Thousand-Faced Dragon

Chapter 339 Before God
"Evil dragon?"

Rean remained standing there silently, his expression seemingly calm and unperturbed, as if he didn't care at all about the slander. But in reality, he was quite surprised.

"I am not a dragon, I am a dragonborn, I am a human."

With calm words and a firm sense of self, Rean recounts his identity.

Even though many people in the courtyard looked surprised, Rean remained resolute.

"Heh." The giant smiled. Since you have the ability to stand by the side of the gods, then so be it.

"Ha." The sapphire dragon remained noncommittal; as a "kindred spirit," how could he possibly be wrong?

Your dragon breath and dragon might are purer than mine, so what are you pretending for?

A nameless anxiety rose within Rean, and flames surged within him. The blue dragon's disdainful attitude enraged him, and radiant flames enveloped his surroundings.

"call."

Rean took a deep breath, and his eyes regained their clarity, though his golden pupils shone with a gleam.

Power never comes without a price, and Rean finds it difficult to control his emotions when facing one of the rainbow dragon's "arch-enemies".

This "nameless fire" always burned in his chest; it was the hatred that came with the power mixed into his bloodline. Rean was a little puzzled. Did the Thousand-Faced Dragon also have this kind of racial hatred?

No, it's a different kind of anger.

"Insignificant low-ranking dragons and stupid giants." The low growl from his soul was about to escape his lips, but Rean suppressed it with great effort.

He realized where this emotion came from: the anger of a high-ranking dragon being looked down upon by a lower-ranking race.

But shouldn't the Sapphire Dragon also be a true dragon, the highest-ranking dragon race? How could it be considered a lower-ranking species?
I am the guardian of drama and joy, the comforter of the suffering, and the inspirer of artistic creation.

Fisterion finally spoke, and as the divine revelation echoed throughout the hall, all unease and anxiety were soothed.

A comforter of pain—perhaps He truly possesses this divine office.

[Borrowing from the principle of the inheritance of heroic spirits, I yearn to reignite the divine fire and return it to the mortal realm.]

The gods expounded their doctrines, and the temple seemed to be filled with sacred hymns.

He remained seated there, beneath a patch of grass, where the tranquil song of nature played softly.

Before the eyes of all the listeners, it was as if they saw an ancient landscape: the era when giants and dragons fought, the glorious end of the elven age, and the countless calamities that were about to befall them.
"Our God will reactivate His divine office and His divine fire, and rebuild a new pastoral service of faith. Those who wish to join may remain; those who do not wish to engage may not."

"call."

Right in front of Rean, the figure wearing the sapphire crown vanished without a trace.

"Boom!"

Flames engulfed Rean, his uncontrollable rage burning him intensely. He found himself unable to tolerate the contempt and disdain shown towards him by dragons, especially the so-called true dragons.

This scene, however, seems to be taken for granted by most people.

Most dragons worship only the dragon god, and only show basic respect to other deities.

For them, the troublesome matter of the resurgence of gods was too risky and offered little benefit (many dragons stayed away from the mortal world), so there was absolutely no need for them to get involved.

Before leaving, he could have explained the situation and politely declined, at least to show respect to the host and say goodbye. To leave without any respect for the gods is a manifestation of the dragon race's arrogance.

To the true God, this is an act of blasphemy that would invite divine punishment.

"Who else?"

Rean was unable to pursue the matter at the moment, so he looked around.

This time, it seems there is no one else.

For most mortals, the possibility of a divine resurrection would be an incredible stroke of luck.

They weren't entirely convinced, but at least for now, they were observing. Rean glanced over and saw eyes brimming with passion and ambition; the young man yearned for every opportunity to rise.

"You're interested?"

Rean looked at the smiling forest giant. Such beings usually lived far from humans. Did she have an interest in gods and the church?

What significance do the wealth and power acquired in "civilized lands" hold for these truly ancient and wild races?

"Honorable Lord of Drama and Joy, I have heard your name, and your mercy moves us to tears. If possible, I wish to be your shepherd, spreading your gospel among our savage and pampered people."

And the giant's first words were an aria-like "flattery of God."

But this is still a test from the immortals. You say you are the true god, and I believe you, but there are too many evil gods who deceive in dreams. If you are real, then grant me the profession of priest.

The giant of the forest wore a smile, but there was no hint of amusement in his eyes.

She seemed to be waiting for the dream weaver to make a fool of herself.

"can."

But Fisterion merely plucked a string, and the cheerful music continued. Those around him looked puzzled, but the next second, their expressions changed drastically.

Not only the Forest Giant, but all the other inheritors also sensed the changes in themselves.

When the giant, acting as its "representative," makes a wish to the god, the covenant is naturally established.

"I became a pastor."

"Is this divine magic?"

"How is that possible? There really is a faith link." It seems that there are genuine religious people among them.

They were all a little incredulous. Normally, becoming a pastor requires years of practice and study, often several years is not enough. How could he have become one all of a sudden?

But Rean knew that, in the end, a "pastor" was just an "agent" of God, a qualification and an endorsement, and as long as God approved, that was enough.

A pastor's study, prayer, and even asceticism are often just about getting closer to God in terms of soul and cognition, trying to "raise your hand," and hoping that God, the "teacher," will call your name.

Now that we are all before God, granting us a qualification is unnecessary and requires no further trouble.

Give me your response tomorrow.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, Fisterion's figure gradually faded into a blur.

As with previous instances, the first night was probably enough for an audience. Without returning to reality, no one could determine whether it was a simple nightmare or a hoax by some evil god.

Rean continued to watch silently, memorizing each seemingly young face.

Some were terrified, some were inexplicably excited, and some pretended to be calm. The core priesthood of an ancient god was restarting. As long as things went smoothly, this would at least be a reward from the Grand Priest.

If the gods are truly resurrected, even the immortals and the chosen people, no matter how badly they fare, a regional bishop would still possess near-limitless wealth and power.

"You should think it over. This is a rare opportunity, and so should you."

This time, Rean was speaking to the other inheritors of the heroic spirits.

The new church does not reject other extraordinary individuals; it has no intention of rejecting the legacy of alchemists, paladins, or even heroes.

Rean needs more talent, regardless of where they come from.

“I am Rean Sudar. If you are in Radiant City, you can meet me here.”

Rean directly revealed his identity, stating that he must become the leader during the opening cycle of the new church.

The long night did not end there. The many candidates began to communicate with each other. Their young faces were mostly filled with desire and ambition. Even the successors of the heroes could not ignore the opportunity for a god to rise.

(End of this chapter)