Gjestaf bowed her head slightly, her hands crossed and pressing against the tip of her nose, her golden hair billowing in the wind. Shrouded in a murk of Holy Light, she stood amidst it, like an angel fallen to the mortal realm.
As she chanted her hymn, the sprawling dark clouds above gradually dispersed, and soft pillars of Holy Light pierced through the clouds to shine upon the pit stacked with the corpses of gods. The remaining light, like ripples on water, spread outward in circles, cleansing the dark earth.
Sawdust from the World Tree scattered on the ground, the bones of gods embedded in the earth, and the piles of godly corpses in the pit emitted wisps of black smoke. That black smoke melted away like ice in the light. Even the dark sands nearby gradually grew paler, shining with a jade-like luster.
