The Eclipsed Bloom
Chapter 120: Grace

Chapter 120: Chapter 120: Grace

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.

"Holy Cardinal, is something troubling you?"

The Cardinal hesitated, then gave a slight shake of his head.

"No..."

But his thoughts could not stop.

’This can’t be real... the goddess hasn’t descended in a million years. It must be an illusion.... And the goddess is merciful in texts and never gets angry at anyone.’

He cast one final glance at the statue before turning away.

The goddess statue loomed silently behind him—carved in gray stone, a graceful robe draped over her form. The sculpted hood of the robe partially covered her face, shadowing her eyes, but what was visible bore a striking resemblance to Hemiros... only softer, etched with an untouched innocence.

And as the Cardinal walked away, there were only sounds left, the priestesses’ prayers.

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On a magnificent island blessed with unparalleled beauty—lush forests, crystal-clear lakes, and flowers blooming in every corner—the air shimmered with divine energy.

In the skies above, numerous floating thrones hovered, each design that was etched into platforms was its own throne symbols: lightning, Wolf, Blood, Seals.

Upon one grand throne, Odin slowly opened his lone eye, his voice solemn as he addressed the gathered god-kings.

"Fellow god-kings, what say you? If we delay any longer, the Lady of Love may begin destroying the realms once more."

Zeus stood from his lavish golden throne, his expression serious.

"Odin, do you have a clue how powerful she is currently?"

Varek, seated on a throne carved from obsidian and bone, let out a low growl of irritation.

"Of course she should be weak—she’s been sealed and cut off from prayer offerings from you gods get power from. But if we wait any longer... who knows how much of her power has returned?"

Odin nodded slowly, murmuring under his breath, "First useful thing you’ve ever said, Varek..."

But Varek’s sharp werewolf senses caught the words. His ears twitched.

"What did you say, one-eyed fool?"

Odin ignored him, continuing, "Regardless, we cannot afford more delays."

"Dont ignore me you mogrel"

Zeus frowned, his gaze drifting toward one of the floating platforms—empty.

"Odin... why is Lucien Who claim to be powerful than me is absent from this meeting? He’s never missed a single summit, not even the minor ones. Why now, when we face a crisis?"

Varek scoffed and leaned back into his throne.

"Claim? He is stronger than you, lustful god."

Zeus’s lips twitched, but he clenched his fists, refusing to rise to the bait of the brash wolf.

"Yeah, you can never enjoy my life because if you try to do it, your mother will personally kill you."

Varek tried to say something but stopped, knowing it was true.

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Vampire Realm — Progenitor Castle

Lucien exhaled a long breath, his gaze fixed on Lilith, who sat frozen in a daze, not even blinking. Her stillness was unnerving—like a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering.

Behind him, Nyssa struck his shoulder with a sharp slap. Her voice was a strained whisper, thick with unshed tears.

"Did you find her? Did you find Zara?" she hissed. "Grace won’t cooperate. Not until she sees her. You know that."

Lucien’s shoulders slumped as he slowly shook his head. No words were needed.

Nyssa’s fists trembled at her sides. Her body shook, each breath forced through clenched teeth, emotions threatening to burst like a dam.

Across the room, Seris sat quietly beside the bed, gently wrapping fresh bandages around Grace’s fractured arm. The young vampire barely reacted, her empty gaze fixed on the ceiling above, lips moving in a ghostly murmur.

"Where is my wife...?" Grace whispered, her voice hollow. "Come back to me. I swear, I’ll love you right this time. I’ll tie you to my bed just so you can never disappear again. I’ll hold your hand... every second..."

Her vacant eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, as if trying to project Zara’s face onto the cracks in the stone above her.

Lilith sat nearby, equally lost, her eyes flicking occasionally between the floor and her thigh, where her trembling fingers traced invisible patterns.

’It’s been a week now... I can’t take it anymore... I want to see her face so badly...’

Seris turned her head sharply toward Lucien, her crimson eyes burning with fury.

"Husband," she said through clenched teeth, "where did that damn Dhampir bitch go? I swear I’ll beat her until she tells me the cure to her cursed magic. Grace needs her regeneration back!"

Lucien held her gaze for a moment, his expression conflicted, then looked away, his voice heavy with frustration.

"I don’t know. She has full control over her powers now—it’s almost impossible to track her. And if I’d tried to follow her back then, I’m certain that madwoman would’ve hurt our daughters."

A cold silence filled the room until Nyssa stepped forward, her fists trembling at her sides. A wave of red aura burst from her body, rippling with rage. A spear materialized in her hand, its crimson shaft glowing faintly with a blue hue—an ancient weapon bound to her bloodline.

"Then I’ll find her myself," Nyssa snarled. "And I’ll kill her with my own hands."

Lucien sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. Then, stepping behind Nyssa, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly in a desperate attempt to soothe the anger inside her.

"My love... You know her magic isn’t normal. Even if we slit her throat, she won’t die. The only way to stop her temporarily was her core—and that’s not in our possession anymore."

Nyssa stood rigid in his arms. Her mind was only thinking of her daughter’s injury.

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