Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

Translator: 549690339

As his voice fell, Hyperion no longer hesitated. Vast divine power surged from him, echoing the celestial bodies in the starry sky.

Having made his decision, he did not intend to probe any further. The sun in the sky instantly erupted with a thousandfold heat, and all intelligent creatures of Chaos could see that the sun, originally suspended overhead, began to deviate from its position, falling towards the earth, gradually accelerating.

As the original God of Sun, the mighty Titan deity, Hyperion did not need any “Sun Chariot” to drive this celestial body. Or rather, relying on external objects to harness the symbol of his godhood was in itself a sign of insufficient strength.

At the same time, the Ancient Titan Gods Theia and Crius also secretly exerted their authority. Although they did not take direct action, “Light” and “Sun” were so compatible that “Meteorology” could also amplify the sun’s power. The sun’s radiance became intensely brilliant, drawn by divine power, it hurtled straight towards Laine.

The force of this single blow, with the combined strength of the three Titans, elevated Hyperion’s power more than just a level. Even the several beings of great divine power present could not help but show a grave expression.

Although the birth of his eldest son had caused Hyperion’s divine power to fall back to the threshold of great divine power, this attack that pulled the sun could make any deity here take three steps back.

“You still have time to give up now,” Hyperion finally smiled as he looked at Laine on the Mount of the Gods:

“Once the sun sets, you will have no chance to repent.”

Raising an eyebrow, Laine had to admit that Theia and the God of Sun were indeed a natural pair. Together, they were almost approaching Divine Power Level 19. If it were not for Hyperion digging his own grave, Laine would not have dared to stay put.

Of course, not being able to withstand it did not mean he could not avoid it. The sun faintly locked onto this space, but after all, it did not have the authority over time and space. If he circumvented through history, traveling through time, Laine could easily retreat tranquil.

However, compared to avoiding it, he had a better solution.

“Nothing is absolute, Hyperion. Gods must pay a price for what they have done, the same was true for Uranus, and you are no exception.”

“The lessons of history are right before your eyes, yet you have never learned a thing.”

Shaking his head slightly, Laine calmly responded. The next moment, the flow of time around him was instantly distorted; under the power of his authority, one second stretched into more than a quarter of an hour.

This was just a basic application of the power of time. With ample time, he slowly raised his hand, and the Codex of Creation floated and turned pages in midair. In the blink of an eye, countless pages filled with Spirit Script were flipped through, finally stopping on the section that detailed the rules governing celestial bodies.

Everything has its order, and even the Divine King, if he misuses his authority, will be punished by the world, to say nothing of a God of Sun.

And with the Codex of Creation in hand, Laine could make this retribution more concrete, more severe, more efficient.

The descension of the great sun was actually not a big deal; as long as Hyperion controlled it properly and did not let it truly collide with the earth, the backlash he would need to endure was almost negligible. However, the fact that the Sun God suppressed his eldest son for hundreds of years, causing the celestial body that was supposed to rise in the east and set in the west to hang in the sky, was his greatest violation of Order.

And on this Mount of the Gods, where the current laws had just been ‘established’, the remnants of the world’s laws would amplify the power of the Codex of Creation, subjecting those who strayed from order to compounded punishment.

“The revolution of the sun and moon follows its statutes; according to the ‘Codex,’ each should follow its path.”

As he spoke, Laine’s divine power flowed into the book in his hand, absorbed by this object that was close to a Genesis Artifact. The next moment, a sound of chains clinking echoed through the void, and the sun that was hurtling towards Laine slowed down abruptly, losing the momentum it initially had.

Hyperion, as a God of Sun, also noticed that the more the sun deviated from its original trajectory, the stronger a force seemed to resist its movement.

Although the great sun was still approaching Laine, the might of this strike had already been greatly diminished.

“Hmph, just a little trick,” Hyperion scoffed.

Snorting coldly, Hyperion glanced at the Mother of Light beside him. Seeing this, Theia understood and agreed, and the two of them began to mobilize their divine power together, accelerating the descent of the sun once again.

If Laine had been an equally strong deity, or held a complete Genesis Artifact in his hand, Hyperion would have definitely turned tail and fled. But now, even if it meant using almost half of his strength to counter the Chains of Law, he still had ample confidence.

However, he had yet to realize the gravity of the situation until this moment.

“Violators are guilty. Those who are guilty shall be punished.”

Accompanied by Laine’s second proclamation, Hyperion at first didn’t take it seriously, but then his expression suddenly changed.

He had been prepared to once again resist the power of order, but just now, he was horrified to discover that his control over the Sun was waning.

Apart from Chaos, no one could shake a god’s divine authority. Hyperion thought he might be hallucinating, but then he quickly realized the problem.

“Is it Helios? What have you done to him?”

Crying out in alarm, Hyperion understood; it wasn’t Chaos who was diminishing his divine authority, but that the Sun itself had inherent issues.

Since Helios’s birth, the Sun had two masters—one symbolizing its existence, the other its operation. But due to the oppression of his eldest son, the Sun had never truly orbited since the day it was born.

Without a doubt, this was a violation of the existing order. But under normal circumstances, being the original Sun God, a few hundred years wasn’t enough time for Hyperion to pay the price for this. However, under the influence of the Codex of Creation, the feedback of order had been amplified.

Hyperion’s control over the Sun began shifting towards his child. Although this transfer was reversible, he was forced to stop the descent of the Sun.

He could continue the attack, so long as he had enough trust in Helios. But obviously, there was no such trust between the God of Sun and his son.

Although Helios had always been obedient to him, Hyperion knew all too well not to trust that, from his own experience.

For the Sun God, who had personally staged ‘fatherly love and filial piety,’ a daughter might be okay since there was no conflict in divine roles. But for his son Helios, he had long been on guard.

“Good, very good, Themis, is this your justice?”

Knowing he could only return today without accomplishing anything, Hyperion cast an angry glance at his sister.

Since the Oracle Stone Tablet was remade, it was entirely different from the original. Even the Ancient Gods on Mount of the Gods, who had seen the Tablet before, did not recognize that the Codex of Creation was that same stone tablet.

“This was always meant for Prince Laine; I merely returned it to its rightful owner,” Themis explained, frowning slightly.

‘Would he kindly lend you the divine artifact, considering his and our fellow Titans’ relationship with us?’

Hyperion snorted coldly, his rage not clouding his mind. He gave Laine one final look and turned to leave.

Any more harsh words now would only become a joke, but today’s matter isn’t over!

Watching Hyperion walk away, Laine shook his head slightly; he could probably guess what the other was thinking. But unfortunately, when to act, you may decide; when to end, that’s for me to say.

And so the next moment, he reached out his hand and took out a gift that had been stored for fifteen hundred years.