"And you, Cyril... oh, I should call you Holy Throne Ete I now, right? Congratulations on your coronation! Do you like this 'congratulatory gift'? Is it more memorable than the bells you were expecting? You wanted to use the bells to announce a new era? Excellent. We'll deliver some... 'fresh air' fitting for this new era! HAHAHAHAHA!"
Manic, malicious laughter echoed from within the rift as streams of green Qi gushed out, swiftly converging and spinning into visible, eerie vortexes of dark green wind.
On the altar, Pope Ete I's expression was ice-cold, but the knuckles of the hand gripping his Scepter had turned white.
