The ethereal beauty of the Divine Domain continued to astound Henry as he and the other newly born angels were led through its vast expanse. Lush greenery, vibrant with life, surrounded them, and the sky above was a canvas of shimmering light that seemed to change hues with every breath. The air was filled with the harmonious melody of nature, a peaceful contrast to the world Henry had left behind.
As they walked, a sense of anticipation grew within the group. They were being guided to the Weapons Hall by an mysteries force.
A grant building known as the Weapons Hall loomed ahead, an imposing structure of marble and gold that seemed to radiate with a light of its own. Massive pillars carved with intricate designs of nature's beauty lined the entrance, and the great doors, adorned with images of celestial beings, slowly opened as the angels approached.
Inside, the hall was a sight to behold. Rows upon rows of divine weapons were displayed on pedestals, each one glowing faintly with an aura of its own. Swords that shimmered like the sun, bows crafted from the purest silver, shields that gleamed with an inner light—each weapon was a masterpiece, forged for a specific purpose by the hands of the gods.
Henry's eyes widened as he took in the sight, his heart beating faster. This was it—the moment he had been waiting for. The system within him hummed quietly, a reassuring presence that had guided him since his rebirth.
As the angels filed into the hall, a figure descended from above, her presence commanding instant respect and awe. Archangel Suriel, their leader and guide, floated down gracefully, her wings unfurled like a halo of light. Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her eyes, sharp and clear, held the wisdom of countless centuries. Her very aura radiated power and authority, and Henry could immediately sense that she was a being far above the others in the hierarchy.
"Welcome, young ones," Suriel's voice was both warm and firm, carrying the weight of her authority. "Today, you will choose the weapons that will accompany you on your divine journey. These weapons are not mere tools; they are extensions of your will, bonded to your very essence. Choose wisely, for your weapon will guide your path in the service of the Goddess."
Henry watched her closely, noting the respect she commanded from the other angels. There was no doubt in his mind that Suriel was a force to be reckoned with—an archangel who had earned her place at the top through strength, wisdom, and perhaps, a ruthlessness that Henry couldn't help but admire.
Before anyone could move, the hall began to fill with a warm, radiant light that enveloped everything in its glow. The angels, including Henry, instinctively bowed their heads as the presence of Goddess Boltia herself manifested in the center of the hall.
Boltia appeared as a figure of unmatched grace and beauty, her form shimmering with the colors of nature. Flowers bloomed at her feet with every step she took, and the air around her seemed to hum with life. Her eyes, a deep emerald green, held a kindness that put the angels at ease, yet there was an undeniable power beneath the surface—an authority that came with being the Goddess of Nature.
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"My dear children," Boltia spoke, her voice as soothing as a gentle breeze, "I welcome you into my service. Each of you has been born with a purpose, and today, you shall take your first step in fulfilling that destiny. Choose your weapons, and may they serve you well in protecting the balance of nature."
The angels responded with a chorus of reverent acknowledgments, their hearts filled with devotion and purpose. But Henry, though he bowed his head like the others, was focused on something else. The system within him, silent until now, suddenly became active, guiding his thoughts toward a specific weapon in the hall—a weapon that seemed to call out to him.
As the angels dispersed to examine the various weapons, Henry followed the system's guidance, his steps leading him to a pedestal near the far end of the hall. There, resting upon a bed of velvet, was a staff unlike any other he had seen. It was slender and elegant, crafted from a material that seemed to glow with a soft, inner light. At its top, a censer—a vessel used to burn incense—was attached, from which tendrils of sacred smoke curled upward, vanishing into the air.
This was the Censer-Staff of Sacred Light, a weapon known for its immense power in purifying and protecting, but also for its complexity and difficulty to wield. Henry's fingers brushed the staff's surface, and he felt a connection, as if the weapon recognized him as its rightful owner.
"It's perfect," the system whispered in his mind. "This weapon is best suited to you. It holds the potential to grow with your power and will aid you in your ascent."
Henry's mind raced. He knew enough about angelic lore to understand that this weapon was not one to be taken lightly. It required precision, discipline, and a deep understanding of the divine arts. Yet, the system assured him that this was his path, and who was he to argue with such certainty?
As he reached out to take the staff, a shadow fell over him. He looked up to see Suriel standing before him, her expression unreadable.
"That is a powerful weapon," she said, her voice carrying a note of concern. "The Censer-Staff of Sacred Light is not an easy tool to master. Many angels before you have tried, and few have succeeded. Are you certain this is the weapon you wish to choose?"
Henry met her gaze, his resolve hardening. "Yes," he replied with a steady voice. "This is the weapon for me."
Suriel studied him for a moment, her eyes searching for any sign of doubt. When she found none, she nodded slowly. "Very well. But remember, the power of the staff is not just in its light, but in the purity of the heart that wields it. You must be prepared to face the challenges that come with it."
Henry nodded, his grip tightening around the staff. He could feel the weight of her words, but he also felt the thrill of the challenge ahead. He would prove himself worthy of this weapon and use it to carve his path to power.
As Suriel moved on to assist the other angels, Henry took a deep breath, feeling the sacred light of the staff resonate with his own. This was only the beginning, and he knew the path ahead would be fraught with difficulty. But with the system guiding him and the Censer-Staff in his hands, he was confident that he could overcome anything.