kelart came from behind, as gentle as ever, but with a rare hint of solemnity.
How long have you been standing there?
"I've been standing here since before dawn."
Calca did not turn around.
"Kelart, tell me... who did this?"
Kelart walked over to her and stood beside her on the balcony.
Her long, brown hair fluttered in the morning breeze, and her delicate face lacked its usual "hehehe" smile, replaced by a rare seriousness.
Your Highness already knows the answer.
Calca remained silent for a long time.
Is it him?
"Who else could it be but him?"
Kelart's lips curled up slightly, but there was no real joy in that smile.
"To carve open the earth overnight, to let the seawater flood in, and to form a strait thousands of kilometers long. Such power, such grandeur, such... arrogance. I can't think of anyone else but that Silver Paladin."
Calca's fingers tapped lightly on the stone railing.
He once said that the world was like a Garden to him.
"Garden..."
"Yes. The Garden."
Calca turned around, leaned against the stone railing, and gazed at the sky with her blue eyes.
He said the flowers in the Garden would grow on their own. He just needed to give them a helping hand when they were about to die.
She paused.
He also said that he likes pretty flowers.
Kelart's brow furrowed slightly.
"So, he cut open the earth, let the seawater in, and separated the northwest corner from the mainland because he felt this Garden needed a fence?"
"Maybe."
Calca lowered his head and looked at his hands.
"Perhaps he was just protecting us."
"Protect?"
"To protect."
Calca's voice was very soft.
What's on the other side of the strait?
Kelart was silent for a moment.
"Demi-humans, alien species. They almost all see us as food."
"So, he separated us from them."
Calca raised her head, her blue eyes flashing with a complex light.
"He's not helping us fight the war. He's helping us stop fighting."
Kelart stared at her for a long time.
"Your Highness, you are speaking up for him."
I'm telling the truth.
Calca turned around and looked back at the sea.
"He did what we wanted to do but couldn't. He gave us security, he gave us a country where there is no more bloodshed."
She paused.
"As the Holy Queen, I should thank him. As a woman..."
She didn't finish speaking.
Kelart did not press further.
She simply stood there, side by side with Calca, gazing at the newly born sea.
In the distance, the waves crashed against the cliffs, making a rhythmic sound.
Seabirds circled in the sky, their calls drifting in the morning breeze.
"Kelart."
"Exist."
"Pass down the order. Establish outposts along the strait. Tell the people that this strait is our new border."
"Yes, sir."
Kelart bowed slightly, turned and walked back into the room.
Calca stood alone on the balcony, gazing at the sea.
"Higashino Makoto..."
She murmured the name, a slight smile playing on her lips.
"They're practically... god-like beings..."
No one answered.
Only the waves, crashing against the cliffs again and again, seemed to be responding to her call.
In the deepest part of the Divine Capital, at the headquarters of the Temple, lies an office.
Raymond Zarg Zach Roder sat behind his desk, his hands clasped on the table, his gray eyes gazing at the emblem of the Six Great Gods on the wall.
He had been sitting like that for a long time.
So long that the candles on the table burned out, so long that the morning light outside the window turned from pale gold to golden yellow, so long that the secretary lingered outside the door countless times, yet dared not knock.
The door was pushed open.
There was no knocking.
Raymond Zarg didn't look up. He knew who it was.
Certain Death walked in.
She wore a full suit of silver-white armor, with the spear-scythe "Charon's Guidance" slung over her shoulder. Her long, black and white hair fell from the edges of her shoulder armor, gleaming coldly in the morning light.
She wasn't wearing a helmet, and her delicate, ageless face was expressionless.
"Cardinal."
Her voice was calm, but carried a rare hint of seriousness.
"You saw it?"
"I saw it."
Raymond Zarg looked up, his gray eyes meeting hers.
"A strait. Overnight, it expanded to be thousands of kilometers long, twenty kilometers wide, and ten kilometers deep."
He paused.
"No one but him could do it."
Certain Death walked to the window and pushed it open.
A morning breeze swept in, ruffling her long hair and rustling the documents on the table.
In the distance, the strait gleamed golden in the sunlight, like a silver ribbon inlaid on the earth.
Why did he do that?
A question of Certain Death.
Raymond Zarg's answer was concise and direct.
"To protect humanity."
Certain Death turned around and looked at Raymond Zarg.
"Cardinal, are you sure?"
"Sure."
Raymond Zarg stood up, walked to the window, and stood beside her.
"Look at that strait; it completely separates the northwest corner from the main mainland. What's in the northwest corner?"
"Humans, aren't they?"