Meanwhile, the priests were busy with preparations.

  One priest placed a strange tripod on the altar. Another carefully carved runes. A third recited a solemn prayer, hoping to earn the favor of the gods.

  At last, someone brought out a dark, mysterious sphere about the size of a football. It looked plain and ordinary, showing no sign of magic. But as soon as it was set on the tripod and filled with energy, the surface began to glow with a beautiful light, like stars swirling inside.

  “Mommy… is this… is this a fragment of the night sky?” Grace whispered in awe, unable to tear her eyes away.

  “No, my dear. This is the Sphere of Origin. It will serve as the conduit for your awakening,” Catherine murmured gently, trying to explain in terms her daughter could grasp.

  These spheres were seen as the foundation of the Roman Empire’s power, a priceless gift from the gods. For the empire, they were as important as fire is to all people.

  Legends said that, envious of Prometheus’ feat, Hephaestus sought to surpass him. He pondered long over what gift could be greater than the flame that was essential for survival.

  He noticed that once people have enough, they always want more. Like the gods, humans are ambitious. After their basic needs are met, they seek power and status.

  Hephaestus chose to give people strength. Using orichalcum ore, he made the Spheres of Origin—objects that could awaken magic in ordinary people and help them reach their full potential.

  To this day, the Roman Empire is considered the most powerful, for it has the highest proportion of practicing citizens.

  The Sphere of Origin was more than just a treasure. It stood for power, mystery, and hope for a better future for every Roman.

  As the altar activated the sphere, Adam’s trusted ally Allaric, the cardinal of the Church of Light, led the ceremony. He was short and a bit hunched, with chestnut hair and a hooked nose. But standing on the altar in the bright light, he looked almost saintly.

  Allaric opened a massive book bound in gold and began to chant:

  “In the name of our Lord, the great God of Light, I proclaim the beginning of the Awakening Ceremony! Phoebus!”

  The crowd answered in unison: “Phoebus!”

  “Oh, Almighty, grant your servant the right to carry out your will. Phoebus!”

  “Phoebus!”

  “For the good of all believers, grant mortals strength! Phoebus!”

  As the priest prayed, pure divine light filled the whole pyramid. The sight was so grand it felt like the god himself had come down to earth.

  “Step forward, child,” Allaric said, turning to the crowd and inviting Grace to ascend the altar.

  Faced with such a serious moment for the first time, the girl froze. She nervously fidgeted with her tunic, her eyes full of doubt. But everyone was watching her, so she had no choice.

  Grace took a deep breath and walked slowly toward the altar. The sphere seemed to call to her, drawing her in. The feeling was strange but somehow felt right.

  With each step, her fear faded and turned into nervousness, then curiosity, excitement, and wonder. She wanted to know which magical core she would get, and what her brother, mother, and Cassia would think.

  Her thoughts began to whirl:

  “What if I get an S-class core? Mother will definitely praise me! Maybe she’ll even give me a new doll… And brother will be even prouder of his sister!”

  “And I’ll win the bet! But what should I wish for? Maybe have him clean up all my toys all day? Hmm, too boring…”

  “What if I make him brush my hair? No, no, that’s a punishment, not a reward! Although… he does need to learn to be gentle. Ah! I’ve got it! He can practice on Mother—he definitely won’t hurt her. Hee-hee-hee… I’m a genius!”

  Allaric saw that the girl was lost in thought. He knew better than anyone how the Sphere of Origin worked. Its promise of power and authority drew in everyone. The effect was strong and hard to resist.

  Grace’s reaction didn’t surprise him. Of course, he had no idea what she was really thinking. If he had, he might have acted differently.

  “Calm down, Grace,” he said softly, with a gentle smile, like a grandfather encouraging his granddaughter. “Don’t worry. Just relax and touch the surface. Everything will be fine.”

  Grace obeyed.

  “Good. Now close your eyes and listen to yourself,” Allaric said, still warm and reassuring. “Feel your body. Right there, in your stomach, you’ll notice a light tickle. Do you feel it? Remember that feeling. Good. Now try to slowly move that tickle up, toward your arm, and then into the sphere.”

  He spoke in a simple way, almost like telling a story. Right then, he seemed less like a strict cardinal and more like a caring mentor.

  Grace squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus. At first, she felt only a faint numbness, as if her arms and legs had gone slightly asleep. It made her a little anxious. Was she doing something wrong?

  She remembered his instructions and tried to relax her shoulders, stomach, arms, and legs. After a minute, she experienced a strange tingling just above her navel, like tiny sparks tickling her from the inside.

  As soon as she focused on it, the tingling grew stronger. It felt like a tender warmth she could control. Grace pictured it moving up toward her chest, and the energy followed her thoughts.

  The tickle moved across her chest, into her shoulders, then down her arms to her elbows, wrists, and finally her fingertips. The energy seemed ready to flow out by itself.

  A thin, glowing thread reached into the device and connected with it. Grace felt clear changes inside her body. Her magical core had awakened, and it felt as natural as her own arms and legs.

  The Sphere reacted, shining with a rainbow of light. Darkness vanished. Inside the orb, bright flashes of red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and violet appeared. The colors mixed together, spinning a web of light that shimmered and danced.

  The light was so bright it took everyone’s breath away. It filled the whole acropolis, giving the place a magical feeling.

  Everyone could tell, without a word, that the princess’s magical core was something special. It was beyond anything they had seen before. Their own rituals now felt dull and unimportant by comparison. Sometimes, comparing can be painful.

  Of course, some of the effect was due to the high quality of the Sphere of Origin. Only the best ones were used for the royal family, who already had strong genes. An ordinary awakening stone, like those given to common people, wouldn’t have worked. Everyone knew that the stronger the core, the harder it was to sense it.

  The hall filled with gasps and quiet whispers. The priest quickly flipped through his book, trying to figure out the core’s type. People around him looked on with envy, talking softly to each other, but no one dared to interrupt.

  Finally, Allaric completed his calculations. He stood on the altar, shaking gently with excitement. His voice was measured, yet firm:

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “After analyzing the completed ritual, I can state with full responsibility: Princess Grace’s magical core belongs to the legendary class with S-level throughput. A Rainbow Core, allowing its owner to wield any elemental magic without overload. I assure you, the young Grace’s talent will astonish not only the Province of Light but the entire Roman Empire.”

  The crowd couldn’t hold back any longer. Their emotions finally burst out.

  “Long live Princess Grace! Phoebus!”

  “Long live the Province of Light! Phoebus!”

  To see how special Grace’s core was, it helps to know that most people watching had only reached Class A with their own cores. They were nobles, the top of society, but it took them years of hard work and lots of resources to get there.

  The money spent on their development could have sustained a small city for ten years. And here was a little girl, receiving everything at once, and even more, simply by birthright.

  The feelings in the Acropolis were hard to describe: envy, anger, awe, and admiration. In that moment, Grace enjoyed the spotlight, even if she hadn’t earned it. She was completely overjoyed.

  But things were not over yet.

  A beam of light shot down from the heavens onto the altar. It enveloped Grace and Allaric in an impenetrable cylinder, cutting them off from the outside world.

  The spectators were stunned. They knew what was happening: Grace’s actions had caught the attention of a god. Apollo, the province’s patron and said to be the most handsome of all, had come down from Olympus to recognize the princess’s talent.

  It was a huge honor and an incredible sight.

  Divine blessings were known in Eridania, and people made offerings to receive them. But everyone knew blessings could be small or large. Even nobles who spent a lot of money struggled to get a god’s attention. Any favor from a god was impressive and took a lot of effort to earn.

  So it was no wonder they felt jealous when a little girl’s talent made Apollo appear. Was that fair? Were they really meant to struggle while others enjoyed all the rewards?

  Meanwhile, at the very top of the pyramid…

  Bathed in holy light, Grace stood still, her eyes wide. She looked at Apollo with both fear and awe. He was completely white, made of pure light. In that glow, she couldn’t see any eyes or face—just a blurry outline.

  “PHOEBUS TO YOU, ALMIGHTY APOLLO!!!” Allaric slammed his forehead to the ground, daring not to lift his eyes. His posture radiated absolute loyalty and reverence.

  Grace just stood there, too shocked to move.

  “What are you doing, Princess? Kneel at once!” the cardinal shouted, sweat pouring from his brow.

  “It’s all right,” Apollo waved off his concern. His voice was calm, detached, as if the mortal world mattered little to him.

  But Allaric knew the truth: gods were not that forgiving, and Apollo was no exception. Grace had shown a bit of disrespect and lost some favor, but there was nothing he could do about it.

  “I… I… G-G-Grace… P-P-Princess,” Grace stammered, her nerves betraying her.

  “A beautiful name. Blessed, radiant, and merciful. It suits you perfectly,” Apollo praised her. “I am impressed by your talent. Do you wish to become my chosen daughter? You could serve as a priestess, like little Eva. Your task would be to guide people toward the Light. You will enjoy both secular and ecclesiastical power. You will grow even more beautiful. You will earn fame and honor. And in the end, you could enter Elysium and live forever. Do you agree?”

  Grace could hardly believe it. The god had offered her everything anyone could want. How could she say no? But she was only three years old, her mind was on something else. She knew it might be rude to ask, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “I-I… S-Starlight… Umu… M-my mother and brother… Permission…” Grace stammered. She tried to find the right words, but they just wouldn’t come.

  Suddenly, she was interrupted by Allaric himself:

  “Don't do this, my Lord..”

  The God of Light cast a dismissive glance at the priest.

  “Have you forgotten your place, servant?! How dare you interrupt my talk with my future priestess? Who do you think you are?” Apollo lost his calm. The girl had almost agreed, and he was so close to getting what he wanted. But this servant, who had no talent, had dared to step in.

  Taking a deep breath, Apollo decided to listen. The girl was here—she could not escape him.

  “Go on. She can’t hear us. I hope this is truly important.”

  “As you command, merciful god. I shall explain at once,” Allaric said, trembling under the intense gaze of the higher being. He dared not delay and began his account:

  “Here is the situation. I believe the girl wants to ask for her family. But there’s something strange about it. Three years ago, the third concubine had twins, and their birth came with a heavenly sign…”

  “Get to the point! I don’t have a whole day to listen to your nonsense,” Apollo interrupted.

  “Y-yes, my lord. The matter is that the celestial manifestation was a rainbow that rose above the province. However, it was interrupted by an eclipse that spread across the entire continent.”

  “Continue…” Now Apollo’s interest was piqued.

  “Both of the girl’s parents have fair hair, but the boy was born with black hair. We thought the mother might have been unfaithful. To hide this, people said the child had been marked by the eclipse.

  We sent a request to the pontiffs in the capital. It seemed like a small, routine matter, but their reply surprised us.

  They told us to investigate. That’s when we learned that three thousand years ago, the Senate ordered all the Sibyls to come together to predict Rome’s future.

  There were more than a hundred Sibyls. They performed the ‘Propheteia’ to see the future. At first, things went smoothly, but when they tried to look three thousand years ahead, they started coughing up blood and dying, one by one.

  They left behind a single prophecy:

  ‘When day and night fall out of rhythm, a child shall be born whose shadow will eclipse the sun. Old histories will burn, legends will be rewritten. Invaders will come, and the world will bear new chains.’

  That is how the Sibyls disappeared. The pontiffs are deeply concerned. This ceremony is our only chance to determine whether Grace brouther is the harbinger of night.

  I fear that any careless actions on our part could interfere with your nobility’s plans. Please, grant me your instructions!”

  Allaric finished his account. He remained kneeling, awaiting judgment.

  He had his own reasons. He didn’t believe the prophecy at all — it was too vague and complicated. But he knew the gods cared most about their reputation.

  He was sure Apollo would notice the hint: “…a child whose shadow will eclipse the sun…” Wasn’t that a direct challenge? No matter how talented the child was, Apollo would never let her rise at his expense. Whatever the princess asked for, he couldn’t agree.

  This was how Allaric planned to help his friend rid himself of an unwanted offspring while simultaneously earning favor from the deity.

  The god didn’t answer. He fell silent, lost in thought.

  “I remember that three years ago, the forces of Light everywhere were weakened. I don’t think it was natural. Nix, Azazel, or Hel must have been involved. Who knows what they were planning?”

  Looking through the light, he scanned the crowd. He studied each member of the royal family closely, thinking hard. When he saw Catherine, his gaze grew so intense it seemed like it could burn through walls.

  Even Allaric sensed his astonishment, yet he kept his head bowed.

  The God of Light felt a storm of emotions inside. What he saw made him doubt his own sanity. He just couldn’t believe it.

  His plans needed to change immediately. He could not afford to miss this opportunity.

  Apollo stood silently. Ten seconds passed, then a minute, then two, then three.

  For a god, ten seconds of thinking could be like years of work for humans. What could be on his mind?

  Finally, he reached a conclusion. He had to act carefully.

  “You have done me a great service,” he said to Allaric.

  These words were what the cardinal had hoped to hear. He shook with excitement.

  “Don’t rush. You must follow my instructions exactly,” Apollo said, touching the top of Allaric’s head to give him guidance. Then he took the priest’s right hand and drew a rune on it.

  “Use this, and under no circumstances deviate from the plan. Do you understand me?”

  For a moment, Allaric’s eyes went blank. He stared at his hand, the one the god had touched. Then he snapped back to himself and promised:

  “Yes, great lord. I will do everything you command.”

  “Very well. Rest assured, I will not forget your contribution,” Apollo assured him, then shifted his gaze to the girl, who was still struggling to finish her thought.

  “B-brother and I h-had a bet on whose magical core w-would be stronger…”

  “I understand. You have nothing to worry about,” the God of Light said, no longer able to listen any longer. He had thought for so long, and this little girl still hadn’t finished speaking…

  But his reply was careful and gentle, as if concerned he might frighten her:

  “I do not wish to separate you, so I will give you this bracelet. It will protect you from any harm.”

  With that, the God of Light disappeared. He turned into tiny bits of light, leaving only a plain white bracelet behind. His time in the world had ended.

  As soon as his mind returned to his real body, he started laughing.

  “Ahahah, Apollo, oh dear Apollo. You cannot blame me for what is about to happen. How do they say it—‘an eye for an eye’? Yes… exactly that. You brought this calamity upon yourself.

  What kind of fool leaves an altar unattended? Now I will have my revenge. Your son will suffer a fate worse than death. I’ll play with your daughter. I’ll give you horns. I’ll ruin your reputation. Ahaha.

  And all with one move! I’ll keep outsmarting you until the end, you fool.”

  The God of Light laughed wildly, as if he had lost his mind. He was no longer the handsome man everyone admired. He hardly seemed human at all.

  Suddenly, he remembered something.

  “Oh, right. I need to find Apophis. He will help me bring my plans to life. I remember Apollo gave him horns too. The time for revenge has come, my friend. Nix won’t help you. Just relax and wait! Ahahahah.”

  While someone successfully slipped away from the scene of the crime, Allaric straightened up and exhaled. He looked at Grace with a strange expression, but said nothing.

  Meanwhile, the girl played happily with the bracelet. She really liked it and had no idea it was dangerous.

  As the dome of light faded, the cardinal tried to understand what had just happened. The God of Light seemed shaken by the prophecy. Had he noticed something? Why did his orders feel a bit strange?

  In the end, he let those thoughts go. There was no point in worrying. The best thing to do was follow Apollo’s orders. He shouldn’t question a god’s words—of course not.

  Apollo had given him power and status. His job was to do the god’s will and share his words with the people, not to question a higher being’s motives. He didn’t want to be seen as a heretic.