Chapter 109 Liturgy of the Inverted Womb
The meeting was nearly at its end.
But as the council members began to rise, a woman's voice cut through the heavy silence—cold, resolute, and charged with a long-suppressed accusation. Her words shattered the stillness that had wrapped the grand chamber like a thick fog.
Lady Ravencia, the eldest advisor, sat upon a chair intricately inlaid with the sacred roots of the Eldra tree, its gnarled patterns glowing faintly in the dim light. She rose with a grace that belied her age; her silver hair caught the remnants of daylight like dew on spiderwebs, trembling gently with each measured movement. Though her demeanor was calm and composed, her eyes blazed with the sharp precision of a razor, patiently poised to strike when the moment demanded.
"Wait...
We have all spoken as if Serelith appeared of its own accord. But every ritual requires a gate, and every gate must have its guardian," she declared, her voice ringing clear and authoritative, commanding the full attention of the assembled nobles.
A ripple of unease passed through the chamber as several nobles exchanged furtive glances, the tension thickening the air. Hesper of Atlantis narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sought to unravel the hidden implications behind Lady Ravencia's poignant words.
"Are you suggesting that someone among us opened the path for the Black Womb?" Lord Veylen's voice trembled between anger and dread, confusion threading through his tone like a restless shadow.
Lady Ravencia's gaze fixed steadily on the empty chair at the far end of the round table—the vacant seat of Lord Kaeleros, the head of the Department of Dimensional Studies and a key architect in forging the fragile Gaia-Atlantis peace. His absence loomed like a dark stain, deepening the already suffocating tension that gripped the chamber.
"Kaeleros has been missing for six long weeks," she began, her voice steady but laced with underlying urgency. "Before his disappearance, he had personally spearheaded the investigation of the Gamma ruins buried beneath the Delphoria Monastery. That monastery—with its weathered stone walls, ancient spires curling against the twilight sky, and cryptic inscriptions etched in fading scripts—is the sole sanctuary preserving the sacred records of the Serelith's birth liturgy."
Her eyes narrowed, shadowed by the weight of her words. "He knew full well the peril of peeling back the world's womb layers. Yet, undeterred, he pressed forward—carrying the silent blessing of someone sitting here in this very room." Each syllable dropped like ice into the charged air, her chilling emphasis sending ripples through the assembly.
In that instant, the chamber's three protective glyphs—each glowing with a soft, pulsating light and braided into the ancient stone walls like veins of power—flickered and then sputtered out one by one. Darkness swallowed their eerie radiance, cloaking the room in a heavy, unnatural silence.