Chapter 325: Chapter 69: Morning Star Bell

But it had rung!

It wasn’t a loud, clear chime, just a faint, low hum!

The three Cardinals’ eyes flew open in unison, and they exchanged a look of shock.

Saint Cyril’s knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the Scepter.

Rosalyn opened her eyes. Her gaze remained as ethereal as ever, as if the faint sound had nothing to do with her.

She withdrew her hand and silently stepped back.

The atmosphere in the great hall changed in an instant.

A tide of low gasps and whispers rose from the crowd.

The fifth, Amilia, and the sixth, Matilda, stepped forward, but the Ancient Bell gave no further response.

As Matilda stepped back, tears were already glistening in her jade-green eyes.

Finally, it was Elizabeth’s turn.

She could feel everyone’s gaze fixed upon her—some scrutinizing, some expectant, some dismissive.

Her heart hammered against her ribs like a war drum, and her palms were cold and damp.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.

Images flashed through her mind: the sunlight and bonfires in the Oak Forest of Monte Castle, the tear-filled eyes of the commoners in the Lower District of Blackstone Fortress, Murphy’s words—"This path may not be as easy as you think"—and the oath she had sworn before him that day.

’I need power.’

’Not to break free from my shackles, but to hold on to what I want to protect.’

She took a step forward. The hem of her white dress brushed against the polished floor as she approached the silent Ancient Bell.

Up close, the body of the bell looked even more ancient and desolate, its age almost palpable.

It stood there quietly, as if it had been waiting for countless centuries.

Elizabeth raised her hand, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Her slender, pale fingers made direct contact with the rough, verdigris-coated surface of the bell.

The touch was ice-cold, a chill that pierced straight to her heart.

She closed her eyes, pushing aside all distracting thoughts, doing her best to suppress all her nervousness, anticipation, and even that sliver of fear.

She silently recalled the words she had spoken during her inquiry.

’Faith and action are two sides of the same coin.’

She remembered the grateful gazes, the flash of a sword illuminating the darkness, the reason she was standing here now.

’Not for the glory of a Princess, not to escape a predetermined fate, but to... become a light that can illuminate others, a light that can truly change things.’

’Just as he once did.’

The thought became clear and resolute.

She poured this conviction, holding nothing back, through her fingertips, as if channeling it into the slumbering Ancient Bell.

One second, two seconds, ten seconds...

Time slipped by. The great hall was frighteningly silent.

Elizabeth’s heart sank bit by bit.

’So... it’s not going to work, is it?’

’In the end, the Holy Artifact hasn’t acknowledged me...’

Just as she was about to give up and pull her hand away...

DONG!

A deep, resonant toll, without any warning, exploded through the air!

The sound wave, like a physical shockwave, instantly swept through the entire Chenxi Hall!

The stained-glass windows trembled violently, letting out a low hum!

Dust rained down from the dome overhead!

The three Cardinals shot up from their seats, their faces etched with utter disbelief!

The rolling echoes of the bell reverberated off every stone pillar and filled every inch of the hall, overlapping and refusing to fade, as if trying to awaken the thousand-year-old memories of the slumbering Holy City!

The sudden, immense toll made Elizabeth’s entire body shudder. She snapped her eyes open and stared in disbelief at the Ancient Bell, which was still vibrating faintly beneath her hand.

The bell rang!

So loudly!

So clearly!

So unbelievably!

’I succeeded?’

Ecstasy crashed over her like a tsunami, nearly making her lose her footing.

But in the next instant, an even greater, indescribable sensation surged up from her fingertips and washed over her entire body!

It wasn’t a sound or an image, but a resonance as vast as a sea of stars and as ancient as time itself.

It was impossible to understand, impossible to analyze.

"Ugh..." Elizabeth let out an almost inaudible grunt. Her face instantly turned pale as paper, her dark pupils contracting as they lost their focus.

The torrent came as quickly as it went.

When the last of the echoes finally faded and a dead silence returned to the great hall, Elizabeth staggered, barely managing to catch herself on the Ancient Bell’s wooden frame to keep from falling.

She gasped for breath, her forehead beaded with cold sweat, the back of her simple white dress soaked through.

Saint Cyril was the first to react. He strode over to Elizabeth, his ancient eyes glinting with an incredibly complex light.

There was shock, scrutiny, and a hint of excitement he could not conceal.

He reached out, as if to check on Elizabeth’s condition, but his fingers froze in mid-air just before they could touch her.

"Elizabeth," he said, his voice holding a faint, almost imperceptible tremor, "the Morning Star Bell has not rung like this in over three hundred years. What did you feel?"

Elizabeth struggled to lift her head. The vacant look in her dark eyes slowly sharpened, but a lingering terror and confusion remained in their depths.

She opened her mouth, wanting to describe that momentary, ineffable vastness and antiquity, only to find that all words were pale and powerless.

In the end, she could only shake her head, her voice hoarse and faint.

"I... I don’t know."

She paused, then met Saint Cyril’s seemingly omniscient gaze and added:

"It was like... a lot of voices... a lot of... light? No, not just that... I can’t explain it. It... it just ’rang’."

Saint Cyril gave her a long, deep look.

After a long moment, he slowly withdrew his hand, straightened his aged posture, and turned to the crowd, who were still reeling in shock. His voice regained its usual magnificent and solemn tone, but now carried an unprecedented gravity: