Sukob did not explain what a witch was directly. Instead, he shared a story with the prophetess, a tale that unfolded not in this world but in a distant, faraway land.

Sukob had not lived through the events himself. All he knew came from a book written by King Sidi, titled “Our Story.”

The title suggested an ordinary autobiography or perhaps a simple fairy tale, yet the story within was filled with cruelty and bloodshed.

Reading this story left Sukob, an Avel who had always remained on Ruhe Beast Island, with an unexplainable sense of shock.

He knew the Avel people had a brilliant civilization on another continent. However, he had not realized until reading this book the extent of the sacrifices their ancestors made to ensure their survival and build what they have today.

Thanks to King Sidi’s documentation, this story was finally recorded in a book for others to read.

But beyond the individuals mentioned in these records, how many more stories remained untold? How many lives had been forgotten, unable to ever be remembered?

It was Sukob’s hope that more people would know and remember these things.

With these emotions weighing on him, the old snake man told the young prophetess about the past of the Avel people.

The old man spoke slowly. His deliberate pace allowed the details of the story to unfold with greater clarity.

“Yafuan, to prevent future troubles, swore an eternal oath,” he began, his voice low. “He descended into the Abyss and became its king.”

“And Nia… she eventually vanished. The last anyone saw was her figure, following the moonlight.”

“King Sidi searched, but he could never find her.”

“Perhaps she passed away,” he mused, “or perhaps she left because her heart was broken.”

This was the tale the old snake man told the young prophetess.

“Nia,” Sukob said, his tone solemn. “She was this world’s first witch. The Moon Witch.”

After finishing the story, Sukob looked down at the book in his hands.

He sighed once again, his voice filled with admiration.

“Text is truly magnificent. It allows us to hold onto our past.”

“It lets us capture our present.”

“And it will continue to bridge us to our future.”

To be precise, Sukob’s statement was not entirely correct.

This was because Nia had ultimately failed. She did not become a true witch.

However, neither Sukob nor the prophetess before him understood how Nia had done it. To them, it seemed she had indeed become a witch.

The blind prophetess stood still for a long time, truly shocked by the elements of this story.

The story contained a world beyond Ruhe Beast Island, with winged people who existed only in legends. It told of the Abyss’s origins, of mortal heroes, and of fallen myths.

The story also contained two names she had heard before, in ancient documents.

Now, these two names converged into one.

“The King of the First Layer of the Fire Abyss was actually the Chief Divine Servant of the temple, Yafuan, the one who led the Avel people away from Ruhe Beast Island.”

When she first heard of him, she had thought this divine servant, Yafuan, was a madman for leading a group of people from Ruhe Beast Island to seek a world that might not even exist.

Now, listening to the rest of his story, the name Yafuan, meaning “faraway,” felt like a beautiful, dream-filled prophecy.

But the final outcome destroyed all those dreams and hopes completely.

The divine servant who sought distant lands ultimately became the Abyss King, forever trapped in darkness. The witch who gazed upon the lighthouse of Avel City could never return home.

The prophetess could not imagine what was in their hearts when they made such tragic decisions.

For the sake of the other Avel people, they truly sacrificed everything.

“So the Abyss King was originally a mortal too.”

The name, King of the First Layer of the Abyss, once inspired terror and hatred. Now, it evoked only a profound sense of desolation.

Thinking of the Moon Witch Nia, the prophetess could not resist asking Sukob another question.

“How did Yafuan become the Demon King of the Abyss?”

“And Nia… how did she become a witch?”

Sukob thought for a moment, recalling every word from the book with precision.

“The book says Yafuan saw the answer in a hidden, secret book.”

“It was from this same book that they discovered a blind prophetess was an incomplete witch.”

“Even so,” Sukob continued, “King Sidi’s autobiography never records the name of that mysterious book, nor does it mention its origins.”

But Sukob knew a part of the truth about Ruhe Beast Island. He knew this massive, continent-sized island rested on the back of a divine being who served the Life Sovereign.

“Prophetess,” Sukob said, his voice steady and reverent. “Everything you see is revealed to you by the divine beings.”

“A divine being who serves the Life Sovereign.”

“You cannot yet become a true witch because you have not found the divine being who truly grants you power.”

“Before departing this world, the Life Sovereign set everything in motion.”

“This includes the very protection you are searching for.”

“The Life Sovereign is majestic, having already transcended everything and risen beyond this world.”

The old man sighed and shook his head.

“The divine being is too distant from this world, unable to hear your calls and prayers.”

The old snake man spoke in an orderly manner. He was respectful of divine beings and devout toward the God of Knowledge and Truth.

But as a divine blessed one who knew the secrets of the gods and had witnessed their wars, Sukob had his own views on the relationship between divine beings and mortals.

This was the first time the prophetess had heard such an explanation, and she grew visibly excited.

“Divine Blessed Sukob,” the prophetess asked, her voice full of curiosity, “do you know which divine being grants us prophetesses our power?”

“Even speculation or hearsay would be enough.”

Sukob simply shook his head.

He had heard some news, but that was all.

The names of those ancient existences were cursed. Simply knowing them brought peril, and to call upon them was to invite death.

“This is an answer you must find for yourself.”

Having said what he needed to, Sukob prepared to resume his reading.

But as he picked up the book, he pointed to a sentence from an ancient myth.

“The Life Sovereign blew the horn, and Ruhe Beast Island rose in the middle of the sea. Life spread across the land, and greenery flourished throughout the world.”

“Prophetess,” Sukob said, his voice low.

“This continent was created by that divine being. It is a gift and a form of protection left in the mortal world by the Life Sovereign.”

After listening, the prophetess fell into deep thought.

Dawn arrived, its morning light falling upon the city at the foot of the sacred mountain.

The wing demons guarding the temple soared into the air, while the fire demon on the sacred fire platform restrained its power and fell into slumber.

In the temple’s collection room, Sukob extinguished the lamp beside him, having finished the books he intended to read.

He placed the books back on the shelves and then chose to leave.

The room gradually emptied. Temple guards arrived to close and secure the doors.

Not just anyone could enter this collection room, for many of the books inside were precious and unique copies.

They spoke of generations of prophetesses and the ancient tribal era, even recounting the time when the Mother of All Snakes still walked the world.

Sukob and his witch spirit apprentices soon left Fort Pence. As an Avel, he had already decided to stay away from this conflict, since none of it concerned him.

He was no savior, merely a believer in the divine beings.

In the Temple of Ten Thousand Serpents, the blind prophetess stood beneath the statue, gazing upward at the golden figure.

This statue had been crafted by the Avel people.

Long ago, the people of the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents took this statue. The act shattered the faith of two generations of Avel divine servants, Xiuborn and Yafuan.

Here, the grudges between the descendants of Pence and Avel both reached their peak and came to an end.

The Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents had destroyed Avel City, slaughtered the Avel people, enslaved them, and exiled them until they were barely seen again.

Xiuborn had killed the ancient King of Ten Thousand Serpents, massacred countless Royal Court soldiers, and came close to completely destroying Fort Pence.

Hundreds of years ago, the Avel people faced a crisis of faith. Their survival was impossible without divine protection.

Now, the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents faced a similar problem.

They had no divine protection and no divine guidance.

The blind prophetess faced the statue, her lips moving in a low murmur.

Listening to her whispers, one could not tell what she was saying or thinking.

“I cannot see!”

“I cannot see anything!”

“Because You are too distant!”

The blind prophetess saw nothing. She felt only an overwhelming void in her heart, as if all her faith and prayers had vanished into nothingness.

She could only reach out, raising her hand high.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, and the golden statue reflected its radiance. The prophetess’s hands happened to cup this light, and she felt its warmth.

She did not dare touch the statue, so she could only raise her hands in this way.

It felt as if she could sense the divine radiance through the lingering light.

“Creator of Life,” she whispered, her voice trembling with longing. “With all my heart, I wish to hear Your voice.”

“But… You are so far from us.”

Her expression was devout, yet filled with bewilderment.

“A divine being so majestic, beyond the reach of mortals.”

The prophetess now understood the legend of the witch, but she still did not know the name of the mysterious book or the divine being Sukob had mentioned.

From Sukob’s final hint, she began to grasp the meaning behind his words.

This world, the entire Ruhe Beast Island, was created by the Life Sovereign, the divine being who governs life itself.

She recalled an ancient legend.

According to legend, Fort Pence held an ancient passage that descended deep into the earth.

There stood the world’s oldest altar. Upon it rested a pearl resembling an eye. This altar was once in the City of Life, but the Life Sovereign had hidden it beneath the earth.

However, no one had managed to discover this place, even to this day.

In the wilderness

Sukob’s group left on more than a dozen sail beasts, with carts full of goods trailing behind them.

Centuries ago, it was said these sail beasts could not pull such large carriages. However, a secret technique passed down by a former captain of the Temple Knights strengthened the constitution of land dragons and beasts.

This technique allowed the sail beasts to grow both larger and stronger.

This was one advantage the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents held over both Suinhor and the White Tower Alchemy Alliance.

As a result, the beasts of burden and land dragons bred by the Royal Court were in high demand and highly valued.

To conserve the strength of the sail beasts, most of the group walked, chatting as they went. “I wonder how things are back on the wasteland,” one of them said.

The witch spirit apprentices had only just left Fort Pence, and they were still talking about the city. “No one would ever expect how many good things we bought this time!”

“Fort Pence is so prosperous,” someone said wistfully. “It has everything.”

“That’s because you haven’t been to the City of Fire Protection in Suinhor or White Tower City in the Land of Sunrise,” someone else countered, mentioning two even more prosperous cities as if they had seen them personally. “Now those places are truly prosperous.”

“Oh, have you been there?” the first person asked, striking a nerve.

“I heard about it from others,” he responded firmly.

As they talked, the conversation shifted to recent rumors.

This time, there was no laughter. Everyone grew much more serious.

“Have you heard?”

“I heard there’s another rebellion happening.”

“The Stone Demon tribe has rebelled. They say the entire eastern region is in chaos, and the land dragon cavalry has moved toward the central area.”

Although the people present lived on the wasteland and were marginal members of the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents, they were still nominally part of it.

It was said that several territories in the eastern part of the Royal Court had risen in rebellion.

After the Royal Court suffered its devastating defeat, several ancient tribes on the border territories immediately became restless.

These multiple tribes had endured years of oppression from the Royal Court. They were among the poorest regions, and their discontent had been steadily growing.

Winter was also approaching quickly.

As a result, they gathered their armies and began pillaging the central part of the Royal Court. Unlike the border regions, the central area was home to many residents who had adopted a semi-pastoral and semi-agricultural life.

Many, in fact, seemed to have turned away from herding entirely.

For many years, this area had been stable and peaceful, with no signs of such turmoil. However, the Royal Court’s inability to address the chaos promptly led to the complete collapse of a large swath of territory near the eastern border.

The witch spirit apprentices talked about the situation but did not seem overly concerned, believing their journey north would keep them far from the rebel forces.

Even if they did cross paths with the rebels, they were confident that no rebel troops could stand against a group of ability users.

As the caravan continued on its way, however, a sudden commotion arose in the distance.

“Look over there!” one shouted.

“What’s happening? It’s complete chaos!”

“Are they attacking people? Are they bandits?”

“Or could it be the rebelling tribes from the east?”

On their way, Sukob’s group encountered a band of emaciated yet vicious criminals.

Sukob gazed into the distance, where he could see that one group of people had just finished killing another.

These people spotted Sukob’s caravan from afar and began gathering to approach them.

The caravan, loaded with goods, resembled a merchant convoy. It was an irresistible target in their eyes, a tempting prize.

“Kill!” one of them shrieked.

“Rob… rob them all!”

“Kill them and take everything they have!”

They had not realized, however, that this was no ordinary merchant convoy but a group of ability users.

They rushed forward with a few desperate cries, only to be struck by several beams of divine technique light.

A few witch spirits killed the leaders wielding weapons, and the rest of the group scattered in fear.

“Ability users!”

“Divine techniques!”

“Run! Run away!”

One of the witch spirits captured a few of them, questioned them briefly, and then approached Sukob.

Sukob turned to him. “What did you find out?”

The witch spirit replied, “They are refugees from the southwest. They said they’re from Lance territory.”

Sukob frowned. “Lance territory? What happened there?”

This area was deep within the Royal Court, not far from Mooneclipse City. Situated in the warm south, it had always been a prosperous region.

Where could these refugees have come from?

The witch spirit’s answer was a single word. “Famine.”

“They say that during the famine, the lord of Lance territory continued to forcibly collect taxes. Some people rebelled. Although the lord suppressed the rebellion, he was seriously injured and eventually died.”

“The famine was never resolved, which led to complete chaos in the southwest.”

“Rebels are destroying everything, burning, killing, and looting. Faced with this chaos, the noble lords are too afraid to act. They close their gates and seal their castles, refusing to come out.”

“This group said they killed some nobles who were unable to hide in castles along the way. It seems the situation there is truly dire.”

“Thousands of people are fleeing toward the central part of the Royal Court. They are heading for Fort Pence, hoping to find supplies and food to survive.”

The witch spirit shook his head. “It’s complete chaos. Who knows what these nobles are even doing?”

Sukob remained silent, picturing Lance territory on a map in his mind. The area slowly turned red.

He could guess that it had become a living hell.

He gazed at the lifeless bodies scattered on the ground.

Farther down the road, even more lay motionless in the distance.

As they continued their journey, such scenes became more and more frequent.

These fleeing people were called refugees, but they could just as easily be called bandits. When pushed to their limits, people no longer concern themselves with etiquette, morality, or compassion.

Their thoughts were consumed only by the need to survive, at any cost.

They slaughtered and plundered until nothing was left.

Without order, people were no different from beasts.

These fleeing refugees continued to gather on the road, forming groups that robbed and slaughtered anyone who passed.

Wherever they went, nothing was left behind. Scenes of cannibalism were not uncommon.

This was not the first time this had happened.

The lords were very experienced, which was why they had the confidence to impose such heavy taxes.

In the central part of the Royal Court, the noble lords who once lived by herding had adopted the practices of Suinhor and the Land of Sunrise. They constructed castles, modeled after the great nobles of Fort Pence, and embraced what they called the life of superior people.

In situations like this, they quickly shut their gates, letting human tragedy unfold outside while they waited for the Royal Court’s army to suppress the rebellion. The central region was a place the Royal Court was determined to keep from falling into chaos.

Based on their experience, they believed that after some people died, the situation would improve. This would allow them to address the aftermath with a sense of justification.

The snake people on the Herdsman’s Plain were like crops. One batch would be cut down, only for another to grow in its place.

It seemed endless, and no cause for concern.

However, Sukob felt that this time, these noble lords would likely not survive the storm as they had in the past.

This situation was unlike anything that had happened before.

Sukob shook his head. “What the Dark Moon General said might be true,” he murmured. “This country has turned into a lifeless corpse.”

The caravan resumed its journey, passing numerous lifeless bodies scattered along the road.

They stopped briefly to bury them where they lay.

When they encountered bandits again, they released a divine technique as a warning. As a result, most bandits avoided trying to rob ability users.

The chaos along the way deeply unsettled the witch spirit students, who were venturing out of the wasteland for the first time.

Under Sukob’s leadership, the wasteland had transformed from a place of poverty into a small haven of stability and modest prosperity, though it was still far from flourishing.

A student asked Sukob, “Why do people kill each other?”

This was a profound question.

Sukob was regarded as a wise man, yet in times like these, he could only interpret what he saw and answer such questions based on his own understanding.

“There are many reasons,” Sukob began. “Conflicts arise between races, like those between the descendants of Avel and Pence.”

“They happen because of differences in faith. The Suinhor City-State Alliance and the Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents, for instance, have clashed over their beliefs.”

“They also happen because of conflicts of interest. The Thunderlake Kingdom and the Royal Court fought over resources and power.”

At this point, Sukob added something more.

“The King of Ten Thousand Serpents wanted to solve internal problems by plundering resources from the Thunderlake Kingdom through war, but he failed.”

Sukob’s student looked at the emaciated corpses being buried.

“Then what is this for?”

“They are of the same race and the same faith, and there is no significant interest at stake.”

Sukob said, “This is the most basic conflict of all.”

“It is about survival.”

Sukob’s student, with the innocence often found in the young, asked curiously, “Teacher Sukob, could there ever be a world where all races live together, freely worship different divine beings, and everyone survives?”

“Without killing, without war, and without famine?”

Sukob smiled. “I suppose only a divine being could establish such a world.”

“But would divine beings permit other divine beings to coexist within their realm?”

Sukob recalled the divine war he had once witnessed but chose not to voice one thought aloud: Even among divine beings, there is hatred and war.

The caravan continued forward, leaving this chaotic place far behind.

Sukob turned his gaze back.

What met his eyes were towering piles of corpses and an endless expanse of flames.

The Royal Court of Ten Thousand Serpents had suffered a devastating defeat against the Thunderlake Kingdom, and the adverse effects were only just beginning.

The Dark Moon General’s seizure of power would not lead to a resurgence. Instead, it would plunge the situation into even greater chaos.

Sukob raised his head.

He vaguely saw the shadows of divine beings in the sky.

One after another, majestic figures appeared, looking down upon this world from on high.

A mountain in the wasteland, with a small town at its foot

The mountain had been hollowed out, with a complex dark underground palace built inside.

The families of the witch spirits lived in the small town, while the witch spirits themselves resided in the dark underground palace. Since their experiments were often dangerous, the palace was equipped with strict measures to contain any potential hazards.

Inside the underground palace, witch spirits devoted to the God of Knowledge and Truth performed an elaborate and intricate ritual.

Sukob stood at the center of the ritual formation as he began to activate it. He was in the process of breaking through to the fourth rank, ascending to the level of an apostle witch spirit.

Light followed the intricate patterns, spiraling endlessly in a graceful motion.

Sukob watched the ritual formation communicate with the Dream Realm, forming a powerful spiritual pressure.

The other witch spirits could not help but hold their breath, some even feeling the urge to step back.

The other witch spirits present acted primarily as assistants and witnesses. The most critical part of breaking through a realm relied on this costly, intricate, and expansive ritual formation.

Sukob raised his voice with conviction.

“Sovereign Divine Being who governs the Dream Realm!”

“I humbly ask You!”

“Grant me the privilege to borrow Your power!”

Under the immense pressure, Sukob’s Book of the Witch Spirit began to surface.

The book opened, and the Page of Truth turned.

A sacred hall appeared, seeming poised to leave the book at any moment and manifest in this world.

The page glowed with the light of incantations as several mysterious symbols of law emerged from the hall, drifting gracefully into the air.

Sukob’s body dissolved, revealing a glowing orb within, the essence of his mythical blood.

The mythical blood in his body transformed into luminescence, flowing out continuously toward the Book of the Witch Spirit.

Divine blood, spirit, imprint.

The three elements of wisdom ability forcibly merged into one under the pressure of the ritual formation.

The God’s Grace Stone appeared.

The God’s Grace Stone melted, transforming the Book of the Witch Spirit into a mythical organ belonging to him.

Sukob felt himself fully immersed within his Book of the Witch Spirit. His presence in the outside world faded as he came to exist entirely within the confines of his own book.

This was a completely blank world, an information world waiting to be filled.

Sukob stood in the world of his own book, gazing at the blank and empty expanse with a sense of bewilderment.

He was the first apostle witch spirit and had never known what the apostle realm of a witch spirit would be like.

Rumble~

Suddenly, he saw a strange river rush in from the distance.

It was his memory.

The memory unfolded like a river, carrying countless images, flowing with endless words, and accompanied by a symphony of sounds.

In the end, everything faded away.

All of it came together to shape his being.

His essence.

He emerged from the Book of the Witch Spirit, his body merging with the physical world as he returned to reality.

Sukob felt a profound transformation in his power. Previously, he could channel divine techniques and the Page of Truth using the records in his Book of the Witch Spirit.

Now, he could create and project an entire world from the pages of his book.

But at the moment, his book remained empty.

Sukob pondered deeply.

“An empty book,” he murmured to himself. “Does this mean I must decide for myself?”

“How should I compile my Book of the Witch Spirit?”

At that moment, the dome of the great hall in the underground palace displayed a painting of the realm of the God of Knowledge and Truth. The sea within the painting began to surge, its waves coming alive with motion.

Beams of light fell from above, shining down upon Sukob.

From the heart of the painted city, countless ethereal and translucent shadows stirred. Their voices traveled through the void, carrying whispers that bridged the gap to the real world.

Sacred chanting filled the air, resonating through the underground palace.

“God who holds Truth, Ruler of Books and Knowledge, Eternal Cycling Asai.”

“Divine being seated in the hall of spirits, great existence who listens to prayers and wishes.”

“I crave Your response, I pray You give me guidance.”

“God, please listen…”

A multitude of voices intertwined, offering praise to the divine being and reciting various prayers.

As the incantations and praises echoed, a profound and overwhelming will descended upon the place, its majesty beyond words.

All the witch spirits were overwhelmed by the immense pressure. They could not lift their heads and felt their entire bodies trembling from the sheer force of the power.

The Book of the Witch Spirit within each of them emerged, restlessly turning its pages.

Everyone understood that the divine being was observing this place, watching Sukob as he ascended to the rank of apostle.

Everyone prostrated on the ground, not daring to look up, while Sukob floated into the sky.

Within the light, Sukob’s appearance gradually transformed as he took on God’s Form.

He became much younger.

He was still not quite used to walking on two legs, but fortunately, a force kept him suspended, propelling him forward.

He stepped into the painted dome, slowly immersing himself in the sacred realm and the grand city hidden deep beneath the sea.

The majestic voice continued to resonate in his ears.

“God who holds Truth, Ruler of Books and Knowledge, Eternal Cycling Asai.”

Guided by the light, he arrived in the City of Knowledge and looked up at the Door of Truth.

The Door of Truth opened, revealing a figure of light within.

This time, the God of Knowledge and Truth had chosen to meet him in person, a rare occurrence.

The figure of light gazed at him with an air of majesty.

Sukob knelt low, performing the ritual of reverence. “God of Knowledge and Truth,” he said with deep humility.

“Your servant Sukob expresses the highest respect to You, ready at any moment to listen to Your will.”

The God of Knowledge and Truth spoke. “Sukob, you no longer need to call yourself a servant. From now on, you are more than that.”

“You are my apostle, the apostle who pursues knowledge and truth.”

Sukob did not refuse, accustomed to submitting to the will of the divine being.

“God,” Sukob said with reverence, “Your apostle Sukob humbly reports to You.”

Sukob kept his head lowered, knowing that when a divine being summoned him, there must be a new directive.

He carefully awaited his next mission, his next divine oracle.

But this time, his divine being did not issue a directive.

Instead, he posed a question.

A question that shocked Sukob to his core, leaving him dumbfounded on the spot.

The divine being said.

“Sukob, if you could become a divine being, what kind of divine being would you wish to become?”

Sukob’s mind went blank. He remained motionless, stunned. Had he misheard? Had the divine being spoken in error?

But even having such thoughts felt like an act of irreverence.

With a trembling voice, he could only respond with caution.

“God!” Sukob exclaimed. “I do not understand. What is Your will?”

Sukob had received the divine being’s directives in the past and had learned of certain matters. However, he had never considered this perspective before, nor had he ever dared to entertain such thoughts.

But now, the divine being was proving to him that all of this was real.

The God of Knowledge and Truth, Asai, continued, “I have told you this before. Becoming an apostle is not the final step.”

“When you become apostles, I will choose my subordinate divine beings from among you.”

Asai inclined his head slightly, and behind the light that obscured his form, his eyes lifted with a faint smile.

“Do you not pray to me without ceasing, sending your pleas again and again, hoping I will answer and that the divine will shape the realm you long for?”

“Sukob… if, one day, you could be the one to answer, what would you do?”

“The choice is yours,” Asai said, pausing as his gaze seemed to reach into Sukob’s very soul.

“What kind of divine being do you wish to become?”

Sukob could not utter a word, kneeling stupidly on the ground.

He dared not answer. Even though not answering was an offense in itself, he still dared not speak.

Asai spoke again, his voice calm and steady.

“Sukob, it seems you are not yet ready to embrace the future.”

The divine being raised a hand, and the light faded away. Sukob felt himself descending from the sky.

Everything settled. The dome’s painting no longer rippled.

Sukob returned to the underground palace.

He stood with his head raised, completely still, as if frozen in place like a wax statue.

After a long while, he finally moved.

He paid no attention to the others, ignoring everyone’s cheers, and walked out of the underground palace in a daze.

Outside, it was an unremarkable afternoon.

There were no strange occurrences or rain. The sky was not especially clear, carrying a faint gloom.

Yet, on this seemingly ordinary afternoon, Sukob, who saw himself as nothing more than a simple and unassuming man, found himself pondering a question that most mortals would never dare to consider.

“Me… become a divine being?”

“Someone like me?”

“Is that even possible for me?”

Before this moment, he had always looked upward, his eyes fixed on the hall of the divine beings. He believed that was where his journey would end.

He was devoted to the divine beings. He did not need to question or ponder. He simply followed their will and guidance.

Now, Sukob looked down from the mountain, gazing back at the mortal world.

In his ears, the divine being’s words echoed once more.

“Sukob… if, one day, you could be the one to answer, what would you do?”

“What kind of divine being do you wish to become?”

As mortals, they had always longed for and prayed that the divine would grant them all they desired, that it would bestow upon them every beauty and every joy.

If, one day, he could become a divine being…

What would he do?

What could he do?

What did he want to do?