The main church of the Northern Frost Dragon Empire is an awe-inspiring edifice that stands as a testament to the intricate fusion of architectural grandeur and religious fervor. Situated in the heart of the Empire’s capital, the church takes up an expansive piece of land, so large that it takes several minutes just to walk from one end of the property to the other.

Constructed primarily from white marble, quarried from the rare alabaster mountains to the north, the church gleams in the sunlight, its imposing form visible from miles away. A series of tall, slender spires rise toward the sky, and ornate buttresses offer both support and decoration. The whole structure is infused with an ethereal glow, thanks to thousands of inset diamonds and crystals that catch and refract the light. Stained glass windows, rich with depictions of angelic beings and holy scriptures, adorn the walls, creating kaleidoscopic patterns of light within the hallowed interior.

The most striking feature, however, is the statue that crowns the church. Carved with painstaking detail, a life-sized statue of the White Dragon King graces the highest spire. With wings outstretched, it seems almost as if he’s poised to take flight, gazing down benevolently upon the masses below. The statue is coated in a layer of luminescent material that makes it shimmer with an otherworldly light, especially under the moon and stars. It’s a sight that would take anyone’s breath away, underscoring the narrative that this man was an angel descended from heaven.

Inside, the central nave of the church is no less opulent. Rows of intricately carved pews provide seating for hundreds, and the altar at the front is a magnificent work of art made from gold, silver, and precious stones. Wall frescoes tell the story of the White Dragon King’s supposed descent from the heavens and his acts of kindness and valor, reinforcing the church’s carefully crafted narrative.

Surrounding the main building are gardens, fountains, and smaller chapels dedicated to various saints and archangels, adding to the sense of sanctity and divinity that pervades the area.

All these architectural details serve to perpetuate the myth of the White Dragon King as an angel, a narrative that has been handed down through generations and is deeply imprinted in the psyche of the common folk. The sheer size and grandiosity of the church amplify its message, making it easier for the people to believe in the divine nature of their once-living king.

Inside the church_____

Inside the sprawling, opulent main hall of the church’s inner sanctum, a long, rectangular table stood as the centerpiece. Made of dark mahogany and inlaid with gold, the table was surrounded by 12 regal chairs, each one ornately designed to symbolize the importance of the person who would occupy it. Seated in these chairs were the pillars of the Church: the Holy Son, the Holy Knight Captain, the Head Nun, and other figures of great influence and power. Each person radiated authority, yet their faces wore expressions of solemnity.

One chair, however, remained conspicuously empty. It was a chair that once belonged to the White Dragon King, the supposed founder of the Church. Since his death, the chair had stood vacant, a symbol of the missing Emperor of the Northern Frost Dragon Empire. As if in reverence, or perhaps out of superstition, no one had ever sat in it since his passing.

In the room, silence hung heavy, as thick and palpable as the incense-laden air. Not a single whisper, not a rustle of fabric; it was as if the very walls were holding their breath, waiting. The tension was only broken when footsteps echoed in the corridor, signaling the arrival of someone important.

The Church had long claimed that the White Dragon King was an angelic emissary of God. For over 500 years, they had been leveraging his charismatic legend to their advantage. Many people had heard tales or even claimed to have seen the White Dragon King, and his extreme good looks and angelic wings only fueled their beliefs. Through carefully crafted stories and outright lies, the Church had been wildly successful in convincing the common folk that the White Dragon King was nothing less than a celestial being who had graced the earth.

But behind the mask of piety, the Church’s intentions were far from divine. Ever since the death of the White Dragon King, the Church had transitioned under the almost dictatorial control of the Pope. In this shadowy room, where decisions that shaped the destiny of an empire were made, these so-called holy men and women plotted not for the spiritual well-being of their flock but for more worldly gains. Their smiles masked their true natures, their grand robes concealed hearts filled with greed and lust for power. While claiming to be the voice of divinity, they had turned the institution into a mechanism for manipulation and control. In the name of a long-dead king who may not even approve of their actions, they conspired, knowing that their manipulated narrative would keep the ignorant masses in line.

“His Holiness, Pope Alaric, has arrived,” announced a deep voice, filled with a reverence that bordered on awe. The heavy wooden doors swung open and in walked the Pope, flanked by two imposing figures dressed in shining armor—beginner 5th-order Holy Knights, their faces stern and eyes vigilant. The entire room immediately shifted its focus to the Pope, a signal that the important meeting could finally commence.

His face wore a perpetual, gentle smile, the kind designed to put anyone at ease. It was a smile that had deceived nations, won the trust of countless followers, and belied his true intentions. For behind that mask of amiability and concern lurked a soul tainted with greed, a heart corrupted by unquenchable lust for power. But none could see that—his image was meticulously curated, a facade so convincing that even those who sat closest to him in this hallowed room would find it hard to believe the darkness that resided within him.

As Pope Alaric took his seat at the head of the table, the room seemed to exhale a collective breath. The meeting could now begin, and with it, another chapter in the Church’s long history of manipulation and control, carefully hidden behind the mask of this seemingly kind and gentle old man.

“Ah, greetings to you all! My apologies for keeping you waiting,” Pope Alaric said as he settled into his lavishly crafted chair at the head of the table. Though his smile radiated warmth and kindness, everyone around the table had to fight the urge to roll their eyes. They were well aware of the old man’s true character. The world might view him as a saint, a benevolent figure committed to the well-being of all creatures, but those within the inner circle knew better. Pope Alaric was driven by an insatiable greed, an alarming degree of self-interest, and worse still, perverse inclinations that led him to exploit the women and nuns under the guise of religious devotion.

“Now, I’m certain you’ve all heard the news,” Pope Alaric continued, his tone shifting to one of gravity. The solemnity swept through the room, affecting everyone seated around the elongated table. They had indeed heard the news and were all taken aback by the audacity of Pope Alaric’s recent declaration. He had publically denounced the Istarin Empire and its ruler, Emperor Aditya, laying all blame for the chaos at their doorstep and labeling them as agents of evil and corruption.

And yet, the irony of it all was not lost on them. Since the death of the White Dragon King, their empire had been mired in a complex, never-ending civil war. Siblings and half-siblings, armed with the support of factions within the military and the noble class, were waging a bloody struggle for the throne. The church, with its overwhelming influence and sway over the population, could have intervened and steered the empire toward peace. But they chose not to. Instead, Pope Alaric and his inner sanctum focused on amassing more power and wealth, letting the coffers of the church overflow with gold coins even as the empire crumbled in agony.

Pope Alaric knew that this downward spiral couldn’t last indefinitely. Sooner or later, someone would have to be held accountable for the suffering and chaos. And so, he found the perfect scapegoats: their neighboring Istarin Empire and its potent ruler, Emperor Aditya.

By pushing all the blame onto them, Pope Alaric had not only diverted attention away from his own dark machinations but also managed to paint himself as a savior, upholding the church’s so-called righteous values. And all this while hiding behind the ever-convincing mask of a kind, gentle old man.

—————-

Really Thank you very much to all those who sends support with valuable golden tickets. I hope we can keep it up!!!

And this is the last chapter of this month. I know that at the starting of this month, I made lots of promises to upload bonus chapters along with two regular chapters but it seems I was unable to do any of that. Since Summer has ended and everyone has reopened, my schedule is getting tighter, leaving me with not so much time to write. For september, I will upload 9 to 10 chapters per week depending on how much time I have on my hand. Along with that, I will also try to release Bonus chapters.

My apologies.