"Descendants of the Gummy People, Mixteco Divine Race… go to the Divine Kingdom!"
"Alliance nobles, titles granted for military merit… enfeoffed with Fiefs in the Land Amidst the Clouds!"
The Sun slowly sank westward; Sacrifices mounted the platform and fell again, Samurai bowed to the ground to give thanks. The cheers and shouts of tens of thousands, like an unbroken backdrop, drifted far across the Highland amid the Clouds. By the time night fell that day, enough Divine Blood had been collected in the Bronze Tripod, blended with the prepared wine, and distributed to the excited Alliance Warriors and the numb Mistec Chieftains.
A Divine War victory ceremony of this scale—ten thousand strong, blood-soaked and resplendent, grand to the extreme—would likely only be held once more, and then never again!
