Chapter 664 - 66: God’s Bloodline

Chapter 664: Chapter 66: God’s Bloodline

The Kronos Plane.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

The gray-white light at the edge of the fissure churned violently. Each strike shook loose several strands of pale gold thread.

Tiny beads of sweat formed on Mira’s forehead, sliding down her temples and dripping onto the collar of her white robe.

Her fingers were trembling.

But the light in her palm did not waver.

One by one, the scattered threads reconnected. One by one, they tightened.

The edges of the fissure slowly closed in her hands.

After what felt like an eternity, the thumping finally stopped.

And under Mira’s effort, the fissure healed completely.

She withdrew her hand, turned, and knelt to look Sera in the eye.

"See? It’s all right now."

She tucked a few strands of Sera’s wind-tousled bangs behind her ear. A faint golden shimmer lingered on her fingers as she offered a faint smile.

Sera blinked, her eyelashes still wet with panicked tears. She sniffled.

"Is it closed?"

"It’s closed."

"It won’t open again?"

"No, it won’t," Mira said with certainty.

Sera reached out and touched her sister’s forehead. "You’re sweating, Mira."

"Mm, it’s a little warm."

"You’re amazing, Mira. You closed Ephialtes all by yourself."

Mira smiled.

"Come on, let’s go home."

She stood up and took Sera’s hand.

"Mira, the bowl."

Mira smiled and waved her hand. The bowl and tray vanished.

"I’ve put them away."

Below the high platform was a gentle slope covered in knee-high grass.

The tips of the grass were yellow, but the stalks were still green.

A wind blew up from the bottom of the slope, pressing the blades of grass flat against the ground and revealing the dry, yellow earth beneath.

In the distance lay Eira Village, a few dozen stone houses arranged in a circle with a dirt road running through the middle.

Rows of olive trees stood at the village entrance, their leaves rustling in the wind.

As soon as Sera saw the trees in the distance, she let go of her sister’s hand and started to run.

She ran a few steps, then doubled back to pick a wildflower from the roadside. It was small and yellow, with five petals and a very short stem. She held it up to Mira.

"For you, Mira."

Mira took it and tucked it behind her ear.

The stem caught on the curve of her ear, the blossom drooping down to brush against her temple.

Sera looked up at her for a moment, nodded in satisfaction, and ran off again.

She ran ahead, her sandals pattering on the dirt road.

She stopped at the village entrance, leaning against the trunk of an olive tree to catch her breath.

A few villagers were standing under the olive trees.

When they saw Mira approaching, they went to meet her.

Leading them was an elderly man whose face was tanned a deep brown by the Sun. Three horizontal lines creased his forehead, and two vertical lines framed the corners of his mouth.

He wore a gray robe and carried a wooden staff, its head worn smooth and shiny.

"High Priest."

He stopped, placed his right hand over his left breast, and bowed slightly.

The people behind him followed suit.

Mira placed her right hand over her left breast, returning the gesture.

"Elder Darius."

"Is Ephialtes closed?"

"It is."

Darius nodded, the deep furrows on his face softening slightly.

"You have our thanks."

"It is my duty."

Sera peeked out from behind the tree, watching the adults talk.

Darius glanced toward the high platform, then looked back.

His lips moved as if he had something more to say.

"News has come from the front. The southern line has fallen back about a mile."

Mira said nothing.

The half of a head Sera had stuck out from behind the tree quickly vanished again.

"The Demigods are still holding on, but casualties are heavy. The village has already sent three groups of our young and strong. As for the youngest son of the Marcus family, sent away last month... word came back yesterday—"

Darius paused.

Mira watched him.

"He’s dead."

Darius forced out the words.

Mira was silent for a moment.

"Is there any other news?"

Darius shook his head, then nodded.

"Leander is back. He’s injured, but he’s alive. He should be waiting for you at the Holy Hall now."

Mira nodded.

She walked behind the olive tree and bent down to pick Sera up.

Sera wrapped her arms around her sister’s neck. Her legs dangled at Mira’s side, her sandals swinging back and forth.

She buried her face in her sister’s shoulder and didn’t say a word.

"You should go back and rest," Mira said.

Darius bowed once more, then turned and led the other villagers back toward the village.

Sera lifted her head from her sister’s shoulder and watched them leave.

Darius walked with a limp. His right leg took shorter steps than his left, as if a knee injury prevented him from bending it fully.

His wooden staff tapped against the stone path, the worn, shiny head making a dull thud with each impact.

The young man beside him offered a hand to help, but Darius waved him away.

Mira, meanwhile, carried her in the opposite direction.

The houses on both sides of the road were built of stone, with thick walls and small windows.

The windows were wooden-framed. A woman was crouching in a doorway shelling lentils, the dry, gray-green pods piled on the ground.

When she saw Mira, she stood up, wiped her hands on her apron, and placed her right hand over her left breast.

"High Priest."

Mira returned the gesture and continued on her way.

Sera waved at the woman.

The woman smiled and waved back.

They passed another house where an old man sat on his threshold, weaving a basket.

Olive branches were soaking in a bucket of murky water, which gave off the sour, green smell of retting.

He glanced up, set down his work, and pushed himself up on his knees to stand, placing his right hand over his left breast.

"High Priest."

Mira stopped.

"Julius, your legs are weak. You don’t need to stand."

The old man waved his hand dismissively.

"The High Priest has returned. How could I remain seated?"

Draped over her sister’s shoulder, Sera made a silly face at the old man. He didn’t see it, so she did it again.