Xyrin Empire

As the stars of today's special celebration ceremony, the newborns were placed in two small golden beds, carried onto the ceremony platform by priests. Though these were called small beds, they were only small relative to the height of the Atlantians. To me, those shining little cots were already about the size of Pandora's single bed.

The two newborns had just been placed on the rectangular platform for the baptism, and before the High Priest could even step forward, Lilina was the first to rush over. This little one, who suddenly became a bit overexcited, hurried to the side of the babies' crib, peeked in, then very abruptly exclaimed in surprise, and with a face full of grievance, ran back.

"What happened?"

I looked at Lilina in astonishment. Just now she was so eager to hold the baby, and now after just one glance, she's showing such a defeated look?

Lilina tilted her head at a forty-five-degree angle, tears pooling in her eyes, and muttered in frustration, "Damn, they're bigger than me at birth, how am I supposed to hold them..."

Everyone was at a loss for words upon hearing this.

Only Sandora remained calm, analyzing, "It's because they grow very quickly. According to the database, newborn Atlantians must learn to walk independently and adapt to the natural environment within a few days. They practically grow as soon as they're exposed to air after birth..."

While Sandora continued her explanation, I noticed two little ones next to me also showed strange expressions.

Pandora and Visca involuntarily clenched their small fists, their eyes staring blankly at the sky at a forty-five-degree angle, as if their lives had lost purpose. It seems accepting babies who are bigger than themselves at birth is indeed quite challenging for these little ones. Lilina's exceptional pioneering should be appreciated; I'm grateful it wasn't Pandora or these height-resenting little madmen who rushed over.

Lilina also noticed the gloomy expressions of the two 1.2-meter generals and hastily offered comfort, "Don't be upset, I saw them just now, those little ones are just about bigger than me; they seem even shorter than you..."

I glanced at Lilina's height, hmm, 1.09 meters, not even 1.1. What she said was surprisingly convincing, but this little girl was indeed tragic. After decades of life, only reaching 1.09 meters, no wonder she had a common language with the Pandora sisters.

Visca seemed greatly encouraged by this and, with eyes shining, ran over. I watched from behind, tears welling up in my eyes: this poor little thing has been reduced to finding height superiority over infants?

But before my teary moment could end, Visca came running back with a tearful face, clutching my leg and rubbing it fiercely. While rubbing, she sobbed out, "Boohoo, only taller by a fingertip, and it's a horizontally placed pinky at that..."

Me: "..."

Lilina, at this moment, unwittingly added a double whammy: "Oh, considering the growth speed I sensed from these two children earlier, they would surpass you in forty-eight hours..."

This little girl who just had to bring up the worst-case scenario, deservedly got pinned to the ground and beaten up mercilessly by Pandora and Visca together!

The interruption from the three little girls threw the priest officiating the ceremony into a state of awkwardness. This giant in a black robe with a silver mask looked over innocently for a moment until Sandora realized it and signaled them to continue with the baptism. The priests finally breathed a sigh of relief, and at this point, the baptism of the newborns officially began.

First was the bath in the holy water—which was the kind of high-concentration radiation water that could turn half of Washington into a real-life experience of Fallout 3 within twenty minutes. Several assistant priests placed a massive egg-shaped basin in the center of the baptism platform. I noticed the basin seemed to have been modified from a kind of life support chamber, with all sorts of interface and mechanical structures on the surface. After asking, I learned that the Atlantians had kept these early life support chambers from the Old Empire's expedition team, used initially to create the first generation of transformed people, and regarded them as some sort of holy artifacts with mysterious powers. They believed these chambers bestowed new life upon the first Atlantis Artificial Gods in the ancient era and thus held the ability to transform the newborns anew.

The basin was filled with radiation water emitting a faint blue light. Two priests lifted the newborns (by the way, they are a brother and sister) from their luxurious little beds, recited a few lines of prayer quickly in the air, and then placed the two children into the basin.

At that moment, I also got a good look at these remarkably unusual new lives: indeed bigger than Lilina.

Apart from their extraordinary size, they seemed quite like ordinary children in other aspects, including chubby limbs and wrinkly little faces. However, these two bare new infants exhibited an unusual calmness unmatching their infant status. They weren't crying or fussing, and though only seventy-two hours old, they opened their exceptionally alert eyes, glancing around with vigilance and challenge. When being held by the priests, both children made the same astonishing move—bending their arms to shield half of their faces, safeguarding their heads, yet without hindering their observation of the surrounding environment.

This is the awakening of a deep-seated combat instinct within their genes.

Are these little terrors really infants? Does childhood end with the third sunrise of life for Atlantians?!

I strongly complained, even though I knew of even more brutal "accelerations," like those Xyrin Apostles mass-produced right off the production lines who could swing cannons and smash gatherings. But after all, one is a mass-produced Xyrin Apostle, and the other is a normal carbon-based life born naturally. Such exaggerated growth in the latter is indeed too noteworthy.

After the newborns were immersed in the holy water, the presiding priest began to recite the blessing prayer immediately. The prayer wasn't long and seemed to have much room for improvisation, as I noticed many parts that matched today's context. The priest first welcomed the two newborns to this world, announcing they were the first pair of babies born in Atlantis after the start of a new era, a fact of great significance. Following that, the priest declared that under the witness and blessing of the "Great God" and the three leaders, the newborns would grow strong, becoming the finest warriors in the shortest time. Essentially, it was a practical record of birth status and future life planning rather than a prayer. It took less than a minute to finish the prayer, which I had presumed might take half an hour. Then the presiding priest paused with the scepter in his hand and suddenly shouted three words in a high-pitched and strange voice: "Haragon!"

I immediately noticed a subtle change in atmosphere among the few Atlantis priests participating in the ceremony, even Ares beside me suddenly became serious. Well, though I could only see his chin, I assumed it must have been a particularly serious chin...

"Haragon!" Following the lead priest's words, two assistant priests stepped forward from the rear of the procession, loudly repeating those incomprehensible words while each carrying a large rectangular box. The boxes were made of metal with twisted patterns on top. Unknown contents filled them, but they kept trembling slightly in the assistants' hands as if something alive was inside.

Lilina stretched her neck out in curiosity, watching the two big boxes. I thought if it weren't for Big Sister holding her back, she would have run over to taste it by now. Even the Mercury Lamp became restless, twisting and muttering on my shoulder, "How could the birth of a child be handled with such seriousness, tsk..."

Feeling inspired, I shrugged my shoulders, and the little doll immediately clung tightly to my head, "Hey! What are you doing! I could fall!"

"Maybe we should arrange a welcome ceremony like this for you too?" I said with a chuckle, "Considering the standards of the Imperial Princess, we ought to prepare over twenty thousand tables of Manhan Banquet for your birthday, and then go through this procedure as well?"

The Mercury Lamp understood I was joking but still looked dreamily and then began nibbling on my head.

At this moment, the two assistant priests had already placed the big box beside the basin holding the holy water and the newborns. The holy water was only about ten centimeters deep, and the two robust "infants" (I'm really embarrassed to call them infants, they're bigger than Lilina!) sat up straight in the water, curiously poking their small heads out of the basin. Upon seeing the box set before them, they simultaneously showed a look of alertness.

"What's in there..." Lilina seemed to sense something, covering her mouth and exclaiming softly.

The box was suddenly opened, and after two to three seconds of silence, two agile black shadows shot out!

Before I could react, the two shadows had already fallen into the basin, followed immediately by a low hiss and the splashes of water in a violent fight.

"Haragon is a type of poisonous python," Ares explained in a low voice while bending over, "This python only lives on Mount Olympus. We see it as the spirit of the Holy Mountain and as the instructor testing newborns..."

"Gosh! You're really playing with life here!" Even Lilina couldn't help but shout this time. I reacted faster than her, ready to rush forward, but Sandora grabbed my arm and pointed at the basin, which had already quieted down within a few seconds.

Yes, it quieted down. The hissing and fighting lasted only a few seconds, so quickly that I thought those two three-day-old infants had been killed instantly. But the newborns' parents kept smiling while watching the basin, seemingly unaware. When the fight ended, they glanced at each other, approached the basin, and retrieved the Haragon pythons, now torn into several pieces.

"Healthy children! Glory to the Gods!"

The priest presiding over the ceremony held high two snake heads that had almost turned to fluff. His resonant voice emerged from beneath a silver-white mask, and the snake blood still flowing splashed onto the black ritual robe and his mask. Other priests also raised their hands, loudly repeating in a strange, rhythmic tone that first dipped and then rose: "Healthy children! Glory to the Gods!"

Cheers spread from the priest troupe, and soon, other Atlantians present or watching raised their arms in celebration as well. The scene resembled a bizarre, bloody totem ceremony from ancient times. I and several others stood in stunned silence. Mercury Lamp involuntarily shrank his neck, then lightly tugged my hair, saying, "Stupid human, you're not really planning to prepare this for me too, are you..."

I glanced sideways at the little figure trembling slightly on my shoulder and felt the need to tease this usually boastful fellow: "I'll prepare something mightier for you—misbehave, and I'll toss you into the Nile River... Hey! Stop biting my ear!"

Mercury Lamp chewed at my head in frenzy, making both of us the discordant note at the entire ceremony scene, prompting Big Sister to elbow me from behind, whispering, "Act your age, alright, alright, don't be a disgrace."

Now it seemed that the Atlantian ceremony was about to end. Although brief, the previous process was laden with meanings of blessing, baptism, and trial. Many onlookers, especially those demons, understood the brutal civilization of Atlantis through their stunned expressions, particularly the final step—they used deadly snakes to test whether the child was healthy or aggressive, elements imprinted in their genes, like newborns instinctively avoiding flames, knowing how to destroy enemies and protect themselves from birth.

So what happens to those lacking this ability?

"Die on the baptism platform, and the holy water basin serves as a coffin for such failures," Ares candidly replied to my query, "Not knowing how to fight or kill is seen as a genetic flaw among Atlantians, indicating that the Gods' bestowed genetic traits have undergone failed mutations in those specimens. However, this hardly happens, with only three infants historically showing recessive combat genes, unable to leave the baptism platform. Enemies infect our weaknesses; infants failing baptism tend to become easily controlled by the Abyss as foes—it's for their own good."

"Don't do this anymore," I took a deep breath and felt the need to voice from my standpoint, "I know in those days, such customs were quite normal; without survival of the fittest, you'd face extinction. But now, with the Empire backing you, these bloody baptisms should be avoided."

Ares paused for a moment, thinking deeply. I thought he might insist on his opinion, yet ultimately, this giant nodded his head, responding in a muffled voice, "Then we'll change our customs."

It seems I underestimated the influence of the "God's" words on these Atlantians— their customs are founded on divine intentions, so when those intentions change, they readily adapt their customs—this whole race is a bunch of fanatics!

Sandora's gaze remained on those priests as the two infants were now rinsed clean, placed back in their little beds. The young parents were accompanying them while other priests cleaned the bloodstains off the basin with spices and new holy water. After watching for a while, Sandora suddenly spoke, "Children with recessive combat genes indeed have the right to live, but keeping this baptism ceremony helps ensure the next generation won't forget how to fight."

After saying this, she smiled at me again, "The affairs of the Mobra Civilization make me somewhat sensitive, but for a race born to fight, overprotection isn't a wise idea."

I looked into Sandora's eyes and immediately understood her point, nodding in agreement: "Makes sense—and this baptism method counts as an intangible cultural heritage, right? Should we form a endeavor, uh, a cultural department to organize these relics? We have so many worlds under our name, quite a lot of peculiar customs."

Sandora rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore me, while Lilina kindly explained in a low voice: "Boss, the cultural department doesn't handle such matters, ha."

The newborn baptism had ended, and apart from watching, we hadn't taken part in anything. Yet I still felt satisfied, having witnessed the novel customs of an alien race. Lilina, on the other hand, felt differently, often feeling uneasy when she hadn't participated in an event. She still remembered her boastful words before departure, expressing her intention to bless the newborns personally with the Goddess' blessing. Though it seemed they hadn't anticipated this, she couldn't let go of the notion, so as the two newborns were about to be taken down, she suddenly sprang into action.

Calling Dingdang, who's enthusiastically trying to rescue her master's hair from Mercury Lamp, to join her, she announced her intention to perform a "Merciful Blessing filled with Divine Grace" for the children.

The Atlantis priests seemed awkward at Lilina's request. They respected the little girl who was only a third of their height because she was a friend of the "Great God," yet dared not readily agree with her request because the Atlantis doctrine forbade acceptance of other gods, even if that god usually dwelt in the Great God's pocket. Also, crucially, the Great God was right there watching. Letting a newborn receive a foreign god's blessing was somewhat difficult to justify.

"Let her be, or else she'll bother me all day."

I noticed even Zeus glanced down with a troubled expression, shrugging at them.

Lilina cheered, leading her household deity to bestow the blessing.

Today might be a day of religious revival—I did nothing but watched people performing the divine role!

"Wow, no matter how many times I look, this kid's indeed a good size," Lilina, with Dingdang perched on her head, leaned against the "infant bed," big enough to serve her a single bed, looking inside. Dingdang also took a peek, agreeing with a nod: "Dingdang sees everyone as quite sizable..."

Everyone: "..." (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, feel free to visit Qidian (qidian.com) to cast recommendations and monthly votes—your support is my greatest motivation.)