Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

Chapter 372: Chapter 99: Burnt Offerings and Clay Tablets

Separated by vast distances, separated by the void between worlds, no one knew everything that had happened in the Hemenu World.

On Mount Olympus, the King of All Gods had long forgotten that human female. Although still young among the deities, compared to humans, Io was just an insignificant detail in his lengthy life.

Now, with the seasons changing, time passing, he focused all his attention on Earth, on Apollo who was about to reach Delphi.

For Gaia was soon to awaken, and the throbbing from the Earth was growing increasingly intense. Only when both Apollo and Aphrodite had returned to their places before then, could Zeus's Sovereign Ritual be half-established. By that time, he would initially possess power surpassing that of all gods, confident enough to confront Mother Earth on Olympus.

In such circumstances, the existence of Io had, naturally, long been forgotten by him.

However, the world was not limited to Olympus, just as humans were not restricted to the new generations. While the Divine King's attention was all on the present, in the north of the Eastern Continent, shortly before and after Apollo's approach to the plains of Delphi, a true 'holocaust' took place—a type that hadn't been seen since the birth of humankind.

A blood sacrifice was made to the gods, and the gods accepted it. Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps it was an unintentional glimpse into destiny, but just as Laine had once predicted, Ande was eventually taught by the world what reality was, and was forced to face its true nature. (see 3-36)

But fortunately, due to a moment of indecision in the past, he had lost the best possible outcome, but there was still a slightly less favorable one left.

...

Around the makeshift altar built of earth and stones, dozens of people gathered here. They lit bonfires, tied captured wolves to the altar, and then stepped back a bit.

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Under their watchful eyes, a burly middle-aged man held a dagger of a familiar style. He walked step by step up to the altar, locking eyes with the sacrifice's fierce gaze revealing its underlying panic.

"Pfff—"

"Awooo—"

The next moment, the sharp dagger mercilessly stabbed into the back of the wolf. Hot blood poured out, causing the bound wild animal to let out a painful howl. It struggled desperately with its limbs, but without the ability to resist, bound as it was.

The scene was silent, with birds seemingly reluctant to approach the area. Only the rustling of the wind through the leaves and the breathing of the crowd accompanied the howl of the wolf.

"Sss—"

With the second knife, expressionless and swift, Kolon cleanly sliced off the wolf's left paw.

The wolf's paw fell to the ground with a patter. Kolon bent down to pick up the bloody limb and then threw it into the fire in front of him. Amidst the crackling sounds, he and the spectators watched as it gradually turned to char.

"Awooo..."

The fire burned as the blood continued to seep from the sacrifice's wounds. As the blood ran dry, the howls grew weaker, and the fearsome predator on the makeshift stone and earth altar slowly lost its breath.

But under everyone's gaze, Kolon didn't rush to the next step; he just continued to lock eyes with the despair in the eyes of the dying wolf.

The wild beast's eyes reflected Kolon's silhouette. Through the animal's gaze, he seemed to experience its agonizing pain.

No, it wasn't just seeming. An invisible connection linked them together, and in that moment, Kolon felt the sacrifice's despair and weakness, the sensation of life ebbing away, as if it was happening to himself. However, he just twitched the corners of his mouth and had no other reaction.

Over a long enough timespan, one can become accustomed to anything, pain included. So Kolon simply watched quietly until the sacrifice's last drop of blood drained, its body stiffening on the rack.

"Pff—"

For the final step, Kolon reached out his hand. He gouged out the eyes of the wolf's carcass and arranged them on a small silver plate. The sting of pain from the eyes didn't disturb him; he simply set the plate aside and then gave a hard push to the wooden rack binding the wolf's body.

The rack fell into the bonfire, consumed by the flames together with the wolf's carcass. Thick smoke began to billow, and in a place invisible to the common eye, streams of blood energy soared into the sky, entering some mysterious realm.

At the same time, a force that seemed to have been enveloping the crowd dissipated, and a sense of genuine relief flooded the hearts of everyone present.

"The sacrifice is complete... We won't encounter any 'accidents' until the corruption of these eyes," someone said as they placed the silver tray on the altar and Kolon turned to face the crowd around him.

Many years had passed, and the number of these Bronze Age immigrants had noticeably dwindled. The dead needed no mention, but even among the living, few were unscathed.

On their bodies, besides the wounds from battles with wild beasts, they bore many extremely similar ones. Apart from these, however, there were no obvious signs of aging.

It seemed as if some power in the depths was prolonging their lives but, at the same time, bringing them disaster.

"Lord Kolon, although the basic 'blood sacrifice' has ended, there's still..."

Someone in the crowd began to speak in a low voice. He didn't finish his sentence, but Kolon immediately understood his meaning.

The basic sacrifice was to protect themselves, but a further holocaust could endow the people with more. Indeed, although Kolon hated something that should have died long ago, now, they couldn't do without it.