The Boy Who Walks Beyond The End-Chapter 36: Your Blessing, I Do Not Seek

The day was bright and warm, with a gentle breeze guiding the leaves through the sky as Zen and Lyra stepped beyond the gates of Eboncrest Arcanist's Academy. Lyra held a rolled-up parchment in her hand — a detailed map she had acquired from the Grand Archive. It marked the locations of the five divine shrines in the city. Each shrine was dedicated to one of the Five Gods.

Lyra smiled, pointing at the closest one on the map. "Let's head to the Shrine of the Fire God first. It's just a few turns past the central plaza."

The streets of the city buzzed with activity, but Zen's eyes remained distant, lost in thoughts heavier than words. Soon, they arrived at the shrine. Unlike ordinary temples, it was known as a Sanctum — a divine sanctum — a sacred space preserved for direct communion with a specific god.

A woman clad in flowing crimson and gold robes stood at the entrance. Her aura was calm, and her title — a Vestal — marked her as one who served in divine rites within the sanctum. She greeted them with a gentle bow.

"Welcome, young travelers," she said. "You've come to the Sanctum of the Flame?"

Lyra returned the bow respectfully. "He's here for prayer," she gestured to Zen.

The Vestal looked to Zen and nodded with kindness. "Follow me."

She led him through winding halls lit with torches that shimmered unnaturally, as if burning with divine fire. At the end of the corridor stood a tall chamber where a massive statue of the Fire God loomed over the room, carved from volcanic stone. Its blazing eyes seemed to burn into the soul.

The Vestal quietly stepped out, leaving Zen alone.

Zen stood tall, unmoving, gazing directly at the statue — not in awe, but in defiance. His fists clenched, his voice low, trembling with buried pain.

"When I screamed into the night... when the demons ripped my world apart... where were you?"

He took a few steps closer. "You call yourself a god of flame... but my world turned to ash while you watched."

He didn't kneel. He didn't pray. He turned his back to the statue and walked out in silence.

One by one, they visited the other sanctums.

The Sanctum of Freedom — wind chimes whispered softly as they walked in. The God of Freedom, carved from alabaster with wings outstretched, seemed indifferent to Zen.

The Sanctum of Nature — vines curled around the marble pillars. The Nature Goddess, serene and nurturing, gave him no comfort.

The Sanctum of Thunder — filled with hums of magic, and a looming figure of a lightning-clad god.

The Sanctum of Destruction — chaotic and still at once. The statue was broken, jagged, intentionally unfinished — the god's philosophy of entropy carved into silence.

Each time, Zen stood. Watched. And left.

He never bowed. Never whispered a prayer. His heart was heavy with judgment.

As they exited the final sanctum, Lyra stared at him with furrowed brows. "Zen... why do you look angry again? I really don't get you. You're impossible to read."

New novel chapters are published on freewёbn૦νeɭ.com.

Zen closed his eyes, breathed in, and released his emotions. "It's nothing," he said softly.

Lyra pouted. "Awhh... did you at least receive a blessing? Did any light sparkle on your head? A divine glow? A voice from the sky?"

Zen chuckled lightly, his voice as calm as still water. "I didn't ask for any. Nor did I worship."

"You WHAT?!" Lyra nearly stumbled. Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped. "You KNOW why we came here, right?! You didn't even TRY? You didn't kneel or chant or say 'oh mighty god please' or anything? Zen!"

Her shocked face, flustered and adorable, made Zen smile.

With a serene smile, he said, "You are my blessing. Why would I need more?"

Lyra froze. Her face turned as red as the fire sanctum walls. "W-What's with that? Stop teasing me!"

"I'm not teasing," Zen replied with the same calm tone.

"You... dummy!" Lyra spun around with puffed cheeks, her ears burning pink.

They returned to the academy just as the sun dipped toward the horizon.

At the Nourishment Hall, they sat across from one another. Their meals arrived — roasted honey-glazed fowl and steamed vegetables.

Lyra leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "So, oh mighty non-worshipper, do you think the God of Thunder was impressed by your angry glare?"

Zen raised an eyebrow, chewing slowly. "I think he was terrified. Clearly. That's why it didn't thunder."

Lyra giggled, hiding her smile behind her hand. "You're ridiculous."

Zen only smiled, quiet and calm.

After their meal, they both stood up.

"Good night, Zen," Lyra said, hands behind her back, swaying slightly.

"Good night, Lyra."

They each returned to their rooms. Zen removed his outer robes, took a warm bath, and stared at the rising moon from his window before heading to bed. Lyra, too, bathed, hugging a pillow as she fell asleep with a small smile on her face.

Both unaware how this quiet day would shape the storm to come.