In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities-Chapter 309 The Secret Island Part 1

It hadn't always been this way. Some force—deliberate and ancient—had crafted the island's isolation.

The island's silence wasn't simply the absence of sound. It was a barrier—immense, intentional, and unbreakable. No one could disturb that stillness without consequence.

Only one kind of people dwelled on this island: the Priests of Silence.

Except for the Radiant Holy Kingdom's highest authorities, no one even knew of their existence. They were called the Priests of Silence for a simple reason: they had sworn never to speak of the island to anyone, and to spend their entire lives within its bounds.

Their vow went beyond a mere promise. It was a binding contract etched into their very souls—made with Radiance itself.

Only those who had pledged such silence, and the Holy Sea Knights who had given their souls to Radiance, were permitted to live here.

Clad in black robes and hooded cloaks that concealed their faces, the priests patrolled the island in solemn silence. They were the island's guardians. The Holy Sea Knights, on the other hand, were its final line of defense—an elite force representing the Holy Kingdom's ultimate military strength.

Each day unfolded in strict ritual. The priests would patrol the shoreline at all hours, ensuring the island's security. When a ship approached from beyond the horizon, they would immediately gather at the altar.

No words were spoken. Their rituals were performed with hand signs and sacred flame.

The altar's flame responded to their will, awakening the island's latent power and spreading the dense fog further across the sea. The fog would block the path of any outsider, inducing hallucinations that caused sailors to retreat, confused and afraid.

The priests made their rounds throughout the island, inspecting the ancient runes carved into the rocks—magical seals that upheld the protective barrier. They performed regular reinforcement rites to keep the enchantments strong.

At the center of the island stood a vast temple.

There, at its heart, rested the true body of Radiance.

This island was where Radiance had been born—and where he now slumbered.

Agrippa, one of the twelve bishops of the Radiant Holy Kingdom and the Bishop of Silence, knelt before the eternal flame within the temple, offering prayers in solemn reverence. The flame, which had burned for centuries, was mysterious and otherworldly.

Each day, Agrippa conducted rites before this flame, fueling the island's magic and repelling foreign intrusion.

It had been nearly seventy years since Agrippa was appointed Bishop of Silence. Though bound to the island for the rest of his life, he bore no complaints.

To him, serving Radiance from such proximity was the greatest honor. Only those with unwavering faith could even be considered for the role of Silent Priest. And among them, none were more devout than Agrippa.

To the outside world, the Priests of Silence appeared to be paragons of virtue.

They rose before dawn, lived simply, wore coarse robes, spent their days in prayer, and patrolled the island in rotating shifts. Their eyes were clear, their hearts pure.

They were disciplined, humble, protective of the weak, and hostile to evil. They embodied the highest ideals of sacred devotion.

But becoming a Priest of Silence came with strict costs.

They would never again leave the island. Their identities were erased from church records. They became nameless, voiceless, eternal stewards of Radiance's secret.

And ironically, it was these purest and most honest of Radiance's servants who had been chosen to guard his darkest secret.

Therein lay a fatal contradiction.

Their faith was genuine. Their virtue, undeniable. But how sane could one remain when their entire existence was shaped by dogma, cut off from the world?

Once appointed, they were forbidden from ever returning to the outside. Isolated and steeped in ancient rites, their piety slowly twisted into obsession.

The island. The creed. The god.

To them, these were the entirety of existence.

The Priests of Silence were, in every sense of the word, fanatics—the most faithful of the faithful, utterly consumed by Radiance.

Only such blind devotion could make one fit to serve on this sacred isle.

Not long ago, a young priest named Julius, newly accepted into their ranks for his devout heart, witnessed something strange.

Far on the horizon, a ship appeared.

It was an ancient sailing vessel, creeping toward the island with deliberate calm.

Raging waves crashed against its hull, trying to drive it away, but the ship held steady—advancing with unwavering purpose.

It was clear this vessel wasn't drifting or lost. It had come with intent.

Julius could hardly believe what he was seeing.

'The island should be protected by both magic and divine power… so how…?'

But he didn't waste time questioning. As trained, he immediately acted.

The other priests gathered at the altar, performing the ritual to reinforce the island's defensive barrier. Yet, despite their efforts, the ship remained.

It didn't come any closer—but it also didn't retreat.

Julius, his face growing pale, rushed to report to the bishop.

"Bishop Agrippa, a suspicious vessel is approaching from the western coast."

Agrippa barely reacted, a trace of annoyance flickering across his serene features.

He assumed Julius, newly appointed as a Priest of Silence, was overreacting from inexperience.

"It's just a passing ship. Do you not understand? This island is under Radiance's protection."

To be chosen as a Priest of Silence was no small thing. Julius had been selected not only for his deep faith in Radiance, but also for his exceptional abilities and unblemished bloodline.

Only those who excelled among the candidates were allowed to serve on the island. Even so, surely he should understand the defenses at play.

But Julius's anxious expression didn't waver.

"No, Your Grace. The ship is clearly pointed directly toward the island. And even after the first ritual was performed, it still hasn't left its position."

That made Agrippa's expression shift.

The island's barrier had been breached?

If so, this was no minor issue.

For someone to dare disturb Radiance's rest—it didn't matter whether the intruders knew where they were or not. They had to be repelled.