Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

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On this day, the night was deep.

The moon moved across the sky, two silhouettes hung upon the annual wheel.

The Mortal Realm had already entered winter, but on the Mount of the Gods, it was still full of the spirit of spring.

As a peak transformed from the divine body of the Ancient Mountain God Ourea, Olympus was both a non-living thing and could also be considered a different kind of "living thing." Read exclusive adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

Therefore, it could self-repair after being damaged and would extend the length of its branches when there was an abundance of Strength.

In this circumstance, the positions of different temples shifted slightly, and the Temple of the Sun God was the most obvious example among them.

When its owner betrayed the Divine Court and the new God of Sun only used it as a garage for the chariot, this temple, which lost its deity, slowly drifted away from the main peak with the autonomous movement of the mountain range.

Its location was closer to the southern part of the entire Olympus Mountain Range, standing in the highest place and bearing the eternal recurrence of the scorching sun.

Sizzle...

Inside the temple, compared to a few dozen days ago, this place had greatly changed in appearance.

Three indistinct orbs of Light floated in the air, like three pillars surrounding all directions.

In their center, a gigantic furnace burned silently.

Around the furnace, dozens of beings indistinguishable from humans in appearance, yet devoid of life, continuously cast some items into it for casting.

As for Hephaestus, he was sitting on a suspended golden throne, scrutinizing the flickering orbs of Light in the air.

These were the fragments of the Sun. Without them, the world would have long lost its sunlight due to Helios's downfall.

And even though this was merely a fragment, the authority it represented was by no means weaker than Hephaestus's godhood as the God of Volcanoes and Molten Lava.

If the God of Sun was a natural aristocrat, then Hephaestus was like the God of West Wind, Zephyrus, whose godhood was not inherently powerful.

If not for his talent as a craftsman, he might not have been invited back to Olympus by Zeus, let alone claimed the position of Principal God through Faith.

"...It's a pity that I can't contain it at all. Apollo only wielded it with the help of a Divine Artifact."

"Previously, I thought it was just because Divine King wouldn't allow it, but I never expected it to be like this..."

Turning the chair, Hephaestus circled the orb of Light symbolizing the "Noon Sun."

Vaguely, a kind of madness and Chaos emanated from within, making him halt his approach instinctively.

"The Source Power of the Sun, the core of the godhood... what kind of Strength could shatter the authority of a deity?"

"Was it the legendary previous generation's Divine King, or perhaps, did Zeus do this?"

Looking at the orb of Light before him, Hephaestus couldn't help but chuckle at the mortal's arrogance in the furnace.

The Ancient Sun God, once the ruler of the starry sky for millennia, a Titan, now faced such a miserable fate.

Even the godhood authority bestowed upon him by the present world was shattered by unknown means, turning into scattered stars upon the Earth.

In this world, who dared to claim themselves invincible, and who could continually taste victory without defeat?

Three epochs passed, and there was never such an existence.

Those weak in Strength survived, while those too confident in their might eventually perished because of it.

"Heh, what does this have to do with me?"

"Midnight will pass. Today is the forty-ninth day."

"It won't be long before his body fully merges with the power of the Styx River, reaching the pinnacle of Strength. Yet, at this moment, he will be at his strongest in life but also his weakest, as his soul will be exposed."

"Everything I have done hasn't harmed him. Instead, it has made him whole, so the power of Styx did not stop this process."

"But as soon as his body merges with this power, it will also be the moment when I extract his soul."

"Without a soul, even the mightiest immortal body is nothing but a dead thing. It will merely turn into nourishment for a new Divine Artifact, unable to hinder my refining any longer..."

Diverting attention from the orb of Light, Hephaestus silently awaited the arrival of midnight.

The casting of the Divine Artifact would not be so swift; separating the body from the soul was only the first step, though it was the most crucial step.

Legend says seven is the sacred number belonging to Spirituality; he chose to complete this step on the full moon of the forty-ninth day for somewhat similar reasons.

"Hmm, time to place the final materials."

As time flowed silently, at some moment, Hephaestus opened his hand and cast the Divine Blood into the furnace.

The flames roared, yet there was no life inside.

This mortal initially exchanged a few words with him from time to time, but recently, perhaps aware that his end was near, he became silent.

However, whether he spoke or not made no difference; covering the furnace, Hephaestus's mind was tense.

His chance lay just ahead, with only one opportunity.

...

Sizzle...

The flames burned, inside the furnace, above Achilles's head, the Divine Blood dripped into the furnace and instantly turned to vapor.

His eyes flickered slightly; the aura of the Divine Blood was so distinct.

There was no need for judgment; Achilles recognized its owner immediately.

Ares, it could be no other.

The Divine Blood began to encircle the young hero, lending its strength for the final transformation.

"Hoo—"

The killing intent flickered in his eyes, and Achilles exhaled deeply.

As time passed day by day, an unprecedented sense of Strength began to spread throughout his body.

Though lacking divine power, a giant-like might akin to that of the Titans gradually began to brew and spread within the muscles and veins of the young hero.

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