CHAPTER 1287: CHAPTER 315: WEDDING IN THE DREAM

The one officiating Annan’s wedding was none other than the Grandmother.

This was likely the first, and perhaps the last wedding in human history to be officiated by a True God.

However, the Grandmother’s wedding ceremony was entirely different from what Annan had envisioned—

The Grandmother didn’t recite any prayers, deliver blessings for the couple, nor ask ritualistic questions like "Do you accept each other?"

She simply narrated, in a calm and steady tone, the identities and achievements of the two—what they had accomplished individually, their talents, the enemies they had defeated, and the exceptional qualities they possessed.

Then, the Grandmother took out a pitch-black die.

She gently tossed it into the air, and radiant light seeped simultaneously from all six faces of the die. In an instant, the figures of Annan and Kafney vanished.

The wedding venue transformed in the blink of an eye into a splendid sea of silver-purple flowers. It was a garden cultivated by one of the Popes of the Silver Baron, blessed by the Silver Baron.

These flowers, resembling roses, had petals as pure and translucent as white light. Under sunlight, the nearly glowing, semi-transparent petals revealed faint violet-colored stems and leaves.

The pristine field of flowers, interwoven with white and purple, swayed gently under the breeze.

In the middle of the garden, a girl dressed in a black gauze dress bearing moth motifs sat quietly. Her black curls cascaded over her shoulders, her features were delicate and adorable, with a hint of baby fat on her cheeks.

Kafney’s small black leather boots had been removed and placed neatly beside her.

Her near-luminous, pale feet rested upon a platform created from white flower petals. Her legs were pressed together, with a sketching board placed upon her thighs, while the hem of her dress was rolled up to reveal her fair calves.

She raised her head and gazed directly at the sun. Her crimson pupils sparkled under the summer sunlight with the texture of polished glass.

Beside her stood Annan, a boy with shoulder-length black hair and youthful features.

Annan’s attire contrasted starkly with Kafney’s; he wore a thick, heavy robe more befitting a completely different season. The robe was adorned with intricate silver patterns, and the white fur lining around the hood protected his neck, giving Annan a soft, fluffy appearance.

Compared to the bewildered Kafney, Annan’s eyes were deep and icy, like the bottomless depths of a frozen lake. Although he looked as young as seven or eight years old, he emanated a chilling aura.

Behind him stood a gaunt, skeletal old man. The elder’s cheeks were sunken, eyes hollow and deep-set, hair sparse, and he wore a slim-fitting pure black outfit resembling mourning robes, with his hands clasped behind him.

He seemed almost like Annan’s shadow.

A maid stood at a distance, hesitatingly reaching out as if she wanted to say something, but ultimately staying silent. All it took was a brief, cold glance from the elder behind Annan to stop her in her tracks, leaving her as still as ice.

"Are you looking at the sun," Annan said in a voice cold and indifferent, "or... at Mr. Radiance?"

"Mr. Radiance,"

Kafney answered obediently.

She turned her head to meet Annan’s gaze.

The moment she saw Annan, her pupils quivered slightly.

The black-haired girl shrank back nervously, pulling her legs into a kneeling position and tucking them beneath her dress, as if recoiling from the cold.

"Biting wind, the chill of Winter, ice-cold lake water... Cold yet never frozen solid..."

Kafney murmured softly, "And beneath the murky lake lies the light..."

At these words, Annan, who had been gazing down at her with a godlike aloofness, suddenly furrowed his brows.

"...Light?"

"I can see it. Such a bright light."

Kafney stared resolutely into Annan’s eyes and said firmly, "Even in the darkest place, the brightest light is hidden. It’s a light gentler than Mr. Radiance’s."

Hearing this, Annan was finally moved.

He paused briefly in silence before stepping forward.

Kneeling down, Annan grasped Kafney’s hand, his index finger silently pressing against her wrist, while his other hand rested lightly against her neck as though caressing her cheek.

—In truth, it was a method to detect lies.

"What is your name?"

He asked.

"...Kafney. Kafney Noah."

Kafney replied.

Rather than being unsettled by Annan’s actions, Kafney was more astonished by how her own cold hand was the warmer one when clasped together with Annan’s.

When Annan’s fingers brushed across her neck and cheek, she couldn’t help but feel a chilling sensation akin to the touch of a frosty blade, making her instinctively tense her neck slightly.

Yet, out of sheer instinct, she lightly pressed her neck against Annan’s hand.

Despite its icy coldness... within the frozen depths, she perceived a glimmer that stirred her heart. She instinctively wished Annan would not retract his hand, but she didn’t press tightly against her neck—leaving it loose enough for Annan to withdraw his hand unfettered should he wish.

"You’re so cold... Doesn’t it bother you?"

Kafney asked softly.

This question clearly wasn’t a query about whether Annan himself felt cold, and so Annan did not reply.

His gaze instead shifted to the sketching board on Kafney’s lap.

A scene resembling blood, flame, and the setting sun—the sky and the field of flowers.

"Is this the future you see?"

Annan asked.

The way he spoke seemed less like questioning and more like affirming his own thoughts.

Kafney murmured a soft "Mm."

Annan closed his eyes lightly, seemingly lost in thought.

He lowered his head, his face coming within a fist’s distance from Kafney’s cheek.

"Stand up now, Kafney," Annan declared, "I will lead you to conquer that supposed future."

"...Am I to serve as your witness?"

"You are my friend..."

Annan replied.

And with that, the scene gradually faded.

In the place where the youthful Annan and Kafney had once stood, the versions of them as adolescents now appeared. Their movements mirrored the vision almost exactly.

Yet Kafney did not wear the black gauze dress.

Instead, she was adorned in a flowing white gown.

White gloves extended up to her elbows, accompanied by a voluminous white skirt with intricate lace-patterned stockings underneath. Her black, slightly curled hair hung long to the waist, crowned with a delicate crystal tiara.

Annan, meanwhile, wore a white ceremonial suit reminiscent of when he first met Kafney. Only now, he had added a white Frost Beast fur cape over his shoulders, with gloves on both hands.

Annan’s flowing white hair, even longer than Kafney’s, draped down his back.

He maintained the same gesture as in the vision, holding Kafney’s hand and cupping her face gently. Their posture mirrored the illusion exactly.

"...And you are more than my friend."

He said, "You are my Eternal Maiden, my undying light. You are my shadow—the light cast from within the depths of my shadow—"

As Annan spoke,

He released Kafney’s hand, wrapping one arm around her exposed bare back, lowering his head to kiss her.

The moment their lips met, Kafney’s shadow mingled and twisted with the light beneath Annan’s feet—bursting forth into a spiraling brilliance akin to a luminous, rotary night sky.

Under the astonished gazes and exclamations of the guests—

With the intensifying radiance emanating from Annan, a sudden pair of colossal wings unfurled from behind Kafney.

They were feathered wings with shadowy textures and pure white plumage exuding a softness that felt inviting. Countless feathers drifted from the skies, with each guest receiving a single feather before them.

This was Kafney’s heartfelt gesture of gratitude.

Her blood-red eyes faded completely in that moment—transforming into pure, gem-like violet eyes, as serene and infinite as the night sky.

Witnessing this, the Grandmother smiled faintly.

It was said that weddings... in their essence, were the most primordial of rituals.

A ritual for completing one’s Angel Envoy transformation—a perfection unparalleled.