A group of worshippers knelt in silence before the towering statue, hands clasped in prayer. The women's faces were hidden beneath delicate, thin veils, their heads bowed low.
The temple walls, pure white, were adorned with soft pink flowers—fresh offerings of devotion and purity. A sense of sacred stillness filled the air.
From the front row, a rotund man in White ceremonial robes slowly rose from his knees. He gazed up at the statue with narrowed eyes, his forehead creasing deeply.
His eyes widened, feeling her illusion might be true. He stepped closer, squinting, and studied the stone face.
'Who was that Duke…? Why does her face look a little bit like our goddess? D-Don't tell me… is she the goddess herself?'
He shook his head quickly, disturbed by his own thoughts.
"N-No… It's impossible…" he muttered under his breath, as if saying it aloud would help dismiss the idea.
A priestess standing a few steps behind him took notice, her voice cautious and fearful.
