Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

Hurrying back to Aurora with the lit fennel branch, what appeared before Prometheus were the panicked crowds in the darkness and the crumbling order that no one managed.

The Divine King’s verdict fell on the ears of deities, recounting the reasons he condemned humans, but it wasn’t the same for mortals.

Perhaps out of disdain to prove anything to mortals, or more likely because the Divine King never intended to let them go, what humans understood was still that simple sentence.

From today onwards, the fire granted to humans will be taken away.

They heard those words, and then, just as they said, the flames in the human settlements were extinguished all at once, plunging into darkness and cold.

“Creator, I have been waiting for you to come back, because I believe you will sort this all out.”

In front of Prometheus’s residence, facing the Creator’s implicit questioning, Momon slightly bowed, trying to speak with a hint of joy.

By his side were hundreds of people who had come to the Creator’s residence in a panic seeking guidance. As the former High Priest, they subconsciously saw Momon as their leader.

“Believe in me… perhaps.”

“Momon, whatever you want to do, my time is running out, and you must have witnessed what befell Ossen.”

With the Sacred Fire in his hand, Prometheus felt his mind had never been clearer than it was now. He immediately noticed the abnormality in his disciple standing before him; his body was tainted with an unusual bloodline, just like those beasts stained with Divine Blood. Only, the aura contained in this bloodline was nothing like that of a deity; instead, it reminded him of those from Silver Humanity.

If it were any other time, Prometheus might have tried to probe for the reason, but now, he didn’t have the time. The God of Sun must be on his way, and when the sun rose the next day, it would be the moment he was taken back to Olympus.

The Humans would ultimately have to persevere on their own.

“This is the new fire, it will not be taken back by any deity. I will leave it here, and once I am gone, no one, neither human nor god, will be able to move it; it will forever shelter this city.”

Inserting the burning fennel branch into the altar originally used for worship, Prometheus looked at everyone present.

“If in the future you wish to establish a new settlement, or protect those we have already established, take some from this Sacred Fire. It can help you dispel the Darkness and calamity too. But remember, only the initial flame is truly eternal; once the fire that’s been taken away is extinguished, the town it was in will lose its protection.”

“I will.”

Bowing respectfully, in that moment Momon also felt a bit melancholic. It’s hard not to respect an entity with beliefs, whether they are a good person or a bad one, whether one mocks or praises them.

It’s not about power, but respect for ‘pursuing the impossible’.

“I hope so… If, I mean if, after I leave, the Divine King still refuses to spare humans, you could try leading some westward. If you can find Delphi, perhaps for the sake of the Temple, the Divine King might spare you too.”

With a complex expression, Prometheus offered a final word of caution, though he didn’t think it held much meaning. After all, in this era, how could mortals possibly traverse the wilderness by their own power and reach the distant ancestral human lands?

Consider it a hope, for in disaster, having hope is somewhat better than none at all.

“No need to follow, I’ll walk alone.”

Waving his hand, Prometheus stopped those who wanted to say something, then left the center of Aurora.

It was still a while before dawn; he wanted one last look at the humans he had created, for the next time might be many years later.

······

Dawn was breaking, but the sun did not rise as expected. Outside of Aurora City, two figures were approaching.

“Cohen, you heard that voice just now, didn’t you?”

Evans sounded somewhat afraid because of the voice that had suddenly spoken, as well as the extinguished torch in his hand.

But he wasn’t too afraid, for although that voice claimed to take back the fire given to humans, that wasn’t really the case.

His torch had gone out, but the one in Cohen’s hand had not. They had traveled the latter half of the night aided by that light.

This made Evans wonder if everything before had been an illusion, perhaps his torch had been extinguished by the wind, not because of that sudden voice.

“I heard it, ‘take back the fire given to humans’; that must be the Divine King’s voice, right?”

Unlike Evans, who knew nothing, Cohen recognized the voice. A hundred years ago, he had gazed at that deity from the base of Mount Othrys, watching him challenge the previous Divine King with righteous words, so he remembered his tone.

And according to what other humans said, that deity was named Zeus, now the world’s third Divine King.

“The voice of a deity… then why is your fire untouched?”

Not quite believing, Evans now thought that perhaps what had just happened was actually some prank by this stern-looking fellow.