Leaving the great vortex of the East Sea, Laine now had an additional painting in his hand.
The painting was a work in progress, but the remaining parts no longer required his brushstrokes. Time and the changes of the ages would add their own hues to it.
This time in meeting Prometheus, be it the painting or promises, Laine didn't have any particular purpose; he was simply drawn by the memories of his past and felt compelled to act on his desires.
As a deity, he could do as he pleased, and many myths of later generations were spurred by nothing more than the whims of a god or man, which then led to a series of changes.
Just as Laine had promised, on the day of Bronze Humanity's demise, if there was anyone who worshipped him, that person would survive; if all humans worshipped him, then the Divine King's disaster would become a joke.
Although, given human nature, such an event was impossible, Laine had indeed decided on this plan.
He refrained from using his powers in the mortal world, not because he couldn't, but because there was no need. As he had said before, each intervention in the mortal world would escalate into a confrontation with the laws of the mortal world and the Spirit Realm, growing more intense with each encounter. Yet, the first few clashes were negligible to Laine.
He had predicted that there would be few occasions through the Third Epoch requiring his intervention.
"It's time to go back."
Laine glanced over, and in the Spirit Realm, all the angels were performing their duties diligently, and the God of Sleep also seemed to be hard at work, contributing to the already-perfect world of dreaming spirits. His journey through the Nine Realms had yielded much; it was about time he processed these acquisitions.
However, there wasn't anything pressing in the foreseeable future, so Laine began his ascent, step by step, through the passage he had left, starting from the first level of the Spirit Realm.
Overnight, a fire that was extinguished and then reignited, a creator who suddenly vanished, the divine gifts that lost their marvels, and the beasts that began attacking humans – these sudden calamities had caused a massive uproar within the Bronze Human Tribe.
Especially within the Great Temple dedicated to the Divine King. The charred figure lying prostrate on the ground was unrecognizable, but through the accounts of the night watchman, his identity was clarified.
Ossen, the High Priest, one of the creator's favorite disciples, now his tragic state combined with all these changes, led people to the easy conjecture that perhaps he had angered the gods enough to bring down such divine punishment from Olympus.
For a moment, the established order of humanity even showed signs of collapse, although due to the short time that had passed, inertia still drove people to carry on with their work and lives.
This was thanks, in part, to the arrival of the Sacred Fire, which prevented this primeval human city from falling apart instantly under the threat of the transcendent beasts and the gods' imminent punishments.
"High Priest, can we... keep hiding this?"
In the former residence of the creator, the priests of Aurora City had gathered, and facing the recent turmoil, they too were somewhat panicked.
Others might not know, but the priests could probably guess the whole story. The reason for the deities' wrath wasn't just because of Ossen; it was the collective sin they all had committed.
But for some reason, the gods had not made their accusations explicit. They had taken the creator but turned a blind eye to the priests.
"Of course we can, there's no need for you to panic!"
Unlike the rest of the flustered priests, Momon was exceedingly confident. In fact, many who knew him thought that he looked even healthier and more vigorous than before.
"The creator brought us fire, and because of this, the gods also gave up on further punishing humans. Naturally, this matter ended there."
"I'm not sure if what you're saying is true, nor if the gods have forgiven us, but if they have... do we still need to worship the gods?"
Upon hearing this, the room fell silent; it was a troublesome matter.
After all, the blessings of the deities had been withdrawn. Even if the punishment was lifted because of the creator, that didn't mean their worship would still receive responses.
And without responses, humans, who were accustomed to the fruits of worship, would certainly not be pleased to hear that they could offer sacrifices to the gods but receive no benefits in return.
But to straightforwardly cease worship, the priests found it difficult to decide. After all, they couldn't predict whether this would reignite divine wrath, and if sacrifices were no longer needed, the purpose of the priests would become redundant.
Even for their own sakes, they weren't keen on just ending the sacrifices.
"About this matter, I have considered it; there's no rush."
Momon's movements were neither rushed nor lax as if he had everything under control.
"We can't just tell people to offer sacrifices unconditionally, as it would easily provoke dissatisfaction. So, we must change our approach."
"We need to tell people not only have the gods retracted their gifts, but their punishments are still looming."
At this moment, although everyone knew Momon was spouting nonsense, his demeanor suggested he was stating the truth.
"Storms, beasts, frost – these are all parts of the punishment. Only devout sacrifices to the gods can avert disaster."
"But we all know that this is actually not—"
"Who says it's useless?"
Momon's cold voice interrupted, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.
"If someone gets hurt, or dies, it's because they weren't devout enough. It has nothing to do with us, or the gods. And what's most important, the Sacred Fire brought by the creator is still here."