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Laine’s power had increased, and although he had spent those years in the Underworld, with the implementation of the ‘Chronology’ and the rotation of the ‘Moon’, he had reached Divine Power Level 9, nearing the peak of Weak Divine Power.

Among his many godhoods, it was ‘Chronology’ that had undergone the most drastic change; it was now powerful enough to support him reaching Divine Power Level 12. Iapetus, one of the twelve Titans, was even weaker than him—after all, mere ‘Speech’ was too insignificant.

But Laine did not care because he knew that soon he would have a real foothold in the Chaos World.

According to the ‘Prophecy’ godhood’s sensing, it might even be today.

······

Mount Othrys.

Three hundred years had passed since the Divine King had imprisoned his offspring.

At first, Uranus, who committed the atrocity, was somewhat worried; he was not certain his scheme was indeed effective.

He checked on the Titans intermittently and even cut open Gaia’s belly again. But the eventual outcome reassured him, the prophecy indeed had been thwarted.

His children were behaving inside, and there were no major disturbances spotted in the laws corresponding to their godhoods. Except for Mother Earth weakening day by day, nothing unforeseen happened.

Uranus finally put his mind at ease, proving to himself that destiny could be stopped by power.

From then on, he no longer worried about it. He had once sought out Laine’s trail, for he had defeated the prophecy, and the god of prophecy was no longer fearsome. He planned to vent the anxiety he had developed over this, to show ‘The Foreseer’ that nothing is absolute in the face of true power.

But to Uranus’s disappointment, he searched the earth and seas, he wielded the authority of the sky to scour the world, but still could not find a trace of Laine.

‘Perhaps he has taken refuge in the Land of Eternal Night, or some other place.’

‘At least in the matter of fleeing, ‘The Foreseer’ is quite capable.’

In the end, the Divine King who had come up empty gave up his search. Not wanting to provoke other Primordial Gods and having nothing else to do, he could only spend his days by the side of his Queen of Gods, releasing his desires incessantly.

On this day, as usual, the sky dipped slightly to touch the summit of Mount Othrys.

Heaven and earth conjoined due to the personified actions of their embodiments; this was not the first time. But now in the silent Chaos, there were no onlookers.

“It’s time,” Themis said.

Unlike her siblings, the goddess of justice and law had been silent all along.

She was not close to her kind, and her power was not great, because in the Chaos of that time, no one cared about justice or law. The Divine King wielded his power at will, and the weaker Themis could only watch in silence.

For this reason, she had blindfolded herself. Contrary to later mythological interpretations, at this moment, she simply did not want to see all this disorder.

But now, as the Divine King was about to be overthrown, she was the first to cheer on her younger brother.

“Yes, it’s time,” Rhea also spoke up.

Perhaps it was their similar godhoods; the Goddess of the passage of time had always been close to her youngest brother. As a goddess, she was not suited for the role of ‘eldest son’, so instead of envying her brother, she felt proud of his bravery.

“You are right.”

“It is time.”

Cronus lifted his head.

He reached out and plucked the sickle mentioned in the prophecy from his mother’s flesh. It wasn’t elaborate, even somewhat crude. The flint blade radiated a shine, with plant vines wound around the handle. Cronus grasped it, feeling boundless pain and despair.

It was the anguish Gaia had endured while nurturing this sickle; only the Titans who had suffered alongside her could hold it.

As heaven and earth intersected within Gaia’s belly, Cronus could clearly see the scene. His hand clasping the sickle’s handle trembled, with both fear and excitement.

Even now, the fear Uranus had instilled in him for a millennium still lingered. He feared his father as anyone would fear pain. But still, he mustered the courage, because ahead lay the throne of the Divine King.

‘I will succeed,’ he thought.

Grasping the handle tightly, he swung down; an era thus came to an end.

······

Underworld.

He was not standing on the ground, but suspended in the sky. Under the influence of divine power, Laine looked down at the land below.

“It’s about to begin.”

Glancing upward at the space above the Underworld, Laine seemed to see through the strata to witness a scene destined to be recorded in history.

He didn’t go up to watch, not only because it was a war between the Heavenly Father and the Titans, but also because he had more important matters to attend to.

“I have to start now as well.”

Laine was somewhat excited, knowing himself that he was about to commit an act surely forbidden by Chaos.

But at this special moment, no one could stop him.

Quietly, Laine watched ahead. At some unknown time, the Moon, which used to hang upon the ground, had vanished. Its creator, its very origin, had taken it down, passing through the layers of earth to a strange place.

Now, the silvery white celestial body hung above the Underworld.

Soft yet bright light illuminated the Underworld, which hadn’t seen sunlight for millennia, and the power inherent to the Nether Moon began to converge upon the Moon. This was not only because a Nether Moon rightly belonged here, but also due to the oath of the future Divine King.

But Laine knew full well that once the true Nether Moon was born, Chaos would reclaim its authority, as this was the typical ruse of the world consciousness.

It had no subjective consciousness, only instincts. Accordingly, it never cared to whom something should belong; it acted solely on its own set of rules.

“However, from now on, such things will never happen again.”

With a slight smile, Laine reached out to straighten his silver-white robes. On this significant day, he still wanted a sense of ceremony.

He held the Oracle Stone Tablet in his hand and hung the Vessel of Life on his waist. Surrounded by the essence of space-time, Laine walked toward the Moon.

Without seemingly touching anything, the master of the Moon thus entered its interior. Unlike the external brilliance, it was pitch black inside at the moment. Chaotic chronology, bound by the orders of the Divine King, wandered here. The past and future were uncertain; the duration of time was without measure. It more closely resembled the dawn of creation, when everything was in turmoil.

In the face of this scene, Laine lifted the intertwined silver-gold essence of space-time. He scattered it, merging it into the space.

The original essence dissipated, commingling with the chaotic chronology of this place. However, having lost its original consolidated form, it was escaping at a rate thousands of times faster. If nothing unexpected occurred, in at most three months, maybe two, Cronus would reclaim this essence instinctively, and by then, Laine would not be able to accuse him of violating his oath.

But now, these essences wouldn’t last even a day.

The essence of Spirituality, hidden for an age, surged from Laine for the first time, enveloping the Moon and its creation. Using this as a medium, chronology, prophecy, the Nether Moon, and even the powers absorbed by the Moon in its course—like light, celestial bodies, changes, and even the concepts of death and desolation that had just begun to coalesce in the Underworld—all converged with Spirituality at this moment.

They mingled together, furiously torn asunder by Spirituality, morphing into an indescribable chaos of color, like an absolute darkness, a void of all things.

Only Laine stood here; he was the sole existence in this place.

“I’ve finally waited for this day.”

Laine felt a tinge of emotion, sensing that the will of the world was now fixed upon him. Without a doubt, his act of allowing Spirituality to devour other essences had enraged the world. Chaos didn’t care whether these essences belonged to it; it only cared that things once under its control were trying to break free.

Thus, it sent out a summoning through the void, and all the existing deities received this special message, similar to the call of the Law during a god’s birth.

All gods knew that within the depths of the Underworld, under the earth, a god who held the essence of Spirituality had defied the will of the world. Those who stopped him would be rewarded, while those who aided him would be punished by the world.

But as Laine had calculated, time passed second by second, and nothing happened.

In the center of the Moon, within the dark chaotic void, Laine’s divine body began to disintegrate of its own accord, becoming one with the matter and environment.

At this moment, in the Moon, the earth was a void of chaos; the abyss above was shrouded in darkness; and Laine’s spirit moved upon the surface of the water.

Amid this emptiness, a voice broke the silence. This was the primordial one, from which all things were born.

“Let there be light!” he said.

And at that moment, there was light in the dark void.

He saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness.

He called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” There was evening, and there was morning—the first day.