Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

Chapter 54: Chapter 31 Civilization

Translator: 549690339

He seemed not to notice the arrival, or perhaps he simply did not care. The sacred hymns continued to echo within the great hall, but this time, Cohen heard them clearly.

The language was not of the gods, nor was it a simplified version interpreted by humans after listening to the divine tongue. Cohen had never heard such a tone before, beautiful and mystical, yet it did not seem like a sound that could be produced with vocal cords. He felt as though he was undergoing a baptism, his soul becoming transparent and sanctified.

A yearning originating from the depths of his heart faintly emerged. It was unlike any longing for beauty; it was more like a thirst for ‘wholeness.’

But as a divine masterpiece, Cohen did not know what he was missing.

“May the gods forgive me.”

Kneeling on the ground, Cohen prayed devoutly.

Although it was his first time hearing it, Cohen effortlessly understood the meaning of the hymn sung by the being in front of him, it praised a supreme existence. He who causes the Moon to rise from the Western Hills, lights up the Underworld with the Light of Spirituality. He is the great one above time, the eternal sovereign.

After a while, or perhaps a long time, the vast hall fell silent again as the last note dissipated.

In the silence, Cohen heard footsteps approaching from a distance. He lifted his head, and it was the mysterious being who had been chanting hymns.

He had never seen such attire. The white robes were woven from materials unknown, not at all like the stems and leaves of plants. The hood hung low, covering the individual’s features, although Cohen did not believe himself to have any eye for appraisal, he still felt that it looked better than the garb worn by the gods on Mount of the Gods.

It was a thought he should not have had, but thinking that the other might also be related to the gods, Cohen convinced himself again.

The gods can naturally do better than another god.

“Are you human?”

From beneath the hood, a gentle yet distant voice came. It was still that strange language, although unheard before, Cohen could understand its meaning.

In his perception, this language did not seem to be ‘heard’ by his ears, but conveyed to the depths of his heart in another way.

“I am, your highness,” Cohen replied respectfully to the query of the being in front of him, despite not knowing if the other was a god, Cohen still used a respectful title for deities.

“Your highness, it was not my intention to intrude here, I was just planning to res—”

“I know.”

The person in white before him interrupted Cohen’s explanation.

“You came here through a dream, human. Seven hundred years ago, the Lord brought Sleep to the creatures on earth. First it was the plants, then the animals, and then you Humans.”

“Eventually, even the gods will gradually learn to sleep. And you, as the first intelligent life to dream, are permitted to cross the seven layers of the Spirit Realm and step into The Temple on the sacred mountain.”

“The gods will sleep?”

First startled, then somewhat astonished. Cohen’s attention was entirely captured by the first part of the statement; it was beyond his imagination that gods would also be forced into ‘dreams’—this was inconceivable.

“It’s not what you think.”

Shaking her head, Yvengeline glanced at the mortal before her and began to explain:

“Just as water, food, and breathing are indispensable parts of existence for mortals, the gods can choose to accept or reject them, and Sleep is the same.”

“I understand, thank you for answering my questions.”

Feeling calmer, Cohen replied respectfully.

Gods can refuse, which aligns with the simplistic logic of the Golden Humanity. As for whether the other party had deceived him, the human at this point did not yet know what Deceit meant.

“I still don’t know your honorable name, your highness. Blessed by the gods, I was allowed to come here to see you. When I return to my tribe, I will surely build a Temple for you… and your ‘Lord,’ so that whether by day or night, there will be humans singing praises of your greatness.”

Cohen did not lift his head, but he felt that, from beneath the white hood, a gaze had sized him up for a moment.

“I am Yvengeline, the Angel who sings hymns for the Lord, the embodiment of the Spirit Realm’s music. As you have surmised, by the definition of the outside world, I am indeed a ‘deity.’”

Gently shaking her head, Yvengeline spoke softly:

“But the Lord does not need you to build temples, nor does He need your Faith, and neither do I require them.”

“If you wish, then do one thing for me.”

Cohen was taken aback, not having expected such a reply. But as the Divine King had a request, as part of the Golden Humanity, he naturally intended to comply fully.

As for not needing faith, Cohen easily accepted this. In fact, limited by the flaws in the souls of Golden Humanity, their scant Power of Faith did not catch the attention of the gods. Under such circumstances, some gods did not even wish for the mortals to worship them.

“To serve Your Highness is the very purpose of my existence,” Cohen replied reverently, just as he had done every time he received a divine decree in the past.

“Good, what I want you to do is quite simple. Step forward and note down whatever you can remember, that is all.”

The cool voice fell, and Yvengeline pointed towards the stone slab on the central pedestal.

Following the direction indicated by the ‘God of Melody,’ Cohen clearly saw that at the center of the great hall, two sculptures with wings on their backs were kneeling on the ground, their hands raised high, together supporting a pedestal.

Above the pedestal hovered an ancient stone slab. As it bobbed up and down, Cohen vaguely made out something written on it, but when he looked closely, he found it hard to discern clearly.

For some reason, Cohen felt that the faceless deity before him seemed very similar to the statues. If the beings holding up the pedestal folded their wings and donned their hoods, the one on the left would be the spitting image of her.

“As you command, Your Highness.”

Collecting his thoughts, Cohen stood up and slowly approached the pedestal. At first, he felt as if he were engaging in a futile effort, for no matter how he ‘approached,’ he still couldn’t make out the content on the stone slab. Time passed by the second until, at a certain moment, he finally saw two symbols on the slab.

They were characters he had never seen before, ever-changing, flickering in and out of existence. But for some reason, Cohen understood their meaning.

‘Civilization…Era?’

The next instant, endless knowledge flooded into Cohen’s mind, and amidst the torrent of information, he nearly lost his sanity. Some he could understand, some he could not, and when these mingled together, he felt as if his soul was being torn apart.

It was as if in a flash, or as if a long time had passed, Cohen felt himself leaping through a colorful tunnel, and then suddenly awoke beside a tree.

“Heh”

Instinctively clutching his head, Cohen realized that the influx of knowledge had stopped. Disorganized thoughts swirled in his mind, yet he found many useful things within them.

“Civilization, what is it?”

Muttering to himself the first sentence that had been imprinted in his mind from the slab, Cohen knew of ‘Era,’ the mighty force said to be governed by the Divine King and Queen of Gods. But ‘Civilization’ was something he had never heard of before.

“King, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just feeling a bit under the weather,” he replied.

Cohen’s abnormality was noticed by passersby, and in response to their inquiries, Cohen brushed them off casually.

The day’s experiences were truly unforgettable, but considering the knowledge in his mind, perhaps that was the treasure gifted by the gods, meant for him to share with all of humanity.

Thus, Cohen stood up and walked towards the Temple that was under construction.

Previously, he had been astounded by the magnificence and beauty of the Temple, deeming it the pinnacle of human skill.

But now, he felt that what he had done was still far from enough.

Gifted with knowledge by the gods, he naturally would not keep it to himself. He planned to organize it and teach it to every Golden Human. Only skills originating from the gods could better serve the gods.

Walking on the firmly packed earthen road, Cohen was somewhat excited. However, what he did not know was that at that very moment, the King of All Gods, who had once bestowed the decree for him to build the Temple, was watching him from the summit of Mount Othrys.

Before slumber, during slumber, and upon awakening, the Divine King had been quietly observing him. He watched Cohen excitedly share his recent experiences with other humans, teach them various pieces of knowledge, and speak of the mysterious slab.

“Humans…”

“So, what exactly do you want?”

Shaking his head, Cronus turned away and returned to his chambers.

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