The chosen site was a swathe of barren, dusty land west of the capital, a thousand-acre testament to years of neglect and poor soil. It was a place of cracked earth and struggling weeds. The place Lillia chose looked more like the setting for a funeral than a miracle.
Cracked earth. Dry wind. A lonely stretch of barren land east of the capital—empty, thirsty, forgotten. Nothing had grown here in years, maybe decades. Alexius could still see the broken remnants of old furrows where farmers had once tried, and failed, to make the land bear fruit.
But Lillia had insisted.
"This land is tired, not cursed," she'd told him on the way, brushing her silver hair aside with a wind-chilled hand. "It remembers life. It just needs someone to remind it how to hope again."
She had requested his presence—only his. Not the court, not even a single mage or priest. Just the sovereign.
"The Goddess needs to see that the ruler of this land still cares. That there is someone willing to kneel for its sake."
So he came.
They stood in the middle of a thousand-acre wasteland, alone but watched from afar. Captain Gregor and a tight ring of Royal Guards maintained a wide perimeter, too far to interfere, close enough to intervene if something went wrong.
Alexius felt exposed. Not in danger, just… bare. There was nothing to hide behind—no throne, no crown, no army. Just him. A man. A king, maybe. Or a fool.
Lillia, by contrast, looked calm. Serene. She wore a simple white robe from the palace stores, the kind priests wore during quiet ceremonies. Her hair fell freely, glowing faintly in the morning sun. No jewels, no makeup. Just her and the land.
She didn't speak. Just knelt.
And gently pressed her hands to the dry earth.
Alexius opened his mouth—then closed it. This wasn't the moment for questions. Not anymore.
The light started slowly. Soft and green, like moonlight through leaves. It pulsed under her fingers. Then runes—shimmering, fluid—began to form, spiraling outward from her hands in graceful, branching patterns. They glowed like fireflies, dancing across the dirt.
Then, she began to sing.
There were no words, just sound. But it wasn't just sound, either.
It was… a river. Wind. The rustling of leaves. The soft hum of the earth underfoot. The ache of something old remembering joy. Her voice carried sorrow, yes, but also fierce hope—hope strong enough to rebuild mountains.
Even the insects stopped buzzing. The birds stopped calling. The entire field held its breath.
Alexius had heard music before—ceremonial chants, battlefield marches, even opera in the capital. But nothing like this. This didn't pass through his ears. It sank into him.
And all the hard, cold parts of him—Michael Sano's calculating mind, Alexius's political mask, the weight of his strategies and plans—they all cracked, just a little.
The light burst from the sky like a curtain parting. A pillar of gold and green engulfed Lillia, yet she didn't flinch. It was like watching a goddess being born.
And then… the earth responded.
The cracked dirt softened.
The color changed—from pale gray to deep, rich brown.
Tiny sprouts, impossibly green, began to push through the soil like they'd been waiting for a signal.
Something broke inside Alexius.
He didn't plan to kneel. He didn't think about it. His knees simply gave in, and he bowed his head—not to her, not even to the Goddess—but to the moment.
Please, he thought, unsure who he was addressing. Please let this work. Please let my people live.
Then, he heard it. Or maybe felt it. A voice—but not a sound. A presence.
Something… ancient.
Ah… I did not expect the third one to appear in such a small, troubled land.
Alexius's heart almost stopped. His mind scrambled. Who… are you?
I am that which gives. That which reclaims. That which listens, I reign over the nature of this world. I am the one and only Goddess of Nature Gaia. Though there are other gods with their expected fields.
The third one? What does that mean? wait she can read my thoughts?
The first brought fire and unity. The second brought reason and wonder. You… you are still deciding who you'll be. But your prayer was true. I can feel how desperate and genuine your prayers are. In return, I offer you a gift or a little help if you want to call.
Warmth surged through him, overwhelming and pure. It rushed from his chest, down through his hands, into the earth. He couldn't stop it. Didn't want to.
She asked for a thousand acres. You asked for your people with all your heart. So let all the land around your city bloom. Let fifty thousand acres rise.
Fifty… thousand…?
He couldn't even breathe.
Do not waste this, little king. Famine will be the least of your trials. We will meet again, when you found your way to the Holy Realm.
Wait! I have so many questions left. he tried to shout, but the voice was already gone—leaving behind the scent of flowers and a silence that felt like an ending.
And a beginning.
His eyes opened.
The light had vanished.
Alexius looked around—and saw the impossible.
Green. Everywhere. Not just the thousand acres. Not just the ritual circle.
Everything.
The plains around Aethelburg, once dead and cracked, now shimmered with life. Shoots, grass, fertile black soil.
His heart thudded painfully in his chest. This was too much. Too good. A prayer answered beyond measure.
His hands trembled as he brought up the System interface.
[System Notification]
Blessing of the Goddess of Nature – Applied to Surrounding Territories (50,000 Acres)
Effect:
All crops planted will mature ten times faster.
Soil will remain fertile for a hundred years.
Afterward, fertility will persist, but growth will return to normal.
Warning: This is a divine gift. Misuse will carry consequences.
He had prayed to stop a single winter's famine.
And the Goddess gave him a century of abundance.
The sky felt brighter. The wind gentler.
It worked.
It really worked.
But even as the miracle unfolded around him, his eyes sought out the one who made it possible.
Lillia was still on her knees.
Her arms hung limply at her sides, her head bowed forward. Her silver hair, once gleaming, now clung damply to her face and back. The emerald runes beneath her hands flickered, then faded into the soil, their work complete.
"Lillia?" he called, his voice sharp with sudden concern.
She didn't answer.
And then—her body tilted.
Alexius was rushing forward to catch her as she collapsed. He reached her just in time, his arms wrapping around her small, trembling frame before she hit the ground.
Her body was cold.
Her breathing shallow.
Her face—so calm just moments ago—was now pale and slack, beads of sweat trickling down her temples.
The ritual had drained her dry.
Alexius held her close, feeling how light she was, andd thought how fragile she is. She had poured every ounce of herself into this land., simply because she could, Because she wanted to help the people in need and not wanted to repeat tradegies of her home country.
He cradled her gently, one hand behind her back, the other supporting her legs. Her robe was soaked through with sweat, and her skin burned faintly with lingering magic.
He whispered,
"Well done… and thank you."
A breeze swept across the reborn field, warm and full of life.
And in his arms, Lillia stirred faintly.
She didn't open her eyes. Her body was still too weak. She is still unconsious. But her lips parted just slightly, a genuie smile, and a soft breath escaped—like a sigh into spring. (Continue….)