Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

However, this inversely proves a point, that the idea of opening up a world and drawing growth from the domains that originally belonged to the Primordial Deity is feasible. Cronus could only grapple with the mindless Abyss, slowly devouring it over the span of time, because he was not, after all, a Primordial God, but I won't be needing any of these... Of course, those are all matters for later.

As for Erebus at the moment, he had made his preparations beforehand and had prepared for the aftermath, all that was missing was the right opportunity.

"That's enough for now, you still have plenty of time to hesitate. But I hope that by the time the opportunity presents itself, you have made your final decision."

With this speech concluded, a sweep of his long sleeve, and the figure in the shadows vanished as silently as it had appeared, leaving the God of the Ocean alone in his palace.

He had no more to say, the rest, time would tell.

...

Whoosh—

In the space of a breath, from the outer sea to the inner sea, Erebus, having left the Circumterrestrial River, spanned the vast distance and arrived above the Ionian Sea.

The realm of Humans was on a large island not far off, with a few ships sailing the nearby waters. However, the reason Erebus had come here was simply because it was near the Pontus Euxinus.

Zeus was still there, and he wasn't in a rush to go over. After going over the preparations he had made once again, Erebus repeated the only condition he was missing.

"An opportunity."

Or more precisely, his moment of death.

Although he had been striving towards this, he really didn't know if Laine could offer this chance. Because the latter had never shown that sort of invincible, absolute power to make him feel undefeatable. The last time they confronted each other, they were separated by a negligible margin. Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

So if it was just that sort of Laine... could he really come to 'kill' him?

"No matter, I never put all my eggs in one basket. You and Zeus, or maybe the Spirit Realm and the mortal realm, one of you has to win, right?"

With a light chuckle, the Lord of Darkness felt the issue was not significant.

Oceanus was just the first, but certainly not the last. He would gather all the allies he could find, one by one, and then create an opportunity, a reason, to measure the limit of Laine's cards, or if what was shown was all he had.

If he truly possessed the power to confront by himself the lineup he envisioned, then there's no doubt such a world-conquering strength would be sufficient to tear him apart—then, he would go 'die,' letting him continue the struggle against the Law of the mortal realm.

After all, the Divine King was one of the lineup, and he didn't believe that Laine, having cut down Zeus, could still live peacefully with the mortal realm as he does now.

But if not... it wouldn't be a big deal. Numerous beings would eradicate all traces of the Spirit Realm abroad, each building up their Hatred against Laine, with himself being only one of them. At that time, the Lord of Darkness would initiate the backup plan—and it's unfortunate that Zeus would be the unlucky one again.

"Thinking this way, it seems that no matter which option, the Divine King is bound to be unlucky."

"But that's normal... I am the master of the Lightless Domain, Laine is the master of the Spirit Realm, and even Cronus has now become the master of Hell, but only the Divine King has never been the master of the mortal realm and destiny."

Gazing at the colorful lights above the sea of Pontus Euxinus, Erebus felt some regret. He heard that Laine liked painting, it's a pity he wasn't good at it.

Otherwise, he would definitely create a painting to commemorate Zeus, something like "The Last Wedding" or "The Feast of the Golden Apple" would be nice.

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"That day will mark the end of the third era, and once again a Divine King will lose his throne. But who, I wonder, is Destined to be the fourth generation Divine King?"

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The year 852 of the New Chronicle, late autumn.

The attention of the deities converged upon the sea, some were at a wedding, others were on the great river. Humans, meanwhile, gathered around Athens, awaiting a visual and auditory feast to determine the victor, whose name would be renowned throughout the world.

As a year that would be etched into history, much like the later years of 1914 and 1939, it not only drew the attention of divine beings and mortals on a physical level, but also stirred ripples in the domain of fate.

This moment marked the beginning of the great competition, with various colored placards being raised in the hands of tens of thousands of spectators in the trapezoid stands, twelve numbers emerged in mid-air, counting the number of each colored placard.

It wasn't any form of image recognition, but a simple application of alchemy, as each person's voting placard was placed within a suggested mechanical structure. Only one could be chosen at a time, one must put down the previous before picking up the next, and a transmission structure allowed for an easy tally of how many placards each held aloft.

Sitting in a secluded corner, Iapetus watched the lively crowd with interest.

In the past, athletic and intellectual competitions were not uncommon, but those were the stages for heroes and sages, where spectators could only cheer and watch. But now, Athens' design had truly broken new ground, causing astonishment and delight for providing the chance to participate.

Iapetus was no exception; he held a black placard with enthusiasm, joining the noisy crowd.

"Things really are changing day by day, I still remember when humans only knelt and worshipped each deity, their leaders hauling huge stones to build temples for All Gods. Time flies, so many years have passed..."

The God of Speech, Iapetus, was closely related to the birth of earliest humans, and his eldest son, Prometheus, was indeed the creator of the Bronze Humanity.

Since he and Gaia created the Silver Generation, this ancient Titan God had been living in seclusion, not involving himself in the affairs of other deities, even if his offspring were imprisoned or holding up the heavens, he simply looked the other way.

Perhaps, though, a solitary life was too dull, and he often disguised himself as a mortal to experience life in their realm.

As for this time... perhaps it was because he had once glimpsed fate that he felt an unseen pull, or maybe it was just because, as the God of Speech, Iapetus enjoyed such debates of the wise. In any case, he had come to the mortal world again, to this very arena.

He was in good spirits; such days couldn't get any better—

"Hmm?"

Suddenly, Iapetus's figure stiffened for a moment, disbelieving what he had just seen.

He took a deep breath and looked again towards that place. But this time, he saw nothing.

"Whew—just a case of mistaken identity."

"It's impossible, anyway. The Mother Goddess has long been absent; how could she appear here? No, absolutely impossible."

Quietly reassuring himself, Iapetus felt it was time to make himself scarce.

As much as he wanted to watch this grand event, it was better to avoid trouble as much as possible.

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