Heavenly Temple

As they left the station, Shivaay couldn't stop staring at the view in front of him. The massive buildings in European style made it feel like Rome. There was a huge clock tower, a large dome-shaped building with vibrant colours—it was beyond his imagination that such a beautiful place could exist.

These structures were probably constructed using chakra power, as they were much more detailed and beautiful than anything he had seen in his previous world. This was the capital city of the Vulture Empire, and no other city could match its grandeur.

After enjoying the view, the whole family went to a roadside shop to buy some souvenirs. His parents had been here before, and his father had even been posted here, so he was well familiar with the roads and some shop owners.

They enjoyed several happy occasions, catching up with previous comrades and visiting shops, but it was finally time to bring their son to the Heavenly Temple where the ceremony would begin.

Shivaay could see the Heavenly Temple from afar, perched on top of one of the hills. The entire hill was white, giving it a majestic view. On another hill among many, there stood a golden palace.

His father had told him that the golden palace belonged to the royal family and that it was where they lived. Both hills were likely protected by some of the most powerful individuals in the Vulture Empire.

As parents were only allowed up to this point, Shivaay's parents bid him farewell, and they both returned to their hotel room. He approached the hill of the Heavenly Temple and saw thousands of children milling about in the plaza.

Some were in groups, possibly knowing each other from before, while others kept to themselves.

Like the others, he also went near the plaza wall, minding his own business since he didn't know anyone or what else to do. He waited, taking out his ticket, which each child received during birth registration. His parents had kept the ticket safely for all these years, as each child got only one chance, even the prince.

"Hello, what's your ticket number?" A dark-skinned boy with sturdy muscles approached him, holding his ticket. He appeared to be the same age as Shivaay.

"721."

"Wow, mine is 720. What a coincidence. I'm ahead of you. Where are you from? Are you alone? What's your name?"

"I'm Shivaay. And you?"

"I'm Abhay."

They both started chatting about their birthplaces and what their parents did. Abhay's parents were both businessmen, but he wanted to become a warrior, so he had worked hard since childhood, making his muscles bulky.

Time passed.

"No. 720, please enter the temple."

"At last, my turn. Shivaay, I'll catch up with you after the ceremony. Let's spar after that."

"I'm always ready," Shivaay said with his eyes closed.

Abhay left, and after some time, Shivaay was called as well. He entered the temple.

Inside, he found a majestic hall adorned with engravings of various gods and goddesses on the walls. Twenty priests in white robes stood behind each door, holding pen and paper.

"No. 721, Shivaay, door number 13," a man in a black robe shouted.

He felt tense as number 13 had been considered unlucky in his previous world.

"Excuse me, does the door number signify anything?"

"No, all the other doors are occupied. If you want to enter, please be quick; you will not get another chance."

Shivaay hastily opened the door and, after passing through a dark tunnel, arrived in a dome shaped room.

An old man with a white beard sat in a chair, reading a book. Next to him was a round silver crystal on a table. Apart from these, there was nothing else in the room. Shivaay was disappointed, as he had expected something more amazing inside.

"Write your ticket number and your name in the register, and then place your hands on the crystal," the old man said without taking his eyes off the book.

Shivaay quickly went to write his name, not wanting to anger the old man. He had learned from novels that old people could be the most dangerous ones. And, of course, he didn't want to die.

After swiftly writing his ticket number and name, Shivaay placed his hand on the surface of the silver crystal. For a few seconds, nothing happened, but then the crystal turned a deep shade of blue, and silver electric currents danced within it. The old man watched in astonishment, clearly not expecting this.

The dark blue hue, combined with the silver lightning, surged into Shivaay's body, coursing through his hands and spreading to every part of his body. Agonizing pain enveloped him, and he desperately wanted to withdraw his hand from the crystal, but his body seemed unresponsive. It felt as if his body was ravenous, and the lightning was its nourishment.

As a boy who had practiced swordsmanship for five years, he knew he had to endure this trial, or he might never wake up again.

Outside, chaos reigned. The sky above the temple was shrouded in clouds, punctuated by intermittent lightning strikes. All the high-level individuals could sense the dense chakra energy gathering above the temple—a phenomenon that occurred when one was blessed by a high-level god.

On a nearby hill, a boy observed the spectacle. He had golden hair, sharp features, and piercing blue eyes. Despite looking like a thirteen-year-old, maturity shone in his gaze.

"Sis, it seems like someone here is truly talented," the boy remarked.

His sister, who shared his facial features but appeared significantly older, gazed at him with a melancholic expression.

"Don't be disheartened, brother. We still have the Outlaw Temple. I'm certain you'll receive your blessing there."

"The Outlaw Temple? What are you suggesting? I've been rejected even by the Heavenly Temple. How low do you want me to sink? And where can we possibly find an Outlaw Temple? All the temples have either been destroyed or are deeply concealed."

"Still—"

"I think it's time we accept our fate. I no longer have the strength. I'm sorry, sis." With those words, the boy jumped from the hill, landing gracefully on the ground.

"No, I won't surrender to fate. I have to find a way. Perhaps someone can help me," the young girl thought, gazing toward the distant Heavenly Temple.

As the ceremony concluded, the turmoil outside subsided. Shivaay could be seen on his knees, breathing heavily. 

"Congratulations, son. You've obtained something that even an old man like me would envy. After resting for five minutes, you can leave... There are still many people waiting," the old man said, returning to his book.

Shivaay knew which god had blessed him. The image of the deity had appeared in his life wheel during his painful ordeal. While others could only gauge it from the energy he emitted, Shivaay was aware that he had received a blessing from a high-level god—the mighty Lord Indra, the king of heaven and the controller of rain and thunder. This was the reason behind the dramatic events outside.

Excitement surged within him. He had been blessed by a god ranked among the top ten high gods. Shivaay also understood that he might not be the only one to receive such a blessing.

However, only one or two individuals received such blessings every year in the Vulture Empire, and the most coveted of all was the blessing bestowed upon the Vulture Emperor himself.

The last commoner to receive such an honor nearly a decade ago,was also among the most powerful figures of the empire and held a respected status.

These chosen few were regarded as the empire's pillars, nurtured and protected with great care.

One or two every year, Shivaay nearly shouted with excitement. He resisted the urge to release his chakra; it was forbidden in the temple and could be deemed a criminal act.

Slowly, he rose and began to make his way toward the room's front exit. His sole desire was to go outside, test his newfound powers, show them to his parents, and confront his uncle.

However, he knew he had a long journey ahead of him to achieve those goals.