310. Funeral for the Kim Troops
[ Reputation System v2.0 ]
User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim
Reputation Level: 90 — (500,564 / 1,000,900 EXP)↑
Current Reputation Points: 3040 RP↑
Titles Unlocked: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess, Beast Slayer
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“My points are finally stabilizing at a respectable rate,” Ravenna muttered to herself in silence. She stood in the center of the newly consecrated cemetery, a sprawling field of stone and memory dedicated to the troops who had perished during the mainland offensive and the recent dungeon outbreak.
The day was stiflingly gloomy. Even though the sun continued to bleed its relentless heat onto Kim Island, a heavy haze hung over the mourners.
Ravenna was dressed in a mourning ensemble that blended the island's utility with ancient religious tradition: a black sarong mini-skirt paired with a laced, sleeveless crop top. Around her, the women of the island wore similar attire. In a world where the afterlife was the direct domain of the Goddess Herptian, the funeral rites were a paradox. While the color remained a somber black, the style was intentionally alluring; even on the mainland, it was considered a grave insult to the Goddess to attend a funeral in anything that did not celebrate the beauty of the flesh she governed.
The cemetery was filled with rows of pristine tombstones, each bearing the name of a fallen soldier. At the epicenter stood a towering statue of Herptian. The Goddess was depicted in an unapologetically erotic pose: arched back, one hand trailing down her own thigh while the other reached toward the heavens, her stone features locked in a permanent expression of divine ecstasy.
The priests and the gathered crowd stood in a heavy, respectful silence as Ravenna ascended the small stage set before the monument.
“Today, we are gathered to pray that our fallen heroes reach Herptian’s embrace without distraction,” Ravenna began. Her voice carried across the field, bolstered by the Seal of the Archbishop she now bore. It granted her a religious authority she hadn't possessed as a mere Apostle, allowing her to lead the religious rituals now.
“They fought with unwavering valor to protect our people. Though I acknowledge my own shortcomings in being unprepared for such tragedies... I ask my dear possessions to forgive me. Proceed now toward the gates of Celestia Castle,” Ravenna concluded, her gaze softening as she looked out at the families of the deceased.
“Your Highness... let us bid them farewell,” Junior Priest Finn whispered, stepping forward. “According to the rites, everyone shall kiss the Goddess’s image, offering their own devotion in exchange for her protection of the fallen.”
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Ravenna nodded solemnly. She moved toward the towering statue, leaning in to press her lips against the stone mouth of the Goddess as tradition dictated.
But as her lips touched the cold surface, the world simply... stopped.
The cemetery, the heat, and the mourning crowds vanished in a blur of golden light. Instantly, the surroundings shifted. Ravenna found herself standing within the shimmering halls of Celestia Castle. She was no longer kissing an inanimate block of marble.
Warm, living hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a tight embrace. The kiss she had started intensified, becoming heated and real. Standing in place of the statue was Herptian herself, nude, radiant, and smelling of ancient spices. The Goddess’s hands wandered possessively as the kiss deepened, lasting for several feverish minutes before they finally parted.
Herptian smirked, her eyes glowing with divine amusement. “I see you’ve grown into quite the capable Apostle. Very well... I shall take excellent care of the souls arriving.”
A sudden gust of wind brushed against Ravenna’s skin, and the golden halls shattered. She blinked, the sounds of sobbing and the smell of gloomy wind rushing back in. She was back in the cemetery, her hand still resting against the cold stone of the statue’s cheek.
Once she had completed her part of the rite, she stepped down from the stage, clearing the way for the others. One by one, the mourners approached to kiss the Herptian Statue, their lips pressing against the cold rock in a desperate plea for their loved ones' souls. Ravenna ignored them, her gaze drifting toward a specific grave.
She stood before the tomb of High Priest James, staring blankly at the freshly carved stone.
“If only I had predicted how much the events would shift because of my meddling,” she muttered under her breath, her voice lost to the wind. She reached out, pressing her palm against the cool surface of the headstone and giving it a soft, lingering pat. It was a silent apology to a man who had been a pillar of the for the island she was currently called home.
“Hopefully you’ve found some peace in Celestia Castle with that perverted freak of a goddess,” Ravenna whispered.
She turned away, her expression hardening back into its usual regal mask. Waiting for her at the edge of the clearing were Marie, Rexford, Laila, and Aurora. They stood in a semi-circle, their eyes fixed on her with varying degrees of anxiety.
“What is it?” Ravenna asked, attempting to sound nonchalant as she closed the distance between them.
“You can take a break from work today if you need to, Ravy,” Aurora said, her voice laced with a concern that Ravenna usually found reassuring. “No one would blame you for resting after everything that’s happened.”
“Keep your needless worry to yourself,” Ravenna replied sharply. She started to walk past them, her mind already pivoting toward the afternoon's administrative backlog, when a small, firm hand caught her wrist.
She stopped and looked back. “Marie? What is it?”
The chestnut-haired girl was beaming, her eyes bright with an inner light that seemed to defy the somber atmosphere of the graveyard.
“I… I found out!” Marie exclaimed, her voice hushed but vibrating with excitement. “I figured it out, Master! I know what Goddess Herptian’s blessing is!”