The scourge of dictatorship...
[Fate] quietly gazed out the window at everything outside.
People wearing halos passed in an endless stream. The streets, once somewhat empty, were now packed.
Their faces held a happiness [Fate] had never seen, as though they had kept the warm sunlight on their faces, warmth surrounding their entire bodies.
Yet [Fate] was restless.
For in His eyes, the fates of all living beings had deviated and grown indistinct. Their predetermined paths had tangled into a mess, devoid of beauty.
And yet His ears were filled with devout praises more fervent than ever.
It felt no different from working painstakingly, only for a stand-in to suddenly appear, take His place, and claim half His authority.
Not only that, this nonexistent stand-in did a better job than Him and was more popular than Him.
How utterly humiliating!
His grip tightened around the glass, fine cracks spreading with audible snaps. At the same time, the cracks in the temple's stone statue widened further.
[Fate] abruptly rose, no longer willing to sit and wait for death.
Clouds and mist gathered above the entire city. Masses of clouds rolled and piled upon one another, black storm clouds pressing down as though they meant to topple the towering city.
At the highest point, the top of the Fate Temple was already covered by dark clouds.
Inside the temple, the Pope prostrated himself at the stone statue's feet, praying devoutly, his face utterly bewildered.
"My God, is a calamity approaching? Or have You become displeased and sent down divine punishment?"
Shadows crowded outside the window, lightning roaming like dragons.
Ye Buyu and Mu Bingge braced as though facing a formidable enemy.
Mu Bingge was already prepared to halt time at any moment and create an opportunity to escape danger.
The silver spear