Spirit City
Several months had already passed since Bibi Dong's meeting with 'Julia'.
On the surface, everything within Spirit Hall appeared unchanged. Everyone carried their activities daily without any change.
Yet within Bibi Dong's heart—something had gone wrong.
From that day onward, fragments of the past would surface without warning. Faces, voices, scenes she had long buried clawed their way back into her consciousness. At first, she dismissed it as exhaustion.
But soon, the episodes grew frequent.
So frequent, in fact, that the Pope of Spirit Hall—who had never once allowed weakness to show—requested leave from her duties under the pretext of meditation.
----
Third Day of Leave
The silence in the papal residence felt oppressive.
Even the usual presence of guards and attendants seemed distant, as if the entire place had been wrapped in invisible cotton.
Knock.Knock.
The sound was gentle.
Bibi Dong stirred as she slowly rose from her bed.
Gone was the immaculate, awe-inspiring figure that commanded fear and reverence throughout the continent. Her robes were loosely worn, her posture slightly slouched. Strands of hair fell messily across her shoulders, no longer bound with meticulous care.
Yet she did not bother to fix herself.
It was as though her appearance no longer mattered.
There was too much weight pressing down on her mind.
The moment she saw the figure standing outside—
Bibi Dong froze.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"...You?"
Standing there calmly, as if she belonged, was 'Julia.'
The same person who had spoken to her months ago, whose words had preceded the unraveling of her mind.
A chill crept up Bibi Dong's spine as she recalled.
'I spoke with her… and then this began.'
Realization struck like a blade, fear surfaced—raw and instinctive.
Not fear of power, but fear of the unknown.
Julia smiled.
Her expression was soft, unthreatening, yet her purple eyes shimmered faintly, reflecting something deeper beneath the surface.
"Don't worry, Your Holiness," she said calmly."I haven't done anything to you."
Bibi Dong's pupils constricted.
Before she could respond, Julia continued unhurriedly—
"Your disciple has been very worried about your condition."
"But don't worry. The guards did not allow her to disturb your rest."
Those words carried an unspoken implication—
Julia had passed through the guards without obstruction.
Or perhaps… they hadn't noticed her at all.
Bibi Dong's thoughts raced, but before she could piece them together, Julia spoke again—
"Your Holiness," Julia asked softly,"when will you pray?"
The words were simple.
Yet they struck precisely where they were meant to.
Bibi Dong's heart skipped a beat.
Before she could answer, Julia had already turned away, her footsteps light as she disappeared down the corridor.
The door remained open.
Bibi Dong stood there, unmoving, her fingers slowly tightening against the doorframe.
----
Qian Renxue—did not linger.
Further stimulation would have been dangerous.
Too much pressure, and the dormant consciousness of the Rakshasa Goddess hidden deep within Bibi Dong might awaken prematurely.
And that was not the her goal.
During her talk she had imbued, psychological cues. Those were Gentle nudges, planted at just the right moments.
For this reason, Rakshasa remained unaware of the shift in Bibi Dong's mental state.
After all— Even a Goddess does not constantly gaze upon her inheritor.
-----
Later that day, Bibi Dong, dressed in a simple, unadorned gown, arrived at the prayer room.
There were no guards or attendants behind her.
The massive doors closed softly behind her.
The prayer room was silent.
At the center stood the cross-shaped monument, its surface cold and solemn. The sculpted wings spread outward like frozen judgment, while the eye at its center—half-open, half-closed—seemed neither asleep nor awake.
Bibi Dong stopped several steps away.
Her gaze lingered on that eye.
For a fleeting moment, she felt as if it was observing her—with quiet indifference.
"Why do you want me to pray?"The thought surfaced unbidden.
After her conversation with Julia earlier today, Bibi Dong had reflected for hours. Every thread of unease, every crack in her composure—
All of it traced back to that first meeting in this very hall.
Only then did she notice the details.
Three candles had already been lit upon the offering table.
Their flames were steady—unnaturally so—casting soft, elongated shadows against the walls.
Fresh flowers surrounded them: Campanula, Yellow roses, Jasmine.
The air was thick with blended fragrances, intertwined with the faint trace of several essential oils she could not identify.
The scent was calming. However, Bibi Dong frowned.
She had visited this prayer room countless times in the past. It had never felt like this.
"It feels different…" she murmured.
A faint chill brushed across her spine.
Yet Bibi Dong had no knowledge of mysticism, no understanding of symbols, rituals. She dismissed the sensation as fatigue—another side effect of her unstable emotions.
Suppressing her thoughts, she straightened her back.
If this was a test—She would face it head-on.
Bibi Dong stepped before the altar.
She clasped her hands slowly, fingers interlocking.
Her eyes closed.
The words of prayer—phrases she had heard countless times spoken by believers in Spirit Hall—rose naturally to her lips.
She recited in a low, steady voice:
"The Almighty Angel Goddess,who gazes upon this land from afar…"
The moment the words left her mouth—
The air shifted and the scent of flowers deepened, becoming sharper, more distinct.
The candle flames flickered once, then stilled as Bibi Dong finished her prayer
----