Chapter 241

Chapter 241

Of course, more than just these few players were energetically promoting the New Mythology. Once the content of the myth was settled on the player forums, everyone began showcasing their unique talents.

There was no need to elaborate on those holding concerts. Some put on plays, others drew comics, while some sang operatically, wrote books documenting the events, created comic strips, collaborated with bards to compose music, attempted to release audio recordings, and, believe it or not, even performed exorcisms!

You might say it was irrelevant, but exorcisms were originally part of religious rituals, which actually aligned with the theme of the New Mythology. Players' minds opened up, and they found all sorts of ways to perform this new myth.

Every day brought fresh antics and new spectacles. Eventually, this surpassed the search for rules as another popular topic in the live streaming zones. With their sheer numbers and positive content, the players of Fate's Requiem once again gained widespread attention!

Within a mere week, the hashtag of "Fate's Requiem" returned to the top of social media trends. This time, the players of Fate's Requiem could proudly declare that their game had more to offer than just beautiful NPC characters.

They also had creative players causing chaos!

Mellow Peach: Holy moly, you guys are too awesome! How do you come up with these ideas?

Druid: I had no idea there were so many talented individuals among the players.

Pink Bunny: You have no idea what else is out there. (With a cigarette in mouth)

Milk Tea Dog: Isn't this the Master of Comics? Is Master not promoting through comics this time? I think humanizing technology could be an interesting theme.

Canteen Auntie: Perhaps this will become an eternal legend, worshiped by future generations. The historians of the future might say, "Studies reveal that some Completists crossed dimensions to settle in reality solely for the sake of new world comics!"

Blood Acolyte: Want my comics? If you do, go to the New World. I've put all of them there!

Pink Bunny: Scram! —

Evens Seeker: Hahahaha, you guys are too much. But who knows, maybe some Completists will indeed go for the sake of those comics!

Yaya: Master Pink Bunny, aren't you interested at all? You could be the queen of comics!

Pink Bunny: ... (flips table)

In any case, the various Completist gatherings were abuzz with excitement, as if a stagnant pond had suddenly been infused with life.

Some rejoiced, while others worried.

Upon hearing about something new in the Completist settlements, the leader of the Crow of Doom hurried over, just in time to catch the players' performance in progress.

This play portrayed how the players, as scientists, drew inspiration from everyday life to uncover the laws of the world within their laboratories, offering a glimpse into how humanity climbed the ladder of technology.

Though theater had become a niche form of entertainment in the players' era, it remained novel and captivating in the Dream World, where amusement options were scarce. Almost the entire town had turned up, setting aside their anxieties about the future and fear of rules to attentively watch the players' performance.

The leader of the Crow of Death carefully took his seat at the back, observing the reactions of the audience and the stage production.

By this point, the players had revealed much of the truth, including the fact that the completion of the interdimensional vessel required the sacrifice of the Woken's innate talents. Most Woken were uneasy about this, eager to know how they would survive without these abilities. Thus, most residents attended the performances to understand the realities of the new world.

Yet, what troubled the Crow of Death was the lack of rejection or unease on the faces of those around him. On the contrary, most seemed engrossed, seemingly unconcerned about a world without divine protection.

What filled him with even more dread was that the performance on stage was more than just acting!

He sensed the magic lingering in the air – this was... a Mythical Rite!

Mythical Rites functioned by narrating stories that guided the Woken's spiritual energy and will. The more they identified with the tales and the deities within them, the more power they fed back to the gods, strengthening the bond between mortals and immortals.

Stories could take any form, be it written, sung, or passed down orally. However, nothing compared to the lively and engaging presentation of the players. They seemed to have endless ideas to pique the Woken's interest, and the new mythology was spreading like a virus throughout the Dream World.

This was the source of the Raven of Death leader's unease and terror.

The promotion of the New World was not unexpected; it was within the Raven of Death leader's calculations. However, why would they weave the New World into a myth? How could they dare to invoke the Rites of Myth?

In this age, the Rites of Myth had long become taboo. The connection between humans and gods had turned into a conspiracy to bring about the gods' downfall. Logically, such rites should have been forever sealed. Why would they dare to do so?

What exactly… did they intend to achieve?

This was the true source of the Raven of Death leader's terror. Although the new myth created by the players didn't include any old deities, meaning that even if it gained the recognition of the Perfect Humans, it wouldn't benefit any gods, the amassed faith would still draw the attention of the old gods.

The Rites of Myth were originally a bridge of communication between humans and gods. If, in the end, not only those people but also the Perfect Humans joined in…

Noticing the approval and longing in the eyes of the Perfect Humans around him, the foreboding in the Raven of Death leader's heart grew stronger. He couldn't help but stand up, leaving the play before it ended, and headed for Bader's domain.

The Raven of Death leader had an item given by Bader that allowed him to traverse a great distance in a short time, enabling him to promptly report any situation to his master. In just two hours, he reached the outskirts of Bader's domain and eagerly entered. But the moment he passed through the walls, he was suddenly assailed by shadows.

Struggling for two seconds, the shadows suddenly merged into his body. A hint of blankness flashed in the Raven of Death leader's eyes, and after two or three seconds, he regained his clarity. He completely forgot what had just happened and, focusing on his mission, hurried toward Bader's palace.

"Something's wrong, Lord Bader—"

"Be quiet," Balder said, his gaze fixed on the Dreamworld map spread out before him. "I don't need your input."

He had heard it.

No god could ignore that voice.

At first, it was a mere whisper in their ears, but then more voices joined, like a gentle stream swelling into a tumultuous sea. The collective voices and wills of the Completes sang praises to the same myth.

Odin, who had slumbered for ages, the Three Purities, Shiva, Zeus – all opened their eyes, their golden orbs piercing into the Dreamworld.

Best hummed a tune composed by the players as she stroked her cat's chin, turning her head to ask Lane, "With so much faith, if your name were mentioned, you might even overshadow Judas."

Lane smiled at the player forums, casually browsing through the players' creations while replying, "If there are gods involved, the effect wouldn't be as strong."

The essence of the new myth lay in humanity's unyielding self-improvement. It was precisely because no divine presence existed within that it captivated the Completes' attention.

This wasn't the Endless Duckweed. In the age of the Old Gods, no matter how many antics the players pulled, the Completes wouldn't have believed them. For they had genuinely been protected by the Old Gods during that era, and those days had lasted for an eternity.

But now, things were different. The Old Gods hadn't appeared in a long time. The Completes were puzzled, lost, and even resentful. They didn't trust any of the Old Gods. When the Raven of Doom revealed the truth, they would turn their resentment inward, despairing about the future of their world.

All prior rules and conventions were shattered, giving rise to the fertile ground for reflection and free will to flourish wildly.

In truth, weren't the perfect beings in the Dream World also products of their own relentless struggle in hell? Hence, upon realizing that humans in this new world had created everything with their own hands, just like them, they felt a profound sense of identification, even admiration and yearning.

The players hadn't created anything new; they merely ignited the sparks that lay hidden within the perfect beings.

A spark had turned into a blazing fire.

The Old Gods listened silently to this voice, one that had been silent for a thousand years and now resounded once more—the new myths spun by the perfect beings.

Mythical Rites were proof of the connection between gods and humans, but in this instance, there was no place for gods within them.

It was as if the perfect beings, sheltered beneath their wings, were bidding them farewell.

Though storms raged and thunder boomed outside, the child was ready to embark on their journey.