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“Only you are the exception, reverend Master of The Thousand Thunders, King of All Gods.”

“Only you understand our prayers, there is little in this world you cannot grant. You have not set limits to the rewards, but you have given us hope to achieve all.”

With hope and praise, just as in every time past, Ossen began to chant aloud the poems that depicted the Divine King.

Now, he should demonstrate his worth to the Divine King.

“Zeus, o mighty deity of great honor, immortal Zeus!

I pray to you, offering proof of recompense!

Supreme monarch, through your head reveal the sacred:

The Mother Goddess of the earth, the roaring mountain shores, the ocean and the stars arrayed across the sky.

Great Zeus, son of Cronus, he who holds the lightning, sovereign of all ages!

You are the origin of all, the beginning and the end of everything!

O shaker of the world, the beginning of growth and purification!

Wielder of lightning, thunder, and The Thousand Thunders, King of All Gods!

Great Father God Zeus, please hear me:

Your most faithful servant implores you, please grant me eternal life, a noble status, and a might worthy to serve before you!”

As the poem trailed off, Ossen felt, as before, the gaze of the deity descend upon him.

Lately, due to the frequent sacrifices, the gods often neglected the offerings of mortals. But this call in the dead of night caught the attention of the Divine King.

After all, this was the first midnight sacrifice, and he intended to listen, to hear what this mortal dared ask for—immortality, status, and power—and by what right.

Feeling the Divine King’s gaze, Ossen prostrated himself on the ground. His heart pounded fiercely, but he appeared devout and fervent.

He began to recount, to tell of his reverence for the gods, the position of the creator among humans, and how Prometheus had conspired to deceive the deities.

At first, he did not wish to collude with such a scheme, but the creator’s vast renown among humans and the glaring disparity in their power made it inevitable. It wasn’t until today, when the despicable son of Iapetus finally offended the Goddess of Law with his arrogant actions, that he at last had the chance to relay the whole story to the Divine King.

In the end, kneeling on the ground, Ossen spoke aloud:

“Supreme King of All Gods, as you have promised:

There is little in this world you cannot grant me. The secret I bring shows my devotedness to you, please grant me immortality as promised.”

Ossen was full of confidence, for it had always been so.

The deities were far on Olympus, unable to discern one person’s devotion. Since they measured faith through sacrifices, then the secret he offered was the most solemn sacrifice in this world.

The faint light streaming through the sky-window shone on the figure of Ossen prostrated on the ground and also revealed Zeus standing behind him.

Someone prayed to him, and he listened; they yearned for his presence, and he appeared. The Divine King manifested his power in the mortal world, the Law roared towards him, but none of this could overshadow the fury in Zeus’s heart at this moment.

He was expressionless, slowly surveying his surroundings. The resplendent temple appeared solemn and dignified, but at this moment, it seemed somewhat ironic, as everything was but a façade for deceit.

Finally, Zeus looked down at Ossen kneeling before him. Regardless, as the King of All Gods, he indeed should be clear in reward and punishment.

He knew that this man was not loyal, but he still had some utility. The King of All Gods silently resolved that as long as this mortal held a shred of faith in him, he would bestow eternal life upon him and use his existence to proclaim the Divine King’s mercy and fame among future humans.

But after sensing for a while, the outcome was surprisingly contrary to expectation. Up to this point, the High Priest kneeling on the ground hadn’t perceived anything that had transpired. He waited, full of anticipation, for the deity’s blessing, but the Divine King, no matter how hard he looked, couldn’t see a trace of faith in him.

All he could see was this contemptible mortal’s belief in himself.

“…”

“Devotion…”

“Ha, I understand now. It seems I was wrong, we were all wrong—this is what faith truly is.”

With a sneer, as thunder cracked, Ossen, oblivious to it all, was reduced to cinders. An invisible force acted upon his body, which would now perpetually maintain its current state, prostrated at the center of The Temple.

The gaze pierced through walls, watching the human cities prospering under the blessings of the deities, and the Divine King’s rage surged even more. He wanted to destroy these pitiful lives, even though the vast majority knew nothing of it. Lightning gathered in the sky as if it would strike down any moment, but then he restrained himself.

Not only because Zeus had regained a trace of sensibility but also because he had a better idea.

Humans could be obliterated at any time, but the chance to deal with Prometheus might only come once. If there were a next generation of humans, he did not want to see this Forethinker who enjoyed being among them. His very existence was the greatest obstacle and competitor for the gods to gain faith.

So Zeus would give him an opportunity to further his defiance of the Divine Court, if he truly loved the humans he created as much as he proclaimed.

Therefore, the Divine King no longer resisted the suppression of the Laws of the present, his avatar sent through the void perished instantly, even affecting his true form. But at the same time, with a thunderclap, the decree of the Divine King took effect.

At that moment, the voice resonated, centered in The Temple, centered on the Mount of the Gods, in the ears of all people and gods. Whether asleep, awake, on the ground, or in The Sky, they all heard Zeus’s indifferent voice in the thunder, all the causes and consequences, along with the Divine King’s brief judgment:

“From this day forward—”

“Withdraw the ‘fire’ granted to humanity.”