Chapter 225: The Moon Goddess in Extreme Fury - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

"Good evening, Your Highness Shirina." "Ah, it's Lady Belmont. Good evening." Shirina, observing the elegantly dressed noblewoman with a humble smile in front of her, did not rise but rather acknowledged her with a slight smile and a gentle nod. Seeing this, the lady appeared somewhat honored and, feeling a bit awkward, sat beside Shirina, holding her young daughter close. Though Lady Belmont hailed from a marquess family, and her husband was one of the empire's senators, her family's waning influence and the fact that she was the marquess's second wife meant she didn't hold much significance in the capital's social circles. The open-air amphitheater, resembling a circular arena, was bustling at this hour, with finely dressed guests—aristocrats and famous figures—wandering back and forth along the walkways. Each one was a formidable figure in their own right, summoned to witness the sacred spectacle of the Moonlight Festival held once every five years to behold the miracles bestowed by the Moon Goddess. It was an unimaginable event under normal circumstances. After all, the Silent Church still held the secret to producing Lunar Elixir. For such a miraculous remedy capable of reversing life and death, they were eager to curry favor, never to offend the church members easily. Due to her intriguing relationship with Tia, Shirina attended tonight's Moonlight Festival. At some point in the past, Tia had regarded Shirina as a rival in affection, harboring subtle hostility. This was unsurprising, considering the ambiguous relationship between Shirina and Sia. Shirina had a fondness for the young captain who saved her from desperate circumstances. If the conditions were favorable, she wouldn't mind deepening her connection with him. With Sia's support, her advantage in the royal selection would become even more pronounced. Even so, Shirina sometimes found Tia's subtle hostility rather vexing. After all, the Holy Rolan Empire still upheld a monogamous system. While most nobles would privately maintain several mistresses, and wives typically turned a blind eye, Shirina, influenced by the Chronicles of Shino from childhood, yearned for a pure and faithful romance. She dreamed that one day, a radiant hero would be recognized by the Tree of the Holy Spirit and proclaim his love for her amidst universal acclaim, pledging a lifelong commitment. If that were to happen, she might find her heart racing. Silently contemplating, Shirina maintained an outward demeanor of serenity, gracefully exchanging pleasantries from the high seat arranged by the Silent Church in response to the greetings from those with power and status. Though she did not particularly enjoy such social engagements, she was well-trained from a young age, showing no flaws outwardly. In stark contrast, in an empty section of the arena sat Iviste, her expression cold and eyes filled with hatred, creating a sharp distinction from her sister. The degree of respect they received from the aristocracy was markedly different. For Iviste, a figure fearsome for the curse marks on her face, people avoided her at all costs. Clearly, even though Iviste had been invited and attended personally, many were not accustomed to her presence. Compared to previous Moonlight Festivals, the atmosphere tonight seemed tinged with a hint of menace. Sensing that someone was watching her, Iviste's gaze, sharp as a blade, swept toward Shirina from across the amphitheater. After a brief stare, she coldly looked away, her eyes void of any emotion. Seeing this, Shirina felt a sense of helplessness. She had initially thought that their relationship might improve after the sisters' late-night conversation. But now, it seemed like she had overestimated. Shirina sighed lightly and looked up at the sky. The night sky was like a pitch-black curtain, adorned with countless sparkling stars, shimmering like jewels, captivating the heart. And there it was, the perfect round white moon, hanging high in the sky like a translucent jade plate, exuding a cool, silvery brilliance that soothed with a silent calm. The amphitheater, being open-air, offered the finest angles from every direction to experience the divine phenomena up close. This was a privilege of the nobility, a position unattainable for those devoted to the faith of the "Silent." She wondered when the festival would commence. As Shirina pondered, another figure Came to mind. Thinking carefully, Iviste seemed to have changed since meeting him at the border, becoming the way she was now. Despite her twisted heart, as the eldest among her siblings and a sensitive woman, she occasionally displayed fleeting moments of tenderness from time to time. As for who those gentle moments were directed towards, it was obvious. Lynn Bartoleon. What kind of magic did he possess to subtly transform her into her current state? And it wasn't just her; Tia, too, shared a complex connection with him. Thinking deeper, it was clear. If she pursued Sia, there would inevitably be emotional conflicts and disputes with Tia. Shirina had long prepared herself for this possibility. However, after meeting the Saint of Silence, who once couldn't stop mentioning Sia, and seeing her again as a "formidable rival," she noticed something curious. In Tia's eyes, there was no longer the previous hostility. Tia herself probably hadn't noticed this change. Recalling the brief encounter with him last night, Shirina gently shook her head. She bore no intense emotions, her maturity far surpassing her peers, and she was not easily swayed by sweet talk or petty tricks. To be honest. Though their first interaction was brief and purely born from the transaction of Hermes's tomb, it left a lasting impression on her. She wondered where he was now, whether he had been captured. Just as these thoughts crossed her mind, a group of hurried clergy members appeared at the scene. "We apologize," said the leading sister with a tense expression, "Due to unknown reasons, the descent of gods in this Moonlight Festival is—" "Buzz!" Before she could finish, the pristine round moon above emitted a wondrous, lengthy resonance, and the silvery moonlight began to flow like a tangible substance in all directions. The serene silver glow blanketed the earth. The moon, which should be as lifeless as ever following the cycle of day and night, seemed suddenly infused with life, becoming vibrant and graceful. Witnessing the sacred scene described only in scriptures, the leading sister stood frozen, her eyes filled with unprecedented fervor and piety. Mumbling the unspoken remainder of her words. "…Commencing early." Though termed a divine descent, the Moonlight Festival was, for the Moon Goddess Beatrice, merely an occasion to select a suitable vessel. The true divine descent occurred during the Lunar Rift, unknown to any living being. But given that the moon itself was Beatrice's mythic form, drawn by the goddess's advent, some changes were inevitable. Thus, the Silent Church proclaimed these changes as divine miracles to bolster its authority. Otherwise, even with the peculiar state, She was a mighty deity. Why would She need divine descent to impress and please ordinary mortals? At this moment, in the high skies of the Lunar Rift, the milky luminescence began to radiate a gentle yet dazzling brilliance, prompting one to squint. An overwhelming pressure and cold divine aura filled the space unseen. Should anyone face this ancient force directly, they would likely lose consciousness instantly. Though named the Moon, the luminescence seemed more like a blazing sun, blindingly bright, impossible for even the strongest superhumans to gaze upon directly. The consciousness of the Moon. Or rather, a fragment of Beatrice's soul, separated after her true form was tainted by the corruption of evil gods and demons. To prevent this irreparable corruption from affecting her divine status, the Moon Goddess had no choice but to take such drastic measures, spending years and immense resources to find a suitable vessel worldwide for her rebirth. For a deity, such a humiliating and arduous path would only be chosen when pushed to the absolute edge, forced to reclaim divine dignity. At this moment, if a powerful being were to squint with all their might and look into the heart of the glowing orb, they’d see a graceful form, sculpted from moonlight, floating effortlessly in the sky. Her eyes shimmered with an ethereal light, cold and detached, gazing down at the living world, seemingly unmoved by any earthly affairs. Thus, on a seemingly ordinary and tranquil night, the Moon Goddess Beatrice descended silently into the Lunar Rift. Her gaze pierced through the void, overseeing all of humanity below. After a long while, she calmly looked down at Tia, curled up in the realm of illusory suffering. Only then did the Moon Goddess reveal a trace of frigid emotion. Clearly, the priests, including Sister Gretel, had already informed her of the change in the vessel. So, Beatrice showed no surprise or anger, merely examining Tia in silence. Meanwhile, her gaze penetrated into Tia's spiritual realm. Amid the layers of the illusory suffering and the interference from the historical divergences linked to Lynn, Tia was overwhelmed with immense self-loathing. As her soul dimmed and faded, the goal of eliminating the "error" within the vessel seemed not far away. In no time, Beatrice would embody the most fitting form seen in centuries within this flawless vessel. Logically, as a superior deity, even if unpredictabilities arose, she should have maintained composure and swiftly covered any gaps. It wasn't particularly difficult. To protect the vessel, even if unable to forcibly erase Tia's consciousness, Beatrice could easily accelerate the process. Yet she refrained from doing so. Instead, as she gazed at the agonized Tia, Beatrice suddenly waved a gentle hand, dissipating the illusory suffering placed upon her. In an instant, Tia's consciousness fluttered awake, as if finally emerging from a prolonged nightmare. "Goddess... my lady?" Seeing the pale apparition before her, Tia's emerald eyes flashed with panic. In her weakened state, she knelt before the goddess, her expression filled with both devoutness and despair. The juxtaposition of these contrasting emotions would seem almost impossible in a single person. Observing the scene, Beatrice felt not the slightest trace of pity. As a deity, unraveling memories was a simple task. In a brief moment, she absorbed all the recent memories of Tia. After a short silence, a frigid and severe atmosphere silently swept through the entire Lunar Rift. Merely glimpsing the absurd scene of the vessel she chose being held by a contemptible, dirty male on a balcony ignited an unspeakable fury within her. As for the subsequent memories, she had no interest in continuing. It appeared that the church had withheld numerous truths, even neglecting to report such significant matters to her. Realizing this, a blazing fury surged within Beatrice. The mere thought of the "error" within the vessel daring to commit such revolting acts instinctively clenched her fists. Among all the true gods in the Holy Rolan Empire, Beatrice, who held dominion over "beauty," was the only deity who utterly despised all men. This sentiment was also echoed in the doctrine of the Silent Church. To her, men were the least compatible creatures with "beauty" and therefore should be eradicated. This was why, when selecting the vessel, she had unhesitatingly bestowed it with a "blessing" that instilled aversion to all men worldwide, as a safeguard. Coupled with strict clerical control, she never expected any mishaps. Yet, an oversight occurred nonetheless. But Beatrice was a goddess, with the wisdom of tens of thousands of years. Despite the brief silence, she refrained from displaying her inner rage, speaking instead in a voice as cold as ice, "Do you have any last words?"