Chapter 266

Chapter 266

Lan... En?

Ogar reached out instinctively, but the distance was too great. He could only watch helplessly as the figure of the young Pastoral God dissipated like snowflakes.

The sunshine that he once believed was shining upon him had now departed far away.

It's so cold...

So cold.

It was as if he was back on that solitary island, buried under the harsh winter.

...

In that moment, the believers on the ground—Amos, Albert, Carrens, and Edmund—abruptly lifted their heads to look at the sky. They sensed something, but they dared not believe it. They had never imagined such a situation could occur.

"Lord Lan... Lord En..."

Edmund struggled to sit up, his hand trembling as he reached out to the player tending to him. With a sense of urgency in his voice, he pleaded, "Don't move! Your wounds are still bleeding!"

Still, Edmund persevered, desperately trying to rise, only to fail time and again, his wounds tearing open, spilling blood across the ground. The players had no choice but to restrain his flailing limbs. "Someone, help me!"

Not just him, Albert too, lifted his gaze blankly, staring at the sky.

Amos suddenly broke into a grin, humming an unfamiliar tune under his breath. The divine presence that was engrossed in discussing the next course of action with Judith trembled. A system notification sounded, signaling a successful inspiration. Turning his head, he surveyed his surroundings, noticing Amos. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an uncanny sense of danger from Amos, as if he were a wild beast unleashed from its reins.

In a laboratory within the Divine Realm, Clay was engrossed in front of a monitoring screen. Now and then, he would attempt to reason with Archie, urging him to conserve his energy: "Give up. Lord Lane had already mentioned that you cannot be released."

"Why am I the only one not allowed to help humans?" Archy raged, but his curses did nothing to loosen the vines entwining him. The Sphinx, too, grumbled in Archy's Dream Gap, despising herself for her lack of offensive abilities for the first time.

Clyde shrugged. "Lord Lahn said our powers mustn't be wasted here. If he loses, we'll have to guide the remaining humans and believers."

"I don't care about that…" Archy paused in his struggles, his knees buckling as he fell to the ground.

Clyde sensed something and looked up.

The Divine Realm was collapsing.

A powerful repulsion struck them, and the entire Divine Realm was ejecting them.

Lord Lane had said that this place was the safest as long as he was alive. But if he was no longer here...

Clyde suddenly found it all rather meaningless. He didn't really care about the state of this world. Lord Lane had chosen the wrong person as the safeguard for humanity, for Clyde would only perish alongside the old world.

...

With his greatest threat eliminated, Bader waved his hand in a good mood. The three angels resumed their descent to follow the steps of the Apocalypse to slay humans. However, at this moment, Ogar showed no intention of intercepting them. Instead, he silently stared at Bader.

Bader had originally planned on getting rid of Ogar directly. Without Lane, the latter was merely a convenient weapon, posing no real threat to him. But as he lifted his gaze, he raised an eyebrow in interest. "What is this?"

Without notice, a layer of shadow had started to cover Ogar's body. It was as if he was melting into the shadows. This shadow wasn't just the manifestation of raw power like before; it was something deeper, more corrupt.

Like mud in a sewer, the darkest depths of night, or the shady corners under the blazing sun, various shades of black converged to form different intensities of shadows, leaking extreme negative emotions.

"Ha, hahaha!" Bader immediately understood what it was and broke into a grin. "This familiar power—so you were also born in that tide, just like me. In a way, you're quite similar to me."

He had mentioned the tide of the Dream World before, a convergence of the darkest, most negative mental energy in the Dream World. Due to the nature of mental power, good thoughts gave birth to good things, while bad thoughts naturally brought destruction. Centuries ago, every race living in the Dream World had to learn to expel their negative emotions. They usually channeled these negative mental energies into a special stone, then discarded it into the ocean depths.

In the depths of the Dreamworld, the world's darkest shadows and malevolence lay submerged, waiting for the tides to bring them forth.

Baldur drew upon this dark authority, which subtly influenced his disposition, rendering him inherently devoid of empathy and love, a creature cold in both heart and soul.

Part of Baldur's power derived from the darkness, much like how Aogar sourced his from the shadows. Their experiences were, in essence, comparable.

Yet, Aogar suppressed his darker side. Whenever he gazed upon Lane, those negative emotions were automatically washed away by a foreign, sublime feeling, locked deep within him, unable to surface.

Silence was a product of restraint. Aogar constantly held back his emotions. Due to his giant size and strength, any outburst could damage his surroundings. Thus, he was accustomed to suppressing himself, often silently guarding Lane's back, for that was all he needed to find contentment.

Up until this very moment.

In the Realm of Dreams, an ancient god, in the midst of battling an evil deity, sensed something and lifted their gaze toward the ocean. Bastet, in particular, disregarded her opponent entirely, taking flight directly towards the vast sea.

At sea level, Best halted his flight, his expression grave as he gazed upon the ocean. Various sea-dwelling and coastal species, resembling refugees from a disaster, scrambled desperately away from the shore, their eyes fixed in terror on the churning shadows beneath the surface.

"What's this?" Apollo, too, quickly finished off his opponent and flew over to Bes.

"The shadows of the Dreamworld," Best said, "accumulated since the birth of the species, containing malice, animosity, and all manner of negativity. The will of the Dreamworld is fearful that one day, these depths might erupt and destroy everything that has been built. Thus, it keeps them suppressed beneath the ocean's bed."

Apollo blinked in confusion. As one of the younger Old Gods, he was unfamiliar with such secrets. "Then why are they surfacing now… Oh, is it because Mother is in slumber?"

"Not only that," Bastet sighed, sensing that the matter was more complicated than she thought. "You know about Balder and Ogul, right?"

"What's the point of asking that? One's our brother, the other's a giant."

"They were born almost simultaneously, within half an hour of each other."

Apollo also sensed something amiss. "Does Mother usually conceive two different races at the same time?"

Although most of the Primordial Races in the Dream World were born from the will of the Dream World, the differences between species were vast. For example, the Old Gods were like the favored children of the Dream World, each meticulously crafted as if they were figurines. One or two would be born at a time, and in the case of two, their power sources were interconnected, like Apollo's sun and his sister's moon.

But other races were like mud splatters, randomly scattered by the Dream World, resulting in large numbers. It was unlikely for a mud splatter to coexist with a finely crafted figurine.

"It's not common, but Ogul had to become a giant," Bastet's expression was somewhat intricate. "Old Gods inherently control authorities similar to their origins. Just as you once transformed into the Sun of the Dream World, Ogul was born in the shadows. If he were an Old God, he would have been born the master of shadows."

"He could summon the shadows beneath the Dream World at will, drowning the entire realm and becoming Jormungandr, who initiates the Twilight of the Gods."

The giants' bodies served as a constraint on this ability, for they lacked the powerful mental strength and control over their origins that the Old Gods possessed.

Apollo found the situation peculiar. "If that's the case, he has lost all possibility of escape. So, what's happening down there?"

Bester shook his head. "I have no idea… Let's observe for now."

Under the watchful eyes of the two old gods, the shadow did not crawl onto the shore or invade the Dream World. Instead, after bubbling, it began to sink, relentlessly crashing against the ocean floor as if responding to something or attempting to pass through the seabed into the real dream world.

In the real dream world, Baldur gathered divine power and struck with a casual blow, stirring up the winds and clouds, hitting Ogur directly. Ogur neither dodged nor blocked. There were no holes in his body; instead, cracks resembling those on ceramics spread from his limbs.

If his giant body was an obstacle to the shadow, then he could simply discard it.

Oddly, Ogur didn't think about anything at this moment. Grief, anger—any negative emotions seemed to have been devoured by a black hole within his soul. He just knew what he needed to do to become the Jormungandr he occasionally saw in his dreams.

It didn't matter if he lost his body and merged with the shadow. After all, the person he longed to meet and embrace the most was already gone.

Baldur frowned, looking at the nearly shattered Ogur and sensing something amiss. Just as he was about to finish him off, the seventh trumpet blared in everyone's ears around the world.

Even Baldur was taken aback. He had not instructed the angels to sound the seventh trumpet. Where did this trumpet come from?

The story went back to before Lane was killed by Baldur.

"??? Mythical Appraisal: Great Success"

This ??? Mythical Appraisal stirred up long-forgotten memories within Lane. The first and only time he had used this ability was actually within the Arkham Hospital dungeon.

Similar to that instance, after the ??? Mythical Appraisal achieved a great success, Lane once again lost control of his body.

Despite his immense resistance, it was futile. He witnessed himself being "slain" by Bader, yet his consciousness remained intact.

Lane recalled now that the ??? Mythical Appraisal was actually the Cthulhu Mythos Appraisal. However, for some reason, the game had modified it to ???, possibly due to the mix of diverse elements in this setting that didn't strictly adhere to the Cthulhu universe, hence the decision to simplify it as ??? instead.

The question mark symbolizes mystery, the unknown, and thereby, inclusiveness and infinite possibilities – an unpredictable destiny.

At this moment, three question marks were softly erased by an invisible force, transforming into:

"New Human Myth Assessment: Grand Success"

This was Lane's first time using this appraisal, his initial foray into the essence of his identity and power... and now...

He seemed to glimpse his own fate.

Not predetermined, like being bound within the flow of time, but rather, forged step by step. Looking back, one would discover that the Goddess of Fate had already smiled upon them at the very beginning.

From the moment he received the divine essence representing Pan in the Dreamworld's forest.

From when he rallied players.

From when he defied his ordained fate.

With each collaboration between humans and deities, their destinies intertwined, scripting this very conclusion.

The Seventh Horn sounded.

The Seventh Horn, in the Apocalypse, didn't bring about any calamity. Instead, an angel spoke to God, and its contents, much like why the seventh seal caused Heaven to fall silent for half an hour, remained an eternal mystery to mankind. Only that during the angel's discourse, thunder and flames accompanied it, seemingly provoking God's wrath.

For millennia, humans attempted countless conjectures about this blank space, yet none could convince one another.

Now, the Ark, fixed in Lane's dreamworld to stabilize this realm, began to inscribe this myth into the unconscious void of humanity.

An old faith passed away; Pan perished, marking the end of the Age of Gods.

A new faith emerged, with the birth of Jesus, marking the dawn of the Era of the One True God.

Now, after a millennium of darkness, the Pastoral Deity has risen once more.

From where does He resurrect?

He rises from the depths of human thought, from the humanities suppressed for a thousand years by religion.

His return signifies:

—The departure of religion, the death of God.

In the seventh trumpet's blast, a prophecy of divine heresy echoes, stunning humanity across the globe.

Bader never anticipated such a turn of events. Before he could react, a melodious tune resonated from the earth's surface.

"What is that sound?" The black cat listened attentively, finding it delightful yet unable to identify its origin due to its limited musical knowledge.

In contrast, Matcha Latte, after hearing just a snippet, suddenly chuckled, "That's 'Afternoon of the Faun.'"

Surrounded players were still in confusion as Matcha Milk Green laughed heartily, " Haven't you realized yet? This is the Renaissance!"

Ever since Len embraced the Pantheon's divine essence, he had, in fact, been granted the authority to slay gods, though he was unaware of it.

Baldur's promotion of religion in the real world had been built on the ruins of the Pantheon, leveraging the decline of the Age of Gods to establish a new, singular divine system. From that point on, it seemed fatefully destined that He would be brought down by the Pantheon.

During the Renaissance, people nostalgic for the era symbolizing nature and unchecked growth revived their interest in the Pantheonic deity, who reemerged into public consciousness with a fresh identity. ("The Afternoon of the Pantheon" being a notable work.)

The long-repressed humanism of the Medieval era erupted with the end of the dark age of religious rule. The emergence of the Renaissance marked the shift from a god-centered to a human-centered world, where religion gradually faded and was replaced by the popularity of artistic works celebrating human nature and, inevitably, those satirizing religion.

No longer do humans mindlessly revere deities; they have begun to think, to question. They grew more concerned with those around them than with intangible gods. Thus, technology and humanities experienced unprecedented growth and rejuvenation.

Thus it is that the authority to slay gods bears the name of Humanity.

Despite the majority not fully comprehending it, they were subconsciously captivated by the enchanting melody, which lured them away from the sanctuary. One by one, they ventured out onto the surface, following the source of the music.

Here, the melodious notes of the pan flute resonate more prominently, evoking a fleeting vision where players seem to behold a youth with the lower body of a goat and the upper body of a man, strolling amidst humanity as he plays his pan flute. With every step he takes, a multitude of timeless masterpieces materialize around him – 'The Decameron', 'Mona Lisa', 'Eclogues', 'The Divine Comedy'... each a testament to the enduring legacy of human creativity.

Finally, the half-human, half-goat youth came to a halt before the divine presence, raising his hand to trace the words in the air with deliberate care.

The Subverter of Fate

A Revivalist of Humanity, a Bearer of Farewell to Religion

A New Ruler of Nature and the Forests

"Hey, it's me," the newly reborn Lann waved at the grim-faced Balder with a cheerful smile. "Surprised? I'm back again!"

"And this time, I'll send you back to the embrace of death," Lann declared.

"Try your luck," Balder replied darkly.

Lann asked Ogier to leave, but Ogier refused. Silently, he transformed into a weapon, becoming a black axe in Lann's hand.

Once more, those on the surface witnessed two colossal figures above the clouds.

One was entirely enveloped in light, obscuring its true appearance, yet exuding an innate holiness.

One figure, however, appeared even more peculiar - half-human, half-goat, with horns sprouting from its head, resembling a devil as described in the Bible.

"A battle between gods and demons?" someone murmured.

"What demon? Have some respect, that one is a god too," Matcha Latte retorted indignantly. "Our Pan! If you're talking about demons, look at who's on the other side and recall your recent encounter!"

"Ah... sorry, sorry."

"What can we do now?" the black cat asked anxiously, unable to tear its eyes away, knowing that this 'cutscene' was likely the climax of the closed beta.

The deity pondered among mortals, "Among you, who can play 'The Afternoon of a Faun'?"

Players: ...That's way too difficult, big shot.

As players started recording the scene, the battle between God and Lane began.

Unconsciously, both chose to project their divine power, ensuring that everyone worldwide could witness the outcome. Bader aimed to gather faith, while Lane sought to dissipate it.

Poor Bader, from the beginning, underestimated Lane's power after his resurrection.

The revived Pan, a symbol of the subconscious in humanity, represented an era where 'humankind' no longer needed faith. The brighter the flames of humanism burned, the stronger he became.

Baldur created a miracle with one hand, and an asteroid in the sky struck down precisely on Lane's head. Without lifting his head, Lane split the extraterrestrial rock in two with a single axe stroke.

He glanced at Baldur with his emerald eyes, and branches materialized out of thin air, entwining and binding the god's limbs. Baldur struggled, but the branches were far more elastic than expected, as if imbued with the property of spatial constraint.

Baldur's expression shifted. The remnant power of omniscience revealed to him a myriad of potential futures, and he chose one. Instead of rushing to break free, he swiftly left that space, for he foresaw Lane charging straight at him in the future he saw.

However, just as he dodged, Lane's voice echoed from behind: "Do you think I can't see the future you see?"

Baldur's eyes narrowed slightly, and he immediately activated his divine shield. But under the axe forged from the shadows of the Dream World, it was mercilessly shattered.

A few drops of divine blood fell from the heavens.

God... was wounded?

Silence blanketed the world. Baldur knew something was amiss; the faith within him was dwindling at an alarming rate.

Gods don't get injured, let alone bleed.

Is it the all-knowing, all-powerful God that bleeds?

Bader immediately realized that Lane was not an easy target. He wanted to leave, but in that instant, space and time around them distorted, and countless doors shimmering with silver light opened around them.

"Don't even think about running," Lane chuckled, bearing his axe. "This is being broadcast live. Your followers would be devastated if they saw this."

"Come on, I killed you seven times in the second timeline. Let's see how many more times it'll take to strip away your divine faith."

"Wait, hold on…"

For the first time, Bader found himself frozen in time, standing still as Lane swung his axe at him.

"We can... collaborate..."

For the second time, Baldur attempted to flee, only to be returned by the door just in time to meet Lane's axe swinging down at him.

"I shall assist you in confronting the malevolent deity."

Baldur attempted to shrink in on himself, but to no avail; how could Lane accommodate him? The live broadcast continued.

It wasn't that Lane was too powerful, but rather that Balder was continuously weakening. Ever since Lane's first blow injured Balder, the balance of power had shifted rapidly. The stronger humanity was, the stronger Lane became; conversely, the weaker faith was, the weaker Balder grew.

There was no help for it. To some extent, Lane was the natural nemesis of all gods who relied on faith.

Balder's worst move might have been revealing himself to the entire world. Or, to be more precise, not ruthlessly eliminating Lane when he was broadcasting to two cities.

If his omniscience had been effective back then, perhaps he wouldn't have ended up in this situation.

Lane was now suppressing Balder, forcing him to the ground. The light covering his body had been shattered, exposing his original appearance. The surrounding angels had their wings broken, and their avatars were sniped by players mid-recall, treated as temporary bosses.

As it turned out, even the most devout believers worldwide would not have considered this being to be God after the third time.

Balder landed on the ground, his hands and feet severed. Lane stepped on his head. "Don't move. I'll be quick. I'll put you out of your misery."

"No! No, no, no!" Balder growled in agony. "You can't do this! We're the only ones like each other in this world! I can still help you fight against the evil gods. They are our true enemies!"

"Even if you kill me, the evil gods won't stop their invasion of Earth! They will find other ways to invade, they won't give up. You need me! I know them, I can help you resist the evil gods."

Balder couldn't continue his plea. He saw Lane crouch down, thinking that Lane had finally relented.

Lahn bent down and patted Bader's face with a coldly compassionate gaze. "So it seems that your pleading for mercy before death is no different from that of humans."

Bader was stunned. His lips trembled, but he could utter nothing. "I... I didn't."

"There's no shame in admitting it, my dear brother," Lahn slowly curved a smile. "Humans are like mirrors, reflecting our own shadows. We learn from them, and they learn from us. Your religion did indeed restrain those humans in their primitive era, teaching them self-restraint and discipline."

Bader felt utterly humiliated but had to continue as Lahn instructed. "Yes... Yes, that's right. I wasn't just causing harm to humans."

"But now, they no longer need you. Perhaps one day, they won't need me either," Lahn said. "That day isn't far off."

The axe fell, and the head rolled.

It was over.

With divine power, Lahn crushed Bader's head and body. Standing up, he felt that this long war had finally come to an end.

But a new war was brewing. The threat of evil gods still persisted in this world. However, there were also many people, players, and lone investigators walking in the dark, bearing the burden for humanity's future.

Mankind had never needed salvation from deities.

He lifted his gaze and noticed that the black smoke in the sky had vanished without him noticing. The night was now adorned with shimmering stars, forming a magnificent Milky Way.

Indeed, it was the time when humanity's stars shone brightly.

——THE END

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