In the distance, the giant Sun God statue once controlled by Zeus finally couldn't hold on and collapsed with a loud crash. Its massive body crashed into the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust, then was slowly swallowed by the rolling earth, eventually disappearing completely beneath the ground. Such war weapons, that can be or have been animated, certainly cannot remain.
The entire city seemed to undergo a slow closure, burying all death, violence, and hatred deep in the darkness—Ian retrieved his Magic Wand and exhaled softly.
At the same time.
In this desolation, some survivors began to cautiously peek out. They were civilians secretly sheltered by Ian, hidden by his magic during the divine punishment. Now, they crawled trembling out of the ruins, and their eyes looking at Ian were filled with a mix of fear, awe, and... worship.
"S-sir..." an elderly man, his face gray with dust, kneeled tremblingly, speaking to Ian with eager anticipation, "You saved us... Are you the new Deity?"
This is how people of this era are.
Excessive dependence on faith in the Gods to seek shelter.
"Deity?" Ian raised an eyebrow, then laughed, "No, I'm just a passer-by."
But these people clearly didn't believe him. In their eyes, whoever could protect them from Zeus's wrath, wasn't that a Deity? Soon more people gathered around. Someone whispered prayers, others reached out trying to touch the hem of his garment, as if such contact would grant them protection. They were civilians, the most innocent victims of this war.
Now, as the storm subsides, they looked up at Ian, eyes full of awe and gratitude.
"Please tell us your name!" a young man shouted boldly, "We want to erect statues for you, offer sacrifices! Let us remember your grace!"
This group of people insisted.
Repeating such actions seemed to bring them comfort. A crowd gradually gathered, the sound grew louder, as if they wanted to venerate this mysterious Savior as a new Deity.
It's also for them to find a new shelter.
"Ah."
Ian sighed.
He could have left, but he loathed seeing humanity in such a state—always seeking new Deities to rely on, always entrusting their fate to stronger beings.
So, he stood firm, surveyed the crowd, and slowly began:
"I don't need your admiration, nor do I want your offerings. I am not your Deity, nor will I be your Savior—humans should not rely on Gods."
His voice wasn't loud, yet it struck each person's heart like thunder.
"What do you think Gods are? Benefactors who grant blessings? Judges imposing punishments? No, they are just stronger beings than you—and strength never equates to justice."
"You always thought that only Gods could save you, that only powerful forces could determine your fate. But I'm telling you, this idea itself is a shackle for you. It is because you believe in the existence of Gods that you are repeatedly enslaved, exploited, sacrificed."
The crowd fell silent, some puzzled, some uneasy, but no one dared interrupt him.
"Look around you." Ian gestured at the ruins, "This is the price of relying on Gods. You placed your fate in Zeus's hands, allowing him to decide your life and death at will. You kneeled, prayed, sacrificed, but the result? If he got unhappy, the entire city turned to ash."
Some lowered their heads, some clenched their fists.
"True freedom isn't obtained through begging." Ian continued, "You need to learn to rely on yourselves—build your own homes, establish your own laws, master your own strengths. Gods can give, and they can take away, but what you create yourselves, no one can take from you."
"You must understand, real power is not in the sky, but in your own hearts. It's your hands that created cities, your wisdom that kindled civilization, your courage that protected each other. If you are willing to unite, work hard, develop knowledge, and improve yourselves, then even without the shelter of Gods, you can lead a peaceful, happy life." Ian's words were not without reason, he was enlightening these ancient people.
"On the contrary, if you always wait for Gods to save you, then you will forever be slaves. Your fate will always be in the hands of others, and you will merely accept whatever arrangement passively." His voice was notably loud, ensuring every corner of the city where survivors were hidden could hear.
This surely utilized some magical means.
The old principal's speech magic was often very useful.
Many who heard Ian's words were stunned, the crowd was silent; some bowed their heads in thought, some showed struggle, some had expressions of sudden realization. A frail woman quietly sobbed: "But we're just mortals… without Divine Power, how do we fight them?"
"You certainly don't have Divine Power." Ian sneered, "I don't deny the Gods' might, but I believe more in human potential. You have wisdom, hands, the power to unite. You can learn Magic, forge weapons, establish your own city-states—rather than forever kneeling and waiting for the Deities to grant you alms."
He paused.
His gaze swept across each face.
"Remember, the reason Gods can rule over you is not because they are Gods, but because you've grown accustomed to being ruled. So, please don't kneel before Gods anymore. Learn to rely on yourselves, respect one another, build your own order and morality. Only then can you truly escape suffering and welcome a bright future."
Ian's words echoed decisively in everyone's heart.
Silence.
After a long pause, the elder who had first spoken trembled as he asked: "Then... what should we do?"
"Stand up." Ian said, "Don't kneel before anyone again. From tomorrow, plant the first seed, build the first house, write the first book, establish the first rule. Bit by bit, day by day, one day, you will establish a world no longer in need of Gods."
He took a step back, his black robe fluttered without wind.
"Indeed, I will not be your Savior, nor will I be your new God. If you truly wish to change your fate—start today, and no longer await the Deities' mercy." As he finished speaking, his figure began to distort and blur, finally transforming into a raven, spreading its wings and flying to the sky.
The raven swept past the crumbling city walls, across the burnt ruins, disappearing into the endless darkness. On the ground, the survivors stared dumbly at the direction of his departure.
No one kneeled.
No one prayed.
Only the whining wind blew through the ruins, as if witnessing the germination of a new era. Their eyes were no longer filled solely with fear and despair, but with an unprecedented glimmer.
That was hope, and the beginning of awakening.
Zeus stood on the clouds, his golden pupils reflecting the crowd in the ruins below.
He hadn't truly left.
As the Divine King, he was too aware of the danger of allowing humanity to awaken—once faith collapses, the authority of Gods will be shaken. And Ian's words were like casting a spark onto dry wood.
"Humans shouldn't rely on Gods..." Zeus repeated softly, his fingers clenched pale, thunder silently brewing within the clouds.
He slowly raised his hand, the spectral image of the Olympus Sword emerging in his palm. With just one strike, the entire ruins would turn to scorched earth, those humans who just ignited hope, along with their ridiculous thoughts, would all turn to ash.
"Father."
A golden light intercepted him. The Sun God drove the Sun Chariot and arrived, splendid rays piercing through the clouds. His face hidden behind the dazzling sun wheel, yet his voice was exceptionally clear: "Enough."
Zeus's sword's edge paused slightly.
"Do you want to provoke that raven again?" the Sun God whispered.
"You're questioning me?" Zeus's voice turned cold abruptly, the storm within the clouds detonated suddenly, lightning illuminating his grim face.
The Sun God did not retreat, but simply shook his head gently. The flames of his Sun Chariot flickered slightly, as if tainted by some invisible fear.
"I just..." He paused, Adam's apple moved, "...fear that bird."
For an instant, the air froze.
Zeus's pupils contracted, thunder flickered at his fingertips.
He remembered the disaster from countless years ago—Ian transformed into a raven, circling over the mountain above Sky City, its black wings blocking out the sun and moon, and when it landed, half of the palatial ground had collapsed.
The charred smell in memory seemed to linger at his nose again.
Ultimately.
Zeus chose to compromise.
Though already old and muddled, it was clear—his greatest fear had always been the raven.