Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

Time flew by, and seven hundred years had passed since humanity was created.

“Phew—”

At the foot of Mount of the Gods, another nearly ten-meter-high boulder had been moved, and Cohen wiped the sweat from his brow, looking at another temple that was about to be completed in front of him.

Tall and majestic, unlike the Oracle that was born from the finger of a god at the very beginning, this was a temple built by the Golden Humanity on their own.

Before this, they had already constructed many temples in turn, and every True God on the mountain had one of their own.

There were no exquisite bas-reliefs, no mysterious patterns, no sense of the sacred that could reach the soul at a single glance, but Cohen still felt very satisfied.

What gods built symbolized their might; what mortals constructed symbolized their devotion. The two should not be confused.

“King, please take a break.”

Just as he was about to move another stone, a voice from nearby made Cohen halt his steps.

“In serving the gods, we should not long for comfort.”

Shaking his head, Cohen was tired, yet he did not feel the slightest dissatisfaction.

Humans of the Golden Age encapsulated all positive emotions; they were upright, kind, hardworking, brave, and held a heartfelt reverence for the deities. In their eyes, serving the gods was a matter of course.

Besides, as the first human personally created by the Lord of the Spirit Realm, he was naturally crowned king of humankind. After the division of the gods had come to an end, it was only natural that he was chosen by the Divine King and brought to the surroundings of Mount Othrys.

Now, several tribes of different sizes were scattered around Mount of the Gods. They nominally belonged to the various gods of the mountain but all heeded Cohen’s commands.

As the chosen leader, even though the title of ‘king’ was more ceremonial at this time, without concepts of aristocrats, officials, and state, he still held himself to the highest standards. Of course, being the first human, he indeed possessed abilities far beyond those of ordinary people.

“We certainly should serve the gods, but you haven’t rested for seven days.”

Hearing Cohen’s words, the person who came to him understood but still tried to persuade him.

Although Cohen, as the first created human, possessed strength far beyond that of ordinary people, he was after all not a deity.

Even in the original myths, it was only after death that the people of the Golden Age ascended to the heavens to become special Heroic Spirits, approaching the status of quasi-gods.

“…Alright.”

After hesitating for a moment, Cohen was finally persuaded.

Only with enough rest could one work more efficiently. Proper rest was indispensable.

Nodding, Cohen said goodbye to the person and walked over to a shady spot, where he sat down leaning against the trunk of a tree.

In the Chaos World, there was originally no sleep, and what humans called ‘rest’ was merely to stop working. As beings blessed by the gods, they could refresh their energy quite rapidly after a short pause.

But this time, just as Cohen sat down, a strange sense of trance washed over him. He didn’t understand what it was, so he tried hard to stay awake. Yet the power of mortal things ultimately couldn’t resist authority, and in the end, Cohen leaned against the tree trunk and fell into a deep sleep.

Darkness everywhere.

It felt like sinking into the Abyss, with thought unable to stir, encompassed only by a cold sensation.

The concept of time became blurry; it seemed like a day or maybe a second. At some point, Cohen seemed to see a trace of color…

“Phew—”

Suddenly waking up, Cohen realized he was no longer in the original place.

He was now in front of a towering building.

Unlike the stones he had seen before, this building was constructed from various unknown materials, decorated with exquisite patterns and designs.

Some carved with ‘Humans’, some with ‘Objects’; although Cohen couldn’t understand most of the meanings behind the patterns, he recognized one—it depicted a person carving.

He had learned carving, but upon seeing that scene, Cohen felt that what he had learned before was a clumsy joke.

“May Goddess Themis forgive my presumption.”

As soon as this thought emerged, Cohen hurriedly prayed in his heart.

Before, all of humanity’s superficial skills were learned from the Goddess of Justice. This included temple construction, record-keeping of significant events, and sculpting of divine statues.

Beyond that, the goddess also helped humans simplify the inherent texts filled with extraordinary power and taught them much knowledge. Humans used this to write history, commemorating the significant events that had occurred.

However, although what he had seen now was much more than what he had previously learned, Cohen, who quickly came to his senses, did not think it was a problem with the goddess. Gods could not err; the goddess only taught him those skills because mortals should comprehend just that.

After silently praying for a while, Cohen began to observe his surroundings again. Although he did not know where this place was, it was undoubtedly a place befitting only a god.

Cohen did not dare to enter the dwelling of a god on his own, so he looked around. For some reason, everything was shrouded in white fog, as if he were enveloped in the middle, with only him and The Temple being real.

“Creak”

The sudden noise made Cohen turn around sharply. He did not know when, but the great doors of The Temple had opened by themselves.

Seviraz Temple, that was the name of this place. Although Cohen did not recognize any characters, he somehow ‘knew’ this.

But faced with this unexpected change, Cohen was instead relieved. He had confirmed that everything he was experiencing must be the will of the gods.

“Great deity, if it is you who has guided me here, then I shall come forth and meet you.”

After bowing respectfully to the great door, Cohen carefully crossed the threshold and walked into Seviraz Temple.

Past the great door was a long corridor, flanked by rows of columns on each side. The frescoes inside The Temple were even more exquisite, but Cohen dared not look too much. He walked carefully and quickly forward, not to make the master of this place wait too long.

The corridor was very long, far larger than The Temple itself as seen from the outside world. Cohen did not know how long he had walked; the concept of time seemed to blur. Faintly, he seemed to hear a voice coming from afar.

“…morning…, … land of spirits.”

‘Is that the voice of a god?’

His spirit lifted, Cohen hurriedly quickened his pace. Whether it was a god or not, since it existed in this mysterious palace, it certainly had a connection with the divine.

“Light…, … body.”

“almighty.”

“Wear the… crown, encircle…”

“Billion trillion…, together… the name of God.”

The closer he got to the source of the voice, the clearer the words became. Cohen gradually distinguished that it seemed to be a ‘poem’. The great Master of Law had witnessed similar things, hence the Divine King wished mortals to also learn poetry. Unfortunately, though the Golden Humanity has an excellent learning ability, it lacked creativity altogether.

This was not intentional on Laine’s part; no matter how much mortals embellished their so-called ‘positive emotions,’ a being that only possessed these was still twisted.

A twisted soul, not strong enough, of course could not bear more.

Moving quickly forward, out of respect for the gods, Cohen did not run, but his pace was still fast. In one moment, the scene before him finally changed; no longer an endless corridor, Cohen found himself within a vast hall.

There was no deity as expected, only a slender figure enveloped in a white hood. She was sitting sideways on the ground, and the ‘poem’ from before had come from beneath the hood.

And now, the sacred song continued to echo, and as Cohen left the corridor, he felt as if he had crossed an invisible barrier.

It was only after crossing the barrier that he suddenly realized that the previous song was not sung in a language he was familiar with, and those brief verses contained such immense power.

“How can the sinner look upon the true Lord’s majestic glory?”

“Each adorned with jade crowns and ornaments, reverently present The Temple’s golden hall.”

“Holy, holy!”

“In the west of July Bastion, eternally clear in the sky;”

“Was, is now, and forever will be, eternally throughout the ages!”