I fabricated myths to guide the revival of spiritual energy.

Night fell in a massive slave camp deep within the Radiant Parish.

There were no towering stakes for execution, nor any stirring trials of heresy. Several "silent monks," clad in dark gray robes with their faces completely hidden under hoods, moved like ghosts among the muddy tents.

Tieyan lurked in the shadows, having just passed out a small packet of ashes. Just as he was about to leave, in a tattered tent not far away, a thin slave who had just been touched by the short prayer the night before, unconsciously moved his lips in his sleep due to pain, murmuring the few remaining sounds of "no forgiveness."

Almost instantly, two silent monks pounced like wolves smelling blood, tightly covering the little slave's mouth. A cold, sharp blade rose in the darkness, ready to precisely sever his vocal cords and the veins of his prayer.

Tie Yan's eyes were bloodshot. He could have turned and disappeared into the night, but he knew that with this one strike, the child would be completely ruined.

Without the slightest hesitation, Tieyan, like an enraged rock bear, suddenly pounced out of the shadows, using his broad back to shield the little slave from a fatal blow, while simultaneously kicking over the charcoal brazier, creating a brief moment of chaos.

"Run! Don't make a sound!"

Taking advantage of the chaos, the little slave slipped into the mud and escaped, but Tieyan was trapped in a desperate situation. More silent monks emerged without a sound, and the binding spell pressed down on him like a boulder, pinning him firmly in the mud.

There were no questions, no prayers, not even the slightest unnecessary movement. The cold, sharp knife mercilessly sliced ​​across Tieyan's neck. Blood gushed out, and his vocal cords, along with the prayer veins in his throat, were completely ripped apart. He could only let out a chilling, gurgling sound before being shoved like a dead dog into a sealed carriage covered with soundproof black cloth.

……

The carriage traveled downhill and entered the "Silent Holy Prison," buried deep underground in the heart of the parish.

As he was being escorted to the lower level, Tieyan's vision, blurred by blood loss, swept over the four walls made of heavy obsidian. The walls were densely covered with "Silent Holy Runes" that emitted a faint white light.

This is a high-level array specifically designed to sever the channels of faith. It can suppress all sound, and the invisible spiritual venom it emits will completely coat the prisoner's brain, shattering any thoughts that attempt to piece together a complete prayer.

"Hurry up," a silent guard whispered to his companion. "Don't make any noise, lest you wake up that monster at the very bottom who never prays."

Tieyan was roughly dragged along, passing the special cell at the end of the corridor, sealed off by heavy steel bars. In the darkness, he vaguely saw a pair of indifferent yet sharp eyes. There was no reverence for the gods in those eyes, only an unfathomable stillness.

boom!

Tie Yan was thrown into a cell housing dozens of prisoners, and the heavy iron door slammed shut. Inside, the prisoners, whose throats had also been slit and whose eyes were now completely empty and numb, huddled in a corner like sludge, not even glancing at him.

Unable to utter a sound, and unable to form coherent prayers in their minds, they are trapped in this abyss where the gods have completely gouged out their eyes and ears, slowly losing the ability to pray over the long years, and eventually withering away.

Tieyan clutched his bleeding throat, a deep sense of despair welling up inside him.

How can one have faith without a throat?

……

Border wasteland.

Inside the Dark Gold Temple, Eve knelt before the stone wall inscribed with dark gold prayers. Her face remained pale, but her gaze was more solemn than ever before.

Just now, through the Dao Lord's divine runes, she clearly sensed that several ember nodes in the heart of the Radiant Light suddenly went out without warning. It wasn't the kind of devastating explosion that comes from being burned, but rather as if someone had silently smothered them in darkness with a thick, airtight black cloth.

Eve closed her eyes and followed the broken threads of faith to perceive the last scene of Tieyan and the others being arrested.

She "saw" the silent blade, felt the suffocating pain of her throat being cut open, and the despair of her thoughts being forcibly shattered by mental mucus.

Eve's hands trembled slightly. If it cannot be spoken aloud, if it cannot be recited silently in the heart, how can the short prayer be spread?

She lingered in the suppressed memory of the near-death spasm that emanated from her severed veins. She sensed that a believer whose throat had been slit, before losing consciousness completely, did not try to piece together the broken syllables, but instead painfully clutched his exposed neck with both hands, his body curled up, pressing down hard on his still-beating heart.

Eve's heart skipped a beat, and she abruptly opened her eyes.

Yes! The Old Gods need to hear the praises and standard syllables of their followers to confirm their allegiance. But the Dark Gold Network doesn't need that!

After its voice was taken away, the will to live that refused to die did not disappear; it was simply forced to shift from the tip of the tongue to the body's instincts!

Eve slowly raised her right hand, her fingers taut, pressing it tightly against her throat. There, her voice had been taken from her by the Old Gods; there, was the vital spot where death could strike at any moment.

Immediately afterwards, she raised her left hand, clenched it into a fist, and pressed it heavily against her left chest, right above her heart. There, her indomitable heart beat, holding onto the last vestige of her will to live.

Right hand grips the throat, left fist pressed against the heart.

He sought no forgiveness, offered no voice, and kept the last chance for survival firmly hidden in his heart.

Eve took a deep breath, and the divine runes on the back of her hand emitted a faint, cold light. She transformed this minimalist "gesture," extracted from blood and despair, into a primal thought, forcefully projecting it into the sealed abyss along the faint, underlying veins.

……

Deep within the silent holy prison.

Tieyan had been lying on the cold stone slab in despair for a long time. The suppression of the Silent Holy Rune made him feel that his soul was slowly decaying in this deathly silence.

Just when he was about to give up the struggle, a chilling, bone-deep tremor came from the deepest part of his soul, from the foundation of his faith.

It was neither a sound nor a piece of text, but an extremely clear and imposing image.

Tie Yan suddenly opened his bloodshot eyes. He understood!

He struggled to his feet, dragging his weak body against the cold obsidian wall. He stood stiffly in the dim fluorescent light, his eyes fixed on the numb-eyed old slave in the opposite corner.

Then, Tie Yan slowly raised his right hand and firmly pressed it against his own hideous scarred throat; his left hand clenched into a fist and pressed heavily against his heart.

Right hand grips the throat, left fist pressed against the heart.

The old slave stared blankly at Tie Yan. In this cage where even thoughts were shattered, this silent action was like a heavy hammer, slamming down on his last remaining instinct for survival.

This is the most primal struggle of a person after being stripped of everything. It does not contain the name of the God of the Radiant Diocese, nor any orthodox doctrine, and it is not even a complete set of prayer rituals, so the silent holy symbols covering the walls cannot identify it as "prayer" and intercept it.

After a deathly silence and struggle lasting half an hour.

The old slave trembled as he raised his right hand and, imitating Tieyan, pressed it against his leaky throat; his left hand clenched into a fist and pressed it tightly against his chest.

Om-!

There was no sound, no prayer. But at the very moment the action was completed, a wisp of extremely fine dark gold spiritual energy bypassed the heavy blockade of the Radiant Law and quietly emerged from the depths of the old slave's silent soul.

Like a drop of ink falling into clear water, this silent action began to spread throughout the cell. Three or five, a dozen or so... those prisoners whose vocal cords had been cut silently raised their hands in the darkness, assuming the same gesture of resisting the Old God.

……

Inside the monitoring hub at the top of the Holy Prison.

The Silent Elder sat upright in the center of the platinum-gold magic circle, meditating with his eyes closed. Suddenly, on the monitoring array in front of him, the crystal representing the prison area where Tieyan was located lit up with an extremely faint heretical red light.

The senior monk abruptly opened his eyes. He coldly pressed the various check commands on the array plate.

"Audio recording: empty".

"Prayer context: empty".

"Standard prayer ritual identification: empty".

The elder monk's eyes instantly turned incredibly sinister and terrifying. None of the traditional theological practices were triggered, and the suppression of the Silent Holy Rune was still functioning perfectly, but that damned heretical contamination had undeniably increased slightly within that cell!

"It's not a prayer, not a sound, not a traditional ritual..." The silent elder monk stared intently at the array plate, gritting his teeth as he concluded, "These heretics... they're communicating using some kind of unregistered will!"

Their wall of silence, which they were so proud of, was silently chipped open by someone.

"Seal off Ward 7, Section T." The senior monk stood up, a cold glint in his grey eyes. "Isolate all the prisoners in that ward in solitary confinement, preparing for the 'posture removal' experiment. If they try to communicate with any gestures, cut off their hands. Let's see how they pray then!"

……

The deepest part of the Silent Holy Prison.

This is a darkness where even bioluminescent moss cannot survive.

Although the commotion in Tieyan's prison area was extremely faint, it attracted the attention of the most unique being in this abyss.

The prisoner, condemned as a "faithless one" by the Supreme Tribunal of the Radiant Light, sat silently in the darkness. Because he never prayed to any god, the Silent Mark had no effect on him. He clearly sensed the will to survive erupting from the silence of the dozen or so prisoners above him.

The unbeliever's chapped lips twitched slightly, revealing for the first time in the darkness an extremely rare, mocking smile.