Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

"Praise be to the most high king."

Bowing his head, Deucalion did not look into the other's eyes. He knew all too well why his father had been imprisoned in the East Sea, and he was fully aware of the Divine King's lack of mercy. As for "hearing their prayers," it was ludicrous; he knew better than anyone that he had never prayed to the Divine King, not for a single moment.

Yet the other had still come. In that moment, the wisdom inherited from his father allowed Deucalion to see the whole truth of the matter, or perhaps the Divine King had never intended to hide it from the gods. He wanted to destroy all the old memories, erase the canvas that had been stained with the colors of others, and then create a new one, a blank slate upon which he could exert his will.

"It seems you have no objections, which is excellent."

As he saw the two of them behaving submissively, Zephyrus's smile became more genuine. He waved his hand, and something given to him by the Divine King fell upon the ancient mountain range, infusing the soil and stones with a special vitality. At the same time, the Sacred Stone placed in the Delphi Temple by Zeus glowed faintly, as if recreating the scene of the past creation of man.

In this world, only three beings could create humans in such a manner: one who bestowed souls upon humanity, one who bestowed bodies, and one who bestowed the right of existence. The first two remained unchanged with the passage of time, but the latter was tied only to the position of the Divine King.

Now that Zeus was the Divine King, and since he did not intend to make further modifications to the human body and soul, he could use this simple method to bring forth humans here. This act of creation was not divine but more akin to the exercise of authority, a reenactment of certain objective laws.

"Since it is so, I shall now convey the will of the Divine King—"

With a smile, the God of the West Wind slowly began to speak.

Before him, Deucalion and Pitha awaited, seemingly submissive, the command from the Divine King. But just as he was about to speak, another calm voice suddenly resounded.

"I have come in answer to your prayers, now, hear my oracle."

Startled, Zephyrus instinctively searched for the source of the voice, then quickly understood. His gaze turned icy as he looked at the two in front of him, realizing that these children of the Gods of Punishment had deceived him. But in this moment, Deucalion seemed indifferent to this revelation.

He simply took Pitha's hand and bowed respectfully.

"The fairest in Olympus, the upholder of divine order, the great Themis, who establishes covenants for the world, we, the descendants of Iapetus, listen to your reprimand here."

"Leave Panasus, return to the Mortal Realm," the goddess's voice replied, "Cover your faces with a veil, unbelt your waists, cast the bones of your mother behind you, and your wish shall be fulfilled."

"Mother? She—"

Pitha was confused, thinking that the goddess was telling her that her mortal mother had passed away in the great flood. Instinctively, she wanted to refuse, for she did not wish to offend the spirit of Pandora after death. However, Deucalion stopped her again, simply bowing before and thanking the goddess for her guidance.

"Thank you for your mercy."

Rising to his feet, Deucalion looked at the God of West Wind not far away. Zephyrus, who had stood before them, now retreated a distance from the two, too wary to receive their homage to the Goddess of Law.

But as they stood up and faced the two before them, the West Wind God coldly said:

"So you deceived me earlier, just as the Bronze Humanity did, again deceiving the messenger of the Divine King?"

Zephyrus swore that if they admitted to this, he would punish Deucalion with something far worse than what his father had suffered. For a moment, he seemed to forget that he hadn't intended to let them survive the creation of humans either.

However, Deucalion only shook his head, responding calmly to the West Wind's accusation.

"I merely spoke the truth, Lord Zephyrus, is not the great Master of Law a deity of Mount Olympus?"

The Wind God did not respond, but transformed into a gust of air and vanished before them. Watching this, Deucalion finally breathed a sigh of relief and picked up a pebble from the ground, looking at Pitha beside him.

"Mother Earth is the origin of all, and the mother of gods as well, the soil and stones are her bones, and now, we do not act as Deucalion and Pitha, we are but a part of the world, descendants of Mother Earth in the Mortal Realm."

Humans no longer need a creator; thus, they must veil their faces and shed their identities. They shall create beings as beings, not in the name of any particular individual.

Somewhat puzzled yet compliant, Pitha nodded her agreement. Thereupon, they loosened their clothes, covered their faces, and walked onward, picking up stones from the ground and tossing them behind as they went.

As the stones left their hands, transformation began. When they landed, inanimate objects became living beings. This new generation of life was not made by gods; they were 'self'-made.

Unseen, a peculiar force reverberated from this beginning point. The temple in the distance grew older and more mystical, the Bronze Age thus became part of [History], and in the Golden Apple Orchard of Mother Earth, a special fruit also matured a segment under the surprised gaze of the Nymphs.

In the depths of the Spirit Realm, the [Well of Reincarnation] also imperceptibly expanded a fraction.

On the Aurora Plains, Humar calmly faced the end of life, and as his soul left his body, blessed by Laine before his departure, his gaze seemed to cross mountains and seas, witnessing this moment on the slopes of Mount Panasus. Yet perhaps because he was at the 'end' of 'life' and at the beginning of 'death', the vision in his eyes appeared blurred.

He did not see birth, but destruction.

"As heaven and earth part... you too, will be like us."

"But humanity will only be better."

The era would end, but humans would not, much like those who had survived but could no longer call themselves Bronze. Thus, watching it all, the last of the Bronze Humanity closed his eyes; he had no worries, serenely welcoming the end that was his destiny.