Ten minutes passed in the blink of an eye.
The entire Stadium of the Sacred Flame seemed to have been muted, its deathly silence permeated by an almost palpable solemnity.
Countless gazes converged on Mavuika and Ishkab beside her.
Then, as if guided by an invisible will, every Natlanian—whether a warrior clad in tattered armor still stained with blood or a civilian supporting themselves on others, tears still fresh on their faces—slowly closed their eyes, pressed their right hand firmly against their left breast, and felt their heart beating for the dead and for the living.
Amidst the convergence of countless gazes, Mavuika gently closed her eyes, the Sacred Flame gilding her silhouette with a divine golden aura.
Below the dais, the Elder spoke slowly. Unlike his previous address, his voice now resonated with boundless compassion, like the first raindrop falling into a mirror-still lake, its clear sound echoing through the silence:
"The story continues—"
This voice served as a signal.
In the next instant, a thunderous roar erupted from every corner of the Arena.
Tens of thousands of souls forged in the fires of grief, despair, hope, and resilience had found their common ground in this moment.
The sound began as a low, suppressed rumble, then surged forth with the force of a tidal wave, coalescing into a colossal wave of sound that shook the air until it hummed and sent pebbles clattering to the ground.
"Glory passed down through generations—"
The entire nation chanted in unison, their voices crashing like thunderbolts. Each syllable struck the ground with crushing weight, knocking on the slumbering gates of the departed.
This was the roar and prayer of an entire nation's soul!
"Courage lights the sky and earth—"
"Natlan has once again claimed victory—"
"We await you, we sing for you—"
The song stretched into the distance, endless longing and vigil saturating the air. Countless sparks of light drifted from the singers like reverse-flying fireflies, merging into the Pillar of Light emanating from the Sacred Flame.
"Return, brother, return, Hero—"
Each call grew more earnest, each plea more heartbreaking. Many Natlanians, their eyes tightly closed, wept openly as they continued to shout with every ounce of their strength.
"Once more, once more, ignite—!!!"
The final three calls, each louder and more fervent than the last, coalesced into a pure torrent of energy that pierced the heavens and earth.
At that moment, the Sacred Flame swelled to its absolute limit, the Pillar of Light transforming into a solid, crystalline pillar.
Even the perpetually cold and unyielding Fatui Harbingers showed signs of wavering before this indescribable collective will.
A subtle, inexplicable crack appeared on their icy masks.
-
As the final verse of the Ode of Resurrection faded, the Sacred Flame reached its zenith. Ishkab slowly raised her hands, palms upward, as if supporting an invisible weight.
Guided by her gesture, the towering Sacred Flame at the center of the Arena seemed to twist and contort. It divided into countless shimmering particles, like golden runes, which slowly drifted down, enveloping the entire Arena.
An ancient, primordial, and sacred aura began to permeate the air.
Ishkab closed her eyes, her long hair fluttering despite the absence of wind. A soft yet boundless light radiated from her being.
This light emanated from her and gradually enveloped the entire Arena, covering every person within.
Mavuika was the first to be bathed in the light. She felt a gentle energy surge through her body, instantly healing her injuries.
The entire process took less than a second!
The light carried infinite power. As it enveloped the crowd below, warriors with severed limbs regrew their arms, the mortally wounded were instantly healed, and the weary were revitalized...
When the light enveloped Kinich, the injuries on his face healed at a visibly accelerated rate. Ajaw, whom he had been carrying with him, slowly opened his eyes.
"This is..." Kinich murmured, gazing upward at his sister, who was bathed in divine light. In that moment, she radiated an unparalleled beauty!
-
The radiant light engulfed the entire Stadium of the Sacred Flame but didn't stop there, continuing to spread across the entirety of Natlan.
Simultaneously, the Pillars of Light in various tribes began to expand outward.
As the light swept across the former battlefield, Divine Miracles descended upon the land!
Those Natlanian warriors who had fallen on the scorched earth—their bodies mangled, their limbs severed, and their corpses already cold and stiff—were enveloped in golden halos.
Flesh and blood regenerated wildly, as if time itself were flowing backward. Fractured bones reassembled and reformed, lost eyes regained their luster, chests began to rise and fall once more, and frozen blood surged back to life!
One by one, warriors rose from the bloodstained ruins in a daze, staring down at their intact—even strengthened—bodies as if they had just woken from a long, terrifying nightmare.
The scorched, cracked earth, saturated with abyssal toxins, greedily absorbed the pure radiance, like parched land welcoming life-giving rain.
Fissures sealed swiftly, and the scorched soil regained its fertile, dark luster.
Withered plants sprouted new shoots and leaves, growing at a speed visible to the naked eye. In an instant, the landscape transformed into lush greenery, even blossoming with unprecedented, faintly glowing flowers.
Polluted rivers and lakes swiftly cleared to crystal clarity, pure water vapor rising in ethereal plumes.
In all areas corrupted by the Abyss and demonized, the nauseating purple-black miasma dissipated as rapidly as snow meeting its nemesis, revealing the original land beneath—now even more vibrant and teeming with life than before!
The entire Natlan region seemed to have been gently touched by an invisible, compassionate hand of immense power. Every wound was swiftly smoothed, repaired, and even elevated!
-
Within the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, a deathly silence descended once more.
But this time, it was no longer the despairing silence of hopelessness, but rather a stunned paralysis brought on by overwhelming, incomprehensible joy and awe.
People watched as their companions, moments ago on the verge of death, suddenly sprang back to life with dragon-like vigor; as their comrades with severed arms numbly waved their newly regenerated hands; and even as faces they remembered as having fallen in battle now stood alive in the radiant light, their expressions equally dazed and astonished.
Mavuika felt an unprecedented surge of power coursing through her veins, even stronger than before her injuries.
She gazed around at the mythic spectacle unfolding before her, at the resurrected warriors. Even as the Pyro Archon, a being of vast experience and knowledge, she was utterly stunned. Her crimson eyes burned with incredulous elation.
Lumine and Paimon stared, mouths agape, at the reality-defying spectacle before them. Paimon even forgot to fly and landed squarely on Lumine's head, her tiny hands gripping Lumine's hair for dear life.
Even the seasoned Fatui Harbingers, who had witnessed countless extraordinary events, were completely shaken, their composure shattered. They gazed in stunned disbelief at the events unfolding before them, their very understanding of reality being violently reshaped.
The Damselette: "This power... it's extraordinary."
As she spoke, her gaze turned toward Angie's direction. Angie, sensing her gaze, met her eyes.
Tartaglia: "It's nothing short of a miracle!"
The Knave: "Such immense power... how did she achieve this?"
The Captain swiftly soared into the sky, scanning the horizon as if to confirm this wasn't a hallucination.
Before his eyes, the earth revitalized, and the fallen warriors were resurrected. The Captain's body trembled slightly, betraying his inner turmoil.