CHAPTER 424: THE GODS WHO DESPISED HER

"Father, I don’t think there’s any urgency for us to go to the temple right now," Primrose said once they were inside the carriage.

Lazarus sat beside her, while Edmund sat across from them. Since they were using the Duke of Illvaris’s carriage, it was much smaller than the one they usually used back in Noctvaris.

Because of that, Edmund had to keep his head lowered the entire way, or else he would keep bumping it against the carriage ceiling.

Primrose felt bad for her husband, but if they wanted to visit the temple, it was better to use a carriage that the priests would recognize.

"Silly child, what do you mean by that?!" Lazarus looked at her with reddened eyes. "You haven’t visited the temple in months! Of course, you have to go now, otherwise, you might be cursed with bad luck!"

If only her father knew that she had already died once in her past life, he’d probably think it was because she didn’t go to the temple often enough.

Honestly, she never understood what was so special about it. She had never felt like the temple had truly helped her.

Every time Primrose wished for something in the temple, for some reason, she always got the opposite.

When she was seven, she had an old dog named Bardi. He had been with her father even before she was born.

So she prayed to the gods, asking them to make Bardi live longer. But the next morning, she found her beloved dog lying lifeless in the backyard.

Sure, it sounded like a coincidence because Bardi was already very old, but it still left a bad feeling in her chest.

Then, another time, she prayed again, hoping her father would buy her lots of jewelry. But instead of that, one of his distilleries caught fire, and he lost a huge amount of money. It took him almost a year to recover from it.

It kept happening again and again, and since then, Primrose wasn’t sure whether the gods were blessing her or just making fun of her.

She actually felt much more comfortable inside the Moon Goddess Temple than in any other temple across the Vellmoria Empire.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but she often felt like the gods of Vellmoria hated her, like they were watching her with cold eyes every time she stepped inside their sacred halls, making her feel completely out of place.

She thought that maybe this time would be different, that maybe she wouldn’t feel that strange heaviness again.

But the moment she stepped into the temple, she instantly felt the cold, distant gaze of the god who ruled over this place, as if watching her every move with silent disapproval.

"You’re probably not familiar with this temple," Lazarus said, turning to Edmund. "This is the temple of the God of Fortune, one of the most respected deities in the Vellmoria Empire. People believe that those who earn his favor will live a life full of wealth and blessings."

He smiled proudly as he looked around the grand hall, where golden ornaments and offerings shimmered softly under the candlelight.

"I’ve been praying here since I was young, and look how well life has treated me," he said. "That’s why I wanted to bring you both here to receive the god’s blessing."

Primrose held Edmund’s hand and let her father walk ahead toward the altar.

Unlike the statue of the Moon Goddess in Noctvaris, the statue of the God of Fortune—Seradiel—had no head, just like any other God’s statue in the Vellmoria Empire.

She never really understood why, but Lazarus once told her it had something to do with the fifteen gods who had died long ago.

Their followers had gone mad, burning every temple to the ground and smashing all the statues, so that future generations could no longer worship them.

From that time onward, there were rumors saying that those people had been controlled by a witch, someone who used dark magic to influence them through the gods’ eyes.

That was why, when new deities began to appear, their statues were made without heads, to prevent dark witches from controlling believers through their gods’ gaze.

At first, Primrose believed that story, but after meeting a dark witch—Raven—she started to question whether someone could truly be that powerful, strong enough to control thousands, or even millions, of people in such a short time.

Raven could barely protect herself, let alone kill gods. Still, since she was considered young for a dark witch, maybe she wasn’t the best example.

"Edmund," Primrose whispered, tugging at her husband’s sleeve and asking him to lean down so she could speak near his ear. "You don’t have to pray in this temple."

Edmund raised a brow, curious. "Why not? I took you to the Moon Goddess’ temple, didn’t I?"

"It’s just that... the gods here aren’t very friendly," Primrose said softly. "So... I don’t want them to mess with our marriage."

She added, "I know it sounds strange, but please, just trust me."

She said it with such a serious look in her eyes that Edmund couldn’t bring himself to argue. In the end, all he could do was nod.

"Alright," he said gently. "I’ll listen to you."

Lazarus, who was already standing in front of the altar, turned around and waved at them. "Come here, both of you! Don’t just stand there!"

Primrose tightened her grip on Edmund’s hand, her smile polite but a little forced. Together, they walked forward until they were standing behind Lazarus. The scent of incense filled the air, thick and sweet, almost suffocating.

"God Seradiel," Lazarus began, bowing his head deeply. "Thank you for your endless blessings. My business is thriving, my daughter has returned home safely, and she now has a husband who seems perfect in every way."

"I offer this prayer," Lazarus continued, "so that your divine favor may also fall upon them, so their marriage will bring fortune and prosperity to both families."

While her father continued praying, Primrose glanced up at the headless statue.

The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the faceless figure, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw it move slightly.

She held her breath, and immediately looked away, her heart pounding.

A strange uneasiness crept into her heart and mind, making her feel as though she could hear whispers all around her, even though no one else was there besides them.

The priests had only opened the temple doors for them but hadn’t stayed in the hallway, so Primrose was sure that the voice she heard in her head wasn’t theirs.

[How dare you show your face again in this sacred temple!]

Primrose flinched as a deep, echoing voice thundered inside her mind. The sound reverberated, layered like several voices speaking at once.

She slowly lifted her head again to look at the headless statue before her, and whether it was her imagination or not, she could swear the shadow behind it had eyes, eyes that glowed faintly in the dark.

[You filthy creature! You dare to taint my temple with your presence! And now you’ve brought that impure man with you, along with the filthy seed growing inside your womb!]

Primrose instinctively clutched her stomach. The air around her grew heavy, as if something unseen was pressing down on her chest.

All the candles inside the temple suddenly went out, making Lazarus jump in surprise. He hurried to relight them, but every time he tried, the flames were immediately snuffed out.

"The wind must’ve blown them out again," Lazarus sighed. "I should’ve asked the priests to close the doors properly."

On the other side of the hall, Primrose heard the voice again inside her head. It was louder this time, as if the unseen being wanted to crush her soul and bury her alive beneath the snow right then and there.

[You should’ve never returned! You don’t belong among the blessed!]

Her fingers trembled as she gripped Edmund’s sleeve tightly. The temperature inside the temple began to drop, her breath turning into mist.

Even Edmund, who was usually calm, noticed the sudden chill and glanced around in confusion.

"Father..." Primrose managed at last. "I feel unwell. I’ll wait for you outside."

The voice inside her head roared again, harsher this time. [Leave my sacred place now, before I burn your child like you did to us back then!]

Lazarus hadn’t even had the chance to say a word before Primrose rushed out of the temple with Edmund.

Her breathing was uneven, and her head throbbed so badly it felt like it might split open at any moment.

Edmund’s expression darkened the instant he saw her pale face. He didn’t waste time asking questions, and he simply scooped her into his arms and carried her straight to their carriage.

"What’s wrong?" he asked softly, his voice filled with worry.

Primrose tried to speak, but no words came out. Her throat felt tight, her mind still echoing with that hateful voice. All she could do was clutch his shirt and shake her head. "I don’t want to go back inside."

Edmund gently lifted her chin to see her face, but his eyes widened in shock when he saw blood dripping from her nose. "Primrose, you’re bleeding!" he exclaimed.