The human lawyer who had spoken in defense of the harpy godling approached her as the hall continued to empty. He stopped a respectful distance away and extended his hand.

The female harpy godling studied it for a brief moment before accepting the gesture.

“Well done today,” she said, her voice calm, measured.

The human lawyer let out a quiet laugh, scratching the back of his head. “I wouldn’t say that. Our side didn’t do much once you began to speak. You controlled the court the moment you opened your mouth.”

At his words, the godling smiled, faint, knowing.

“Your people were too hasty,” she replied. “Too eager. Even before the Goddess’ law had been fully invoked, you took it personally. You wanted us to lose.” Her grip tightened slightly before relaxing. “That forced my hand. I played the only move left to me.”

The human lawyer’s smile faded.

“Yes… we were,” he admitted. “The godlings were the ones who first introduced us to the Goddess’ law and faith. We wanted to prove ourselves—to you, and to our own people. To show them they were in capable hands.” He exhaled slowly. “But we were too eager. We left gaps, and you took advantage of them.”

He met her gaze again, not resentful only thoughtful.

“That lesson,” he added quietly, “won’t be forgotten.”

The harpy godling inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment.

“Good,” she said. “The godlings will see to it that this never happens again”

Silence lingered between them before the human lawyer spoke again.

“Do you think he’ll lose the Goddess’ favor?” he asked.

Both of them turned their attention to a solitary figure seated apart from the remaining crowd, someone uninvolved in the quiet exchanges around him, staring absentmindedly at the statue of Xerosis as if searching for an answer that would not come.

The female harpy godling shook her head slowly.

“That is between him and the Goddess,” she said. “Personally, I would like to believe he was simply too passionate. That he meant no ill will by his words or actions.”

The human lawyer glanced back at her. “I envy the godlings,” he admitted. “The way you can look at things so cleanly. Even when you are wrong, you stand… right.”

Her expression turned serious, wings settling slightly at her sides.

“Humans will understand that someday,” she replied. “It may come sooner than either of us expects. And if it does…” Her gaze met his steadily. “I hope to see you again in court.”

The human lawyer smiled at that. He stepped closer, lowering his voice.

“If that happens,” he said, “may I ask a favor of you?”

The harpy godling raised a brow, curiosity flickering across her features.

“And what would that be?”

He hesitated.

It showed in the way his posture stiffened, in the brief pause where courage wrestled with propriety. Then, finally, he spoke.

“A date,” he said simply. “I would like to take you out on a date.”

The words took the female godling by surprise. Her brow rose as she turned her gaze on the human standing before her. For a moment, she studied him closely, noting the fire in his eyes, the way he held himself despite the tremor in his voice. Then a small, knowing smile curved her beak.

She extended a hand, lightly pointing it to his chest. “First… live long enough to even see me again,” she said.

Without waiting for a response, her figure pivoted gracefully, and she trotted off. Wings tucked slightly, hips swaying with effortless poise, she moved with the natural elegance of a being who had always been untouchable.

The human lawyer remained frozen, not hearing the words of refusal or denial he had braced for. Shock held him in place as he watched her leave, the sight of her disappearing form etching itself into his mind.

Then, unable to restrain himself, he shouted, voice carrying across the nearly empty court. “Then that isn’t a no, then?!”

No response came, and none was needed. His fist clenched at his side. A spark of determination ignited in him.

“Let’s do this!” he bellowed, turning to his fellow human lawyers. Ambition radiated from his every movement. He would not only survive long enough to see her again, he would rise far above his current station. His place in this world would be stronger, unshakable, worthy of standing before a godling on equal footing.

Behind him, the female godling slowed her pace just enough to hear his shout. A faint tilt of her head, barely noticeable, betrayed her curiosity. “Why had I responded that way?” she wondered. There had been something in his hesitation, the shaking vulnerability in his voice, that had stirred her, excited her, in a way she had not expected. That subtle bravery, that raw honesty… it had prompted her reaction more than she cared to admit.

Off in the distance, she could hear the echo of human voices, laughter, and the rush of ambition, and a small part of her smiled softly. Perhaps, before they met again, he would grow stronger, more composed, worthy of the chance she might yet give him. If he lived, and if time had not dulled the fire she had glimpsed in him, she would not mind, no, she might even welcome the opportunity to see just how far such a brave human could go.

And for now, that was enough.

A few days passed after the court came to its end, and with it, any hope of containing what had transpired vanished entirely.

The tale spread like a plague.

Within days, the whole of the Western Continent had heard of the courtof the goddess who presided unseen, of godlings made mortal, of common victims who had stood equal beneath divine judgment. No two retellings were identical. Some embroidered the truth with fear, others with reverence, a few with outright invention.

Yet beneath the distortions, a clear shape emerged.

Everyone could deduce what had truly happened.

Justice had been enacted.

Godlings had been judged.

And humanity had been heard.

From the Western Continent, the story did not slow, it expanded.

Merchants from distant lands, who had known of the court but been unable to attend, devoured every rumor they could find. They listened in taverns, at docks, in counting halls and caravansaries. More importantly, they carried those stories with them across seas, through deserts, over mountain passes bringing the news home to their own continents.

Within weeks, the tale of the court had spread across the world of Nana.

Even the Southern Continent heard of it.

Their reaction, however, differed greatly from the rest.

Where others felt awe or cautious hope, the South felt unease.

It was not too long ago they were holding these godlings “prisoners”, restrained not through divine law, but through politics. Surveillance, veiled threats, and imperial authority. They had even been sublty nodging these godlings to take action.

Now, listening to the accounts from the West, they realized something deeply unsettling.

The godlings had been reasonable all along. It dawned on them just how close they had come to catastrophe. Had those godlings chosen to act as the offenders in the court had, the South might have suffered atrocities beyond measure. Instead, they had endured political chains with patience, watching the empire as one might watch mischievous children who did not yet understand the weight of their own authority.

That realization reframed countless memories. The smiles, the indulgent looks and the calm acceptance of restriction. They truly were amusement to these godlings.

Amid all of this, the temples of Xerosis saw unprecedented growth.

The influx was sudden and overwhelming. In a matter of weeks, her following swelled beyond expectation so much so that it eclipsed even the worship of Tide, whose favor recently, many has sought in hopes of earning his grace or receiving his gifts.

Altars were raised in haste. Statues carved overnight. Prayers spoken by mouths that had only recently learned her name.

From the outside, it was a triumph.

From Xerosis’ perspective, it was a threat.

Faith was not a simple offering. It was weight, substance, and influence and most of those now directing it toward her knew nothing of her doctrine. They did not worship justice, balance, or restraint. They worshipped outcomes. Safety. Retribution. Power borrowed through reverence.

Their reasons were selfish.

And their faith was impure.

The energy poured into her realm in uncontrolled torrents, thick with expectation and desperation. It pressed against the foundations she had spent last decades refining, threatening to warp what she had carefully shaped.

Her realm was alive with activity.

Xerosis moved through it constantly, cold focus holding back unease as she worked alongside the Arch-Curse, the Tyrannical Juggernaut. Together, they labored to refine and filter the excess faith energy flooding in, stripping away its distortions, its demands, its attempts to imprint mortal desire onto divine form.

It was slow. Painfully slow.

She felt the temptation keenly.

A single response, a whisper answered, a prayer fulfilled would help anchor and refine the incoming faith. Mortals would feel acknowledged. Their devotion would stabilize, becoming easier to process.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep