CHAPTER 189: EX 189. GOD’S TEMPLE II

Far away, back in the Federation’s beating heart, the halls of governance carried a different tension. Inside a chamber vast enough to echo a pin drop, the Governor sat before four of the mightiest figures alive: the Golden Arbiters.

Abraham and Sarah, the aged couple whose strength still defied time. George Franklin, an old powerhouse whose very stance carried the weight of mountains. And Christopher Benjamin, the quietest of them, but no less lethal.

They all stood as Governor Akira entered. Despite being the youngest in appearance, his presence dwarfed even theirs. With a faint smile, he gestured them to sit.

"I’m glad you all could make it."

It was George who spoke first, bowing his head with respect.

"It is our honor to be in your presence, Governor."

The others nodded in agreement, their expressions solemn.

Akira studied them for a long moment. Then, he sighed. It was not the sigh of a leader feigning weariness, it was the sound of exhaustion itself, the burden of carrying truths too heavy for most men to shoulder.

"This trust," he said quietly, "is what makes what I’m about to say far more difficult."

And with that, he began to speak.

He told them everything he had told Leon.

The words fell like stones in still water, and the ripples that spread through the chamber left even the Golden Arbiters shaken. Their shock was not the wide-eyed kind of lesser men but the silent, soul-deep tremor of those who had seen too much and yet knew they had seen nothing compared to this.

****

The chamber was heavy with silence, the air weighed down by the truth Akira had revealed, one year left before the end of their world. The Arbiters, paragons of authority beneath the Governor himself, sat in grim contemplation. None dared to break the stillness, until Abraham exhaled slowly, his broad shoulders stiffening as he found the courage to speak.

"Governor," his voice echoed through the chamber, steady but tight with unease, "what is the plan for this impending doom?"

The words carried what all four of them were thinking. None of them were fools. The decline in Akira’s leadership over the years had been no mystery, his detachment, his reluctance to handle the Federation’s burden, leaving most decisions to them. At first, they had suspected arrogance, then weariness, but Akira’s silence had always hinted at something deeper. Now, with the revelation of his divination, the truth aligned clearly before their minds: it had been hopelessness.

For years, the Governor had already accepted fate. Left to himself, he would have allowed the world to crumble, waiting in quiet resignation for the inevitable. But now... now he had spoken to them of it, shared the secret he had hidden. That meant only one thing.

He had found a way.

Abraham’s voice was the vessel of their collective thought, but all eyes fixed on Akira, waiting. The Governor, ever composed, finally leaned forward, his presence filling the chamber not with despair but with renewed gravity.

"Our hope," he said, each word like stone striking the surface of still water, "lies with the heir of the Kael Domain of the Eastern Sector... Leon Kael."

Silence. Pure and utter silence fell again, thicker than before. Abraham and Sarah exchanged glances of confusion, brows furrowed as if they had heard a name pulled from obscurity. Benjamin, unable to contain his thoughts, muttered aloud what the others felt:

"Leon?"

The word hung awkwardly in the chamber.

George, however, did not share their confusion. His gaze sharpened, memories stirring, and then a realization crept across his face. ’So that’s why...’

His thoughts turned back to that single encounter, that peculiar weight he had sensed around the boy. Could this, be the very reason behind the Governor’s strange, obsessive watchfulness all this time?

There was a reason the others had never heard of Leon. The Arbiters lived in a realm far above, detached from the everyday affairs of nobles and cadets. Their focus never lingered on trivialities. And Leon Kael, in their eyes, had been trivial. Too young. Too insignificant. Not worth their notice.

But that was about to change.

Akira had spoken the boy’s name into the heart of their council, tying it to the salvation of the world. From this moment onward, Leon Kael would no longer be an overlooked heir, but the focal point of their collective attention.

The Governor’s lips curved into something that was not quite a smile, nor a smirk, it was resolve.

****

The altars were the gateways. They weren’t just stone platforms carved with glowing runes, they were living nexus points between the trial world and the Trials. Every trial taker had an altar etched into their soul from the moment of awakening, invisible yet absolute. It was through that inner altar that the first trial opened, the personal gate into the forest of beasts. But the physical altars scattered across the lands were far more merciless.

To claim one meant more than stepping through. It meant cleansing it. Every beast lurking within its domain had to be cut down, the guardian at its heart had to fall, and only then could the trial taker stand before the altar, place their hand upon its core, and bind it. Ownership meant access, direct entry into higher trials and the recognition of strength.

And right now, God’s Temple, a D-rank, Tier VII altar was alive with blood and chaos.

Racheal stood at its center with her band of elves, silver hair whipping against her cheek as she loosed another arrow that split the throat of a snarling beast. But these weren’t the tier-less creatures that plagued the outer forests. No, the monsters of God’s Temple bore strength that could break armies. Their auras pressed down like storms, each creature ranging from mid-B rank to low-A, far beyond what most in the mortal zone could even dream of challenging.

An ogre-like brute, its skin plated with jagged scales, swung a club thick enough to shatter trees. The impact cracked the altar’s marble floor as Racheal’s vanguard was hurled back, shields splintering. Behind her, an elven mage muttered a spell, light cascading into spears that shot forward, pinning two winged beasts before they could dive into their flank.

Racheal didn’t flinch. Her emerald eyes glowed with resolve as she raised her bow again, her aura flaring, forcing the tide of beasts to hesitate for a heartbeat. Around her, her cohort moved in practiced formation, blades flashing, chants ringing, arrows soaring. But the truth was heavy in every breath they took.

This wasn’t just a battle for survival. This was a battle to claim God’s Temple itself.