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Outside the Chief Palace, crowds of hundreds of thousands cheered and celebrated. The chanting of the priests accompanied by the poet's recitation, the beautiful sounds of the ocarina mixed with the thunderous rhythms of drums.
Inside the Chief Palace, there was solemnity and silence. The gentle breeze stirred the curtains of the deities, rows of expressionless elder guards stood resolute, adhering to their duties day in and day out for decades. They had dedicated the rest of their lives to the divine and the elders.
The elder looked at Xiulote calmly. This was a smart child; he should understand the meaning behind bringing him to watch the ceremony. This was also an unknown child, and the elder hoped he would express new insights that matched his own wishes.
In the past dozen years, he rarely changed his original plans or gave people second chances. Or rather, the leniency shown towards Xiulote was the first since his brother's death.