Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

"Indeed, others have survived, they all gathered in the place where the Sacred Fire is, after coming to their senses."

In a calm explanation, the elder pointed in the direction of the altar and then continued:

"As for the way to escape the disaster, it is all recorded on this tablet."

"A tablet?"

Upon hearing the elder\'s words, Cohen finally noticed the seemingly extraordinary tablet in the other\'s hand.

There appeared to be something carved or written on it, but due to the angle, he was still not too clear about it.

"Yes, I was fortunate to have recorded the details of the event on it."

Humar nodded and then suddenly raised the tablet in his hand.

"Prince Cohen, may I trouble you with something?"

"Of course, but I\'m not any \'prince\'."

He agreed without hesitation, happy to help others within his capacity, but as he said, even though he had been a king, his kingship was more akin to responsibility and duty, not a lofty status.

However, Humar just smiled at Cohen\'s denial.

"That\'s even better, then please take it to where it should go, to the temple where King Zeus was once worshiped."

"I should have awaited Death there, but in the end, I couldn\'t resist coming out. Perhaps the outside is more suitable for me than being buried there."

The old man knew that dying there might preserve his body for a thousand years, and his soul could live on in that place, but merely living had no meaning.

Rather, he preferred to face Death with dignity like his predecessors, even asking to start a new life.

Across from the old man, Cohen fell silent for a while. After interacting for a bit, he could tell that Humar\'s end was near, but he couldn\'t bear to say it outright. Yet, the other man seemed to have long known about it and was not at all afraid.

"You remind me of a friend, his name is Hewa."

Hesitant for a moment, Cohen eventually spoke.

"Really?" Humar\'s eyes brightened as he said with a smile: "If that\'s true, then that\'s my honor."

...

After taking the tablet, Cohen bid farewell to the old man. He had wanted to accompany the elder a bit further, but Humar refused him.

The elder said he still had a day\'s Life, and he wouldn\'t die so soon. Although Cohen did not understand the source of the elder\'s confidence, he still respected his choice.

Walking on the sparse gravel, Cohen headed uphill. Although the layout of the city was no longer discernible, two places remained unaffected: one was the Temple of the King, and the other was the undying Sacred Fire.

Thus, the center of the original city appeared even more pronounced. After the flood, the east was high and the west low; in the southeast of the land, this place could already be called a hill.

However, such minor geographical changes were not a concern. As Cohen felt an increasingly intense warmth from his soul, he was relieved to discover many footprints.

It looked just as the elder had said: many from the Bronze Humanity had survived, which made Cohen quicken his pace. He wanted to go there and see if his newly acquainted friend, Evans, was there.

"...introduce..."

"...his..."

"Hm?"

Faint voices came from a distance, seemingly from the direction of the altar. Due to his injuries, Cohen\'s senses were not as sharp as before. He could only vaguely hear that there seemed to be someone talking loudly ahead, but he couldn\'t make out the words clearly.

There were many people there, gathering together. He guessed what the survivors might be saying after the recent disaster.

Perhaps they voiced discontent with the gods, or uncertainty about the path ahead. But Cohen was beginning to understand that perhaps the hearts of the gods were not so wide, and nobody knew whether they would respond.

Limited by his injuries and despite trying to hasten his pace, Cohen still took a while to get close. When he approached the altar of the Sacred Fire, he finally heard what was being spoken.

To his surprise, the speaker was not boosting the Humans\' Faith or denouncing the cruelty of the gods but was \'preaching.\'

He was spreading the Faith of another deity.

"Ladies and gentlemen, after what has happened, I hope you have no doubts about what I\'m saying."

Standing on a makeshift platform under the scrutinizing eyes of the crowd, Nuo felt extremely calm in his heart.

"The gods of Mount Olympus are not trustworthy, they look upon mortals as if they were ants and, out of whimsy, bring down apocalyptic disasters. Only He is different."

Just before the disaster hit, Nuo had sworn to his own heart: if the god he prayed to really protected the Humans who prayed to him, he would spend the rest of his Life spreading His glory. Now that the flood had receded, it was time to fulfill his promise.

"He does not care whether his name is spread, so He left no title behind; He does not care if humans are grateful for His grace, so He did not seek any recompense. But friends, shouldn\'t humans have a grateful heart, be able to discern truth from falsehood, know right from wrong? Just because God doesn\'t care, does it mean we shouldn\'t?"

"Of course not!"

With a solemn expression, Nuo, a naturally good-hearted person, was not just fulfilling a promise but truly felt he was helping others. To worship such a great deity, who even ruled over the afterlife, seemed beneficial for everyone no matter how one looked at it.

So when Cohen arrived, he happened to hear him say loudly:

"Today, here, I will establish a \'church\' that worships Him, to spread His holy name in the Mortal Realm. That way, when my day comes, I can face Him with equanimity because I know that is the kingdom of my Lord, and I will be there, recounting my deeds in life to Him."