Under the overwhelming influx of countless specks of golden light, Lina's frail body began to undergo a transformation so profound that it could only be described as miraculous.
Moments ago, she had looked like a child standing at death's door—her skin gray and lifeless, her cheeks hollow, her breathing shallow and uneven. Now, as the golden radiance poured into her like a warm tide, those signs of decay were swept away one by one.
The ashen pallor of her complexion faded rapidly, replaced by a healthy, rosy glow. Her sunken eye sockets slowly filled out, restoring the brightness and liveliness a child her age should possess. The dullness in her eyes vanished, replaced by a clear, innocent light.
Her arms and legs, once as thin as brittle twigs, began to fill with vitality. Flesh returned at a visible pace, muscles knitting themselves together as if guided by an unseen hand. In mere breaths, her limbs became plump and elastic, brimming with youthful energy.
It was as though time itself had been reversed.
Within moments, the little girl who had seemed destined to die young no longer existed.
Standing in her place was a beautiful, healthy child with a rosy face and smooth, delicate skin—skin even finer than that of pampered noble young ladies who had never known hunger or hardship.
The temple fell into a stunned silence.
"This… this is impossible…" someone whispered, their voice trembling. "It can even cure terminal illness. This is no mere miracle—this is the power of a True God!"
"We believe!" another cried out, voice breaking with emotion. "We believe in the one and only True God!"
The believers stared in mute shock, mouths hanging open, eyes wide as if they feared blinking might shatter the scene before them.
What they had witnessed went far beyond the petty tricks of priests or the hollow rituals surrounding the so-called Sun Wheel. Those institutions only took from the people, offering vague promises and the occasional cheap illusion in return.
This was different.
This "Sun God" had displayed dominion over life itself.
Only such an existence was worthy of absolute devotion.
When the healing reached its completion, Karl El subtly adjusted the golden light-and-shadow Incarnation, allowing it to flicker unsteadily. The radiant figure dimmed slightly, its outline wavering as though it might disperse at any moment.
The change did not go unnoticed.
Geral's expression shifted instantly. The ecstasy on his face was replaced by naked anxiety as he hurried forward several steps, nearly stumbling in his haste.
"My God!" he cried out urgently. "What's wrong? Have we displeased you somehow?!"
From within the shimmering light came Karl El's voice. It was gentle as ever, but now carried a deliberate hint of weakness.
"It is nothing," the voice said calmly. "I have merely expended a portion of my power."
There was a pause—long enough to let the words sink in.
"With believers as devout as yourselves," Karl El continued, his tone deepening, "this consumption will recover in time. However… for a short while, I may not be able to answer your prayers in this manner again."
The words struck the hearts of the believers like a heavy hammer.
Their emotions surged violently.
Geral's eyes turned red almost instantly. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the blood that had yet to fully dry from earlier. His body trembled as overwhelming gratitude and guilt warred within him.
How benevolent their god was.
He knew that such a miracle demanded an immense price—that healing Lina meant weakening himself, perhaps even risking a period of dormancy.
And yet, for the daughter of a humble believer, the god had acted without hesitation.
"My God…" Geral choked. His voice faltered, unable to carry the weight of his emotions.
He gently placed his hand on Lina's head.
The little girl was still somewhat dazed, but she could clearly feel it—her body was light, warm, and full of strength. The pain that had haunted her day and night was gone, as though it had never existed.
In a trembling voice, Geral urged her, "Lina, quickly… thank the Sun God for his blessing. It was My God who saved you. He has given you a new life."
Guided by her father, Lina looked up at the mass of golden light hovering above. Though it flickered faintly, it radiated a warmth that made her feel safe and close, as if she were basking in sunlight on a spring afternoon.
She didn't fully understand what a "god" was.
But she understood this much—the light had chased away the terrible things inside her that had caused her suffering.
Awkwardly, yet with utmost sincerity, Lina knelt down. Her movements were clumsy, but her expression was solemn. In a soft, childish voice tinged with shyness, she said:
"Thank you… My God."
The golden Incarnation nodded slightly in response.
Then, like mist evaporating beneath the rising sun, the divine light gradually faded. The radiance thinned, dispersed, and finally vanished entirely from the temple.
What remained were faint motes of light still drifting through the air—and a hall full of believers frozen in awe, their hearts burning with faith more intense than ever before.
At the same moment, Karl El's consciousness snapped back like a stretched cord, instantly retracting from the distant borders of Nilfgaard and returning to his true body within the Quiet Room of the Terra Temple.
His eyes slowly opened.
A faint dizziness rippled through his mind, like the aftereffect of waking from a deep dream. He raised a hand and rubbed his temples, feeling the mild mental fatigue lingering there.
"It seems that projecting my will across thousands of kilometers still puts a significant strain on the mind," he murmured to himself. "For now, it's pushing the limit."
Yet when he considered the results, the cost felt more than acceptable.
In just over a month, Geral had not only established a foothold in unfamiliar territory—he had successfully organized a serf uprising.
Hundreds of people crushed beneath oppression had found hope through the Solar Faith. Their belief was not shallow or performative; it was forged through despair and salvation, making it exceptionally resilient.
Judging by the atmosphere in that temple alone, the number of believers was clearly no longer limited to a few hundred.
This was no longer a spark.
It was a stronghold.
Once faith began spreading in clusters rather than individuals, its growth would resemble a rolling snowball—accelerating faster and faster with every turn.
Karl El could already foresee it.
In the near future, Geral and the Solar Faith he propagated would ignite massive upheaval within Nilfgaard—clashes between true and false divinity, between rulers and the oppressed, between old power structures and emerging belief.
After adjusting his breathing and steadying his mind, Karl El stood up and pushed open the door of the Quiet Room.
The courtyard outside was bathed in afternoon sunlight. Golden rays poured down from above, coating the land in warmth.
Karl El tilted his head back, letting the sun shine directly onto his face.
Almost instantly, his body responded.
The lingering grogginess caused by long-distance mental projection vanished without a trace. Energy surged through him, smooth and vibrant, as if every cell were rejoicing.
"Sunbathing really is wonderful," he said with a stretch. Power flowed joyfully within him.
He grinned, revealing a row of pearly white teeth.
"I'm really starting to like it more and more."
But before the smile could fully settle, his earlobes twitched.
His hearing—far beyond that of ordinary humans—picked up faint sounds drifting from the direction of the distant inn. Though weakened by walls and distance, they were unmistakable.
A woman's intermittent moans.
Interwoven with low, heavy panting from a man.
And the subtle creaking of a wooden bed struggling under strain.
Karl El's smile froze.
His expression darkened at a visible pace.
"…."
Without changing posture, he calmly filtered out that specific frequency from that specific direction.
He glanced helplessly toward the inn, shook his head, and muttered, "Those two… really are made for each other."
"After they finish arguing, they start fighting. After fighting, they somehow end up like this… and then they'll probably go back to arguing again."
Night arrived as expected.
Within the Quiet Room deep inside the temple, Karl El focused on sorting the Power of Faith gathered from Nilfgaard during the day. He carefully stripped away distracting personal thoughts and excessive fanaticism, refining the energy into something purer—stable, condensed, and suitable for long-term storage.
When the process was complete, he rose once more.
As he always did, he prepared to ascend into the sky—toward the domain closest to the sun—where he would continue refining and strengthening his growing Divine Power.
The light of faith followed him upward, steady and unwavering.
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