Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

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"Not bad, it's a great place."

The materials were ready, and all the necessary preparations were complete.

Like a chair molded from gold floating in the air, it surrounded the temple and was bathed in the residual aura of the Sun God Power. Hephaestus was quite satisfied with the environment here.

Not to mention his temples in Olympus, even the volcanic crater on the Island of Lemnos couldn't hold a candle to this place, which was undoubtedly good news for the God of Craftsmanship.

After all, when forging a Divine Artifact, as long as the materials were in place, he was confident.

But to forge a human imbued with the Power of Styx into either a Divine Artifact or a human puppet: that was something he had never done.

Even for Hephaestus, this was a massive challenge.

With the slightest mistake, failure was a real possibility.

"Come on, let's begin... I'll give you this net as a keepsake."

"How is it? My craftsmanship isn't too bad, right?"

Not reclaiming the Golden Net, after all, it was already given away as part of an exchange.

Hephaestus showed no hostility, instead flashing a smile at Achilles.

"I heard that Her Highness Hecate of Silver Moon City is the source of sorcery and that the earliest alchemy was created there by someone named Hermes."

"In your impression, how does my craft compare to alchemy and sorcery?"

"Naturally, far inferior."

"The Goddess of the Magic Net didn't consider herself the pinnacle of sorcery, and the ultimate in alchemy is even more elusive."

"If you want to compare with them, you might be overthinking it."

Speaking lightly, Achilles, though unaware of the God of Craftsmanship's true skills, still felt his counterpart was thinking too much.

Not to mention anything else, just the stone chest sealing the divine sword Levatine was something his counterpart couldn't achieve.

"Is that so... perhaps."

"If I have the chance, I'll go see it for myself."

Nodding slightly, Hephaestus wasn't particularly angry.

After all, Achilles was about to be a dead man, and alchemy hadn't achieved any truly great accomplishments yet.

With that, the conversation ended, and the God of Craftsmanship waited silently in the temple.

The moments of the world ticked by, and shadows outside the temple began to shift.

As the sun reached noon, Hephaestus's expression grew stern.

He lifted his right hand slightly, and an invisible force swirled in his palm.

Since the sun had been sealed into the starry sky, the sun running above had become three rotating and repeating suns, representing morning, noon, and dusk, respectively.

At that moment, the Temple of the Sun itself replaced the 'noon' patrolling the sky, while the unused 'sunrise' and 'dusk' emitted their own powers.

Three distinct and different kinds of flames then floated from Hephaestus's hand, collectively forming a vast furnace enveloping Achilles.

The power of the 'sunrise' augmented the 'Thunder Fire,' bringing vitality to the destructive thunderbolt; 'dusk' augmented the Earth Fire, making the flames of the molten lava from the earth's core more substantial.

Meanwhile, the stove fire had no 'sun' to connect with, and it had to spontaneously attract the emotions lingering in the Temple of the Sun.

It transformed the worldly creatures' yearning for the sun into fuel, forging the hero within the furnace.

For a moment, the three flames seemed to reach a certain concurrence under the Sun's Power from the same source.

The space within the furnace seemed distorted beyond recognition, making it impossible to see what lay inside.

But in the next instant, Hephaestus felt a wave of cold seeping out from the furnace, chilling him to the core.

"Styx... what a pity."

"If Styx didn't so reject the divine nature, I would have truly liked to use its water to quench the fire."

His expression changed slightly, only to relax again.

Through the flames comprising the furnace, Hephaestus looked toward the figure inside.

To begin the smelting, the first step was to weaken the opponent's Styx power. Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

"You really don't have to make such pointless resistance. After all, this isn't the Underworld."

"Even if Styx's power is strong, it can't be endless. Your persistence brings you nothing but pain and has no other meaning."

If he could shake the will of this mortal, perhaps he could make things a bit easier for himself.

Yet even though no sound came from the furnace, the power of Styx didn't wane.

Hephaestus realized he was doing something futile; his opponent clearly wouldn't give up so easily.

"Have it your way, it'll just cost a little more time."

"Since you chose this yourself, just make sure you don't regret it."

Observing the situation for a while and confirming there would be no changes in the short term.

Hephaestus then leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes to rest.

This was the first stage of smithing, and there wasn't much technicality involved, just a simple clash of strength.

He didn't expect to entirely erode away the power of Styx, but at least he needed to suppress it first.

And this step indeed required enough time.

...

Sizzle—

The flames burned, the three different hues covering everything.

Inside the furnace now, compared to before, everything around Achilles had already changed dramatically.

The Golden Net that bound him had been removed and placed in the flames beside him.

Three different flaming halos surrounded the hero, constantly clashing with the eerie blue aura.

It was the power of Styx that was mutually wearing them down, and just as Hephaestus said, Achilles indeed gradually felt some pain.

Yet such level of pain was obviously not worth mentioning. Sitting in the center of the furnace, Achilles waved his arm, and the previously flickering stone chest appeared before him.

"The sun... seems even more powerful compared to the Divine King's Thunder."

Just as Hephaestus didn't regard him, Achilles didn't truly care about the God of Craftsmanship either.

The flames around burned fiercely, but were it not for his hopes pinned on the so-called 'refinement' from the other party, the young hero would have long since drawn his sword and cleaved the Divine Fire before him.

Even now, he could feel the restlessness of the stone chest.

The slumbering Divine Artifact craved perfection, but Achilles held such impulses at bay, as now wasn't the time.

The God of Craftsmanship of Olympus, he should have some skills, right?

Achilles didn't know, but he was willing to try.

So amidst the endless flames, time flowed slowly.

On the first day, nothing happened.

Even though he consciously restrained the Styx power within, Achilles couldn't actively control it.

It merely protected its host passively, rather than becoming part of his strength.

In times of threat, it served as an unbreakable shield.

But evidently, the young hero couldn't actively control this shield capable of opposing divine power.

On the third day, the flames still persisted.

Inside the furnace, Achilles remained unchanged.

The young hero didn't know if the Goddess of the Underworld noticed what had happened here or what her plans were.

But at least so far, the power within him hadn't diminished, steadfastly resisting the divine flames.

On the seventh day, finally, a change occurred.

Some unfamiliar materials were cast into the furnace from the outside, landing beside Achilles.

In an instant, they were easily reduced to ashes by the flames and then absorbed into his chest as dust.

Achilles felt his blood coursing faster, seemingly growing stronger, and perhaps more acute.

"These are supplements for you, to strengthen your body, as you should have already felt."

"They're a formula tailored specifically to your constitution; it would be deadly poison to any other creature."

"But in your case, it could instead unlock deeper potential."

Hephaestus's voice came from outside, his tone unchanged from before.

Strengthening this human body was also part of his crafting plan.

"Heh, then continue."

Accepting everything, Achilles took it in stride.

On the fourteenth day, having gradually grown used to the daily falling dust, Achilles noticed something new again.

This time, the materials that fell into the furnace resembled some sort of oily liquid.

As it hit his body, the young hero felt as if he had regained some sense of 'life.'

The power of Styx seemed to truly recede—not recede, but more deeply integrated with him.

But on the surface, it manifested as the diminishing of the cold barring the divine fire, and some warmth approached him.

"Bring it on."

Unchanging in expression, the young hero knew the God of Craftsmanship's intention.

The power of Styx might resist external forces, but by applying pressure through divine fire outside and using such special materials, he could gradually merge with the power of Styx.

At that time, he might remain 'undying,' perhaps even harder to hurt than before, yet possibly also exposing unknown vulnerabilities.

"Hephaestus... seems he does have some skills."

"But if this is all there is, then it's probably far from enough."

Vaguely expectant, Achilles awaited amidst the flames.

It was a danger and an opportunity.

To conquer death, every ounce of strength was necessary accumulation for him.

...

Clang—

Clang—

Clang—

...

The bells tolled, another day passed on Mount Olympus.

Since Hephaestus went to the Temple of the Sun, forty-eight days had gone by in the blink of an eye.

In the days prior, even asking each day, the War God only received the answer of "quiet waiting".

That arrogant mortal had remained unmoved under the Divine Fire, showing no signs of being refined.

Until days passed, Ares had at one point considered advising Aphrodite to give up. However, by the evening today, he finally received good news.

Regarding the crafting of that mortal, the God of Craftsmanship had made groundbreaking progress.

At this pace, he wouldn't take long to succeed.

"Aph, you've received the news too, right?"

In good spirits, the War God knocked on the doors of the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty.

Due to previous errors, Aphrodite hadn't paid attention to him for quite a while.

Fortunately, the news today finally showed improvement; even without the Mother Goddess's help, that damned mortal couldn't hold out any longer.

"Of course, I know, because if I counted on you, I probably wouldn't achieve anything."

Giving him a sidelong glance, Aphrodite immediately discerned Ares's intention.

Recently, she had slightly ignored him, though this nominal husband was a bit incompetent, he did have some utility in the end.

The Goddess of Beauty knew that scolding him wasn't an issue but she still had to make him feel somewhat accomplished.

Like gambling among mortals; losing money was fine, but you couldn't always be losing.

Let the first person win, then draw in the observers to step up to your gambling table, and have the subsequent followers lose a round.

When they lamented, offer them another chance to win, securing those who remained contentedly, while regretting those who left.

Thus, through this back-and-forth tug-of-war, she controlled victory and defeat, ensuring participants would never leave the game.

The mortal's gambling was indeed like that, and dealing with gods like Ares was no different.

"I'm tired."

Speaking flatly, Aphrodite turned to walk into the temple.

Seemingly unwilling to converse, yet she hadn't evicted him from the temple.

Seeing this, Ares's eyes brightened, quickly following her.

"Aph, wait for me."

As night deepened, the moon hung high.

The fires of the Temple of the Sun were still burning, the temples of the gods eternally aflame.

The divine mountain often blurred day and night; today was no different.

This night would be long, very long.

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