“I’ll ask the second question,” Mr. Cancer said, adjusting his posture slightly. “Beneath each of our constellations, there’s a row of markers. I suspect these indicate the activation level of the Fate Stars tied to our Divine Relics. The three of us have already discussed this—we need your input to verify the theory. Of course, if you consider that private, you’re free not to answer.”
But his tone left no real room for refusal.
Li Xin glanced at the constellation in front of him. Below his symbol, nine small stars were dim and unlit. Miss Aries had one star lit. Taurus and Cancer each had two glowing stars. In this space, apart from their blurred figures and the statue’s features, everything else was crystal clear.
Li Xin didn’t answer right away. Mr. Cancer continued, “I don’t think it’s that private. Divine Relics and what powers they grant—that’s the real core. Since we’re all here, we should show some team spirit,” he said blandly. “I’ve had two stars lit for a while now.”
Li Xin gave an awkward chuckle. “Ahem… Sorry, but could I ask—what is a Fate Star? Or rather, what does a Divine Relic’s Fate Star even mean? Can that count as a question?”
The table fell silent. No one expected something quite that absurd. For a moment, the grand mystique of the Zodiac Celestial Disc lost some of its shine.
“How the hell did you get summoned in here if you don’t even know what a Fate Star is?” Mr. Cancer said, disbelief creeping into his voice. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what the Sacred Grounds are either.”
Li Xin nodded with disarming sincerity. “You’re right. I don’t. And I’d like to count that as another question.”
A newcomer had to accept their role. Pride wouldn’t help. What seemed obvious to others was often the most important—and exactly what he lacked.
The three were visibly stunned. This was beyond strange. He had a Divine Relic powerful enough to summon him here, and yet… no knowledge of Fate Stars or Sacred Grounds? How had he gotten his relic?
Did he pick it up off the street? Steal it?
Mr. Cancer’s back straightened instinctively. His voice grew louder, but also slightly warmer.
“Does your church or family just not care about you? Didn’t teach you any of this?” he asked. “Fate Stars are simple to understand. We don’t really own our Divine Relics—we’re just vessels that were chosen. Only by gradually deepening our mastery over the relic can we truly wield its power. The marker of that mastery is the activation of a Fate Star. Lighting your first star grants you the Eye of Revelation. Some awakened beings can obtain it on their own, but it’s a long and painful process. With a Divine Relic, it’s much easier. Each time you awaken a star, you might receive a god’s blessing—typically in the form of increased psionic strength or a longer lifespan. Those blessed by the divine even gain powers beyond mortal limits. These powers can evolve further as more Fate Stars are unlocked.”
That was the allure of Divine Relics—their immense power and godlike potential made them irresistible, even with the danger.
“Thank you, Mr. Cancer. It looks like your third star is faintly glowing. Does that mean it’s close to activating?” Li Xin asked. “Sorry—I may be out of questions now.”
“I can still answer that,” Mr. Cancer said, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Yes, it’s close. And I’ll add this: unlocking your first star guarantees the Eye of Revelation. But having the Eye doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve unlocked a star.”
“There’s no need to overthink it, Mr. Gemini,” Miss Aries said gently. “Lighting even one Fate Star means you’re exceptional. It shows high compatibility with your relic—and solid performance in the Sacred Grounds. Mr. Cancer is quite impressive.”
“You flatter me,” Mr. Cancer replied smoothly. His voice grew soft and pleased, his chin lifting slightly as he looked at Li Xin. This Gemini… was really starting to grow on him.
Li Xin kept it brief. “I knew nothing about Fate Stars before this. By your explanation, it seems I haven’t activated any. And I’ve never been to the Sacred Grounds.”
That so-called precognitive “dice roll” must just be something the Die itself wanted to show him. It had little to do with his own will. Whether the stars in front of him represented Fate Stars or not wasn’t the point—he chose to stay cautious.
“There’s no rush, Mr. Gemini,” Miss Aries reassured him. “Fate Stars are gifts from the gods. What matters most is doing your part. I believe the power of a Divine Relic is just one element—your psionic cultivation and combat skill are just as important. We don’t yet know why the Celestial Disc summoned us, but I still believe we were all chosen by fate. And we’re clearly meant to cross paths. As long as we respect the secrecy of our churches or families, this is a great space for sharing knowledge about the occult.”
Li Xin agreed wholeheartedly. Of the four, he needed this knowledge the most. “Mr. Taurus, your turn.”
Mr. Taurus stared at him silently. “You’ve never entered the Sacred Grounds. You don’t seem to be using any stabilizing elixirs. So how do you deal with the side effects of your Divine Relic?”
Miss Aries and Mr. Cancer perked up. They were curious too.
The side effects of a Divine Relic were potent—and subtle. They slowly warped the vessel. Simply refusing to use the relic wouldn’t make the danger go away. There were two known solutions, both widely acknowledged by churches and major families: expensive elixirs that calmed the relic’s influence, or purging the effects by tempering oneself within the Sacred Grounds.
The former gave control to families and churches. The latter was risky—and still required outside help.
From the looks of it, Gemini didn’t seem to have backing from either.
The fact that he was still alive at all was a miracle.
Li Xin spread his hands helplessly. “My method? If I don’t have to use it, I don’t. I mostly rely on burning off emotions and brute-force willpower. Lock myself up if I have to.”
Silence fell over the table.
In the church or in noble houses, power struggles and resource hoarding were the norm. Just because you had a Divine Relic didn’t mean you’d be nurtured. Some were simply treated as disposable vessels.
Mr. Cancer looked at him with a rare trace of pity. “You’ve had it rough. But meeting us might be your lucky break. Your methods will fall apart eventually. That kind of pressure will break you.”
“Mr. Gemini, we can’t advise you on balancing your relic,” Mr. Taurus added somberly. “Every relic’s secret is unique. You’ll have to find your own path. But I can answer your earlier question about the Sacred Grounds.”
“The Sacred Grounds are older than the gods we know today. One belief says they formed after the Twilight of the Gods—at the end of the Fourth Era, beginning of the Fifth. Another theory claims they were created by the Supreme Creator—who built the world in six days and fell into slumber on the seventh, leaving behind his divine authority. Those who pass the trials within may claim that authority… and take his place in guiding the world.”
“Era?” Li Xin asked, completely lost.
“We’re now in the Sixth Era,” Mr. Taurus explained patiently, “called the Kingdom-Church Era of the Daoyuan Continent. The Truth Gate to the Sacred Grounds originates from the papal era of the Fifth Era. According to the Daoyuan calendar, on the seventh day, anyone who has awakened psionic energy and bonded with a Divine Relic can enter the Sacred Grounds through the Gate of Truth.”
“As for what lies inside—accounts vary. Some say it holds the path to godhood. Others believe it’s a holy realm that sings praise to the Supreme Creator or their personal deity. But one thing is certain: training there does help purge a relic’s side effects.”
He spoke slowly, deliberately, with impressive composure.
“The general consensus is that the Sacred Grounds exist outside the soul world, the Abyss, and the physical world. Everyone who enters faces a different trial—but they’re always unpredictable, and always dangerous.”
“Don’t worry too much, Mr. Gemini,” Miss Aries added brightly. “The Sacred Grounds are protected by the Supreme God. As long as your faith is strong, the outcome will always be for the best. It’s both a test and a blessing.”
Off to the side, Mr. Cancer allowed himself a confident smirk. In the Sacred Grounds, what truly mattered was strength and knowledge. And not everyone had those.
It was a lot to take in. The elixir route was out—he wasn’t about to go knocking on the castle’s door. And even the three of them described the Sacred Grounds differently. Taurus emphasized its danger. Aries saw it as beautiful. The only consensus: it worked on any Divine Relic. Like a universal cure.
Li Xin gave a polite nod. “Thank you all for the clarification. I’ve learned a lot. I’ll do my best. The Celestial Disc is eternal—but the summoned are not. I’ll try not to be the first one eliminated.”
This place wasn’t created for them, nor would it disappear when they were gone. The others seemed to sense it too—this Gemini had no mental baggage. Optimistic. Kind of a fun guy.
Then again, with what he’d been through, how else could he have survived? For awakened ones, the greatest blessing was gaining a Divine Relic—and the greatest curse was being treated as a disposable vessel.
At that moment, Aries, Taurus, and Cancer exchanged a glance. Mr. Taurus’s gaze dimmed slightly.
“In this conversation,” he said at last, “Mr. Gemini has shown sincerity and honesty. Allow me to officially welcome you as a member of the Round Table.”
Taurus had unlocked his Fate Stars—and along with that power came a gift: the ability to detect lies.