The air in the Imperial Basilica grew heavier.
Logan stayed still beside Livia, watching their movements closely.
The crowd was silent now, no whispers, no applause, not even breathing, only the faint background noise from the civilians behind the church.
The pope lifted his staff once again.
"Witness now, the light of the faithful," he said, his voice resonating through the massive hall. "The Blessing of the Seven."
The words sent a ripple through the audience. Some people clasped their hands together, while others stared with expectation in their eyes.
Logan's gaze lingered on the Seven Virtues as they stepped closer to the pedestal. One by one, they raised their hands toward its surface.
A faint glow began to seep from beneath their palms.
It started with a small ripple in the air, then grew brighter—threads of light slowly twisting together as they poured inside the pedestal.
The hairs on the back of Logan's neck rose.
