Chapter 1537: Then There’s No Problem

Separating the gods’ humanity from their divinity—granting these deities, who once could only operate strictly by immutable rules, the freedom to act on their own accord. Allowing them, when divine calamity strikes, one final chance to intervene and protect this world—to bring about their own end.

Self-termination. This was the first and last freedom the Lady of Night bestowed upon the gods.

As Gaia had said, this was the best choice for mortal beings: the gods would resolve the divine disasters themselves, sparing mortals from any burden. The fall of the gods would leave no lingering corruption; the mutual annihilation of divinity and humanity would cleanse far more thoroughly than any external force. The world could then stand firm against the demonic tides. Neither the Alliance nor the Divine Council would need to worry about divine calamities anymore.

But this was not the path that High Lord envisioned.

His face darkened instantly, a change the three goddesses noticed immediately. Gaia, the eldest, smiled gently. She understood what the mortal before her was thinking, but shook her head softly.

“This world is always like this. The course of all things rarely follows one’s wishes. But compared to the countless civilizations that have vanished season after season, we are fortunate. We have finally found a way to continue, and before the end comes, we still have one chance to choose. Those before us never even had that.”

High Lord’s brow remained furrowed. Amber, standing nearby, suddenly seemed to recall something, her voice tinged with doubt.

“But can this really be called passing the Rite of Passage?”

High Lord’s mind stirred. Amber’s words seemed to trigger a memory.

“You mean…”

“The Lady of Night said she was preparing a grand Rite of Passage for this world,” Amber explained, “and the concept of the Rite is that mortals break free from their mental shackles, gods break free from the chains of faith, and both sides achieve autonomous separation. The example of Talrond proves this process must be completed by mortals themselves.” She hesitated, “I remember you once said that ‘gods’ are like the ‘inner demons’ of mortals, so such demons can only be overcome by one’s own strength. But if the gods are committing suicide… does that really count as mortals overcoming the Rite by their own power? Isn’t the gods’ power then an external force?”

High Lord was momentarily stunned. This was the first time he’d been confronted with this question: from the perspective of mortal beings, is the power of the gods an external force?

His first instinct was yes. Divine power is certainly external to mortals—it is a blessing that descends from nowhere. But then he shook his head. He realized he couldn’t judge this from an individual’s point of view.

“From the perspective of an individual mortal, gods are an external force. Like a praying cleric—their power comes from a god’s blessing. But from the perspective of mortals as a whole…” High Lord frowned, feeling he was grasping something elusive. “Gods are a ‘phenomenon’ arising from the collective consciousness of mortals. They are a product, a link within the cycle. So divine power, from the perspective of mortals as a whole, shouldn’t be considered external… Wait, it’s more than that. There must be a higher perspective.”

He suddenly stopped, a vague thread in his mind rapidly clarifying. Amber fell silent, sensing not to interrupt his thoughts. After a few seconds, High Lord finally caught the key to the idea.

“We need to step outside the concept of ‘mortal’ and look at civilization as a whole,” he said thoughtfully. “Our civilization is composed of both mortals and gods. The Rite of Passage may not be limited to mortals alone, but should be understood as the coming-of-age of the entire civilization. The Lady of Night is referring to the civilization’s maturity, not just the mortals’. So within this framework, the gods can’t be considered external forces. Their actions are the result of internal forces operating within civilization itself.

“Think about why the Lady of Night could push this forward. It’s because the Divine Council first weakened the chains. She only acted as a catalyst—accelerating a process that might have taken decades or centuries down to a single year. But aside from her catalytic role, every step of the Rite remains an internal part of civilization’s development.”

Gaia listened carefully to High Lord’s analysis. She quickly understood his point—that the gods’ self-termination did not violate the conditions of the Rite. But she didn’t see how this affected the decision she and her sisters had made.

“So you’re saying that the gods choosing to end themselves aligns with the Rite’s requirements…”

“No,” High Lord interrupted, “what I mean is that we only need the final result: the civilization’s maturity. Self-termination is just a means to that end. And as we all know, ‘means’ can be flexible.” He furrowed his brow, his mind racing. “I want to confirm one thing first. The Lady of Night asked you to kill your divine half when the final rebellion occurs—but she didn’t require you to perish alongside your divinity, right?”

Gaia paused, then nodded slowly. “As long as the runaway divinity is destroyed, the problem is solved. But now the gods are split in two—the divine half and the human half are nearly equal in strength, the divine even stronger. If we attack our own divinity, the best outcome is mutual destruction. In the worst case, we might have to detonate the entire divine realm to stop the completely mad divinity… Either way, survival is impossible.”

“That doesn’t matter. As long as the goal is to destroy the divinity, that’s enough,” High Lord waved dismissively. “That matches the conclusions from the history of the Divine Council, and fits perfectly with Talrond’s example. You know the Dragon God fell, but the human half has already reformed and been reborn. That didn’t stop the dragons from ‘coming of age.’ So our goal is simple: find a way for your human halves to survive this ‘civil war.’”

Amber’s eyes widened as she glanced at High Lord. Though she didn’t yet know his exact plan, she was certain he was cooking up something wildly audacious. She recognized that gleam in his eyes all too well.

The three goddesses, however, were clearly unaccustomed to this kind of “outside-the-box” thinking. Though they now had freedom of humanity, their long years of strict adherence to rules made them uneasy about seeking loopholes. From this perspective, the fact that Mylmina had been actively exploiting loopholes before securing her divine seat made her a true scoundrel among gods.

Eve, the goddess of harvest, looked at High Lord with doubt. “But this is nearly impossible. The divine halves are incredibly powerful. Even with the opportunity the Lady of Night created, the best we can hope for is mutual annihilation… Wait, are you suggesting sending mortal armies into the divine realm to ‘assist’ us?”

Before High Lord could answer, Flora shook her head. “That won’t work. Mortals can’t enter the divine realm at will. Without passing the Rite, any mortal stepping into the divine realm would immediately collapse under spiritual corruption. Even the few mortals who have broken their chains and reached the divine throne don’t have enough power to influence the battle. And we chose self-termination to avoid dragging the mortal nations into this—a deadlock.”

“Listen to me first,” High Lord interrupted bluntly. “Of course mortal armies can’t enter. But what about mortal weapons?”

The three goddesses froze. The air beneath the golden oak grew tense, a strange silence settling over them. Amber’s mind lit up—she knew exactly what High Lord was getting at.

“Let me confirm something,” High Lord raised a finger. “Since you can now move freely, you should be able to bring some ‘things’ back to your divine realm, right?”

“That’s… possible,” Gaia said uncertainly. “We haven’t tried, but in theory, it’s no problem. Lifeless objects aren’t affected by spiritual tendencies or corruption.”

“Second,” High Lord raised another finger. “The divine halves on the throne are pure divinity. They don’t think freely, right? They only follow the ‘doctrines’ set by the spiritual currents. Except during the final rebellion, when they lose control and rampage, they do nothing else.”

“That’s… correct,” Gaia said, warming to the idea. She looked at High Lord oddly. “But I must warn you: the divine halves only remain passive if they don’t feel threatened. Any hostile action—even from your own human halves—would trigger an immediate counterattack. Gods are extremely sensitive and quick to perceive threats, because all faiths teach that ‘divine authority must not be offended.’”

High Lord spread his hands. “Is a bomb detonating considered a threat?”

The three goddesses exchanged glances. After a moment, Flora was the first to look back at High Lord.

“Then we need to test it.”

“Wait here,” High Lord’s excitement grew. “I’ll find you a bomb.”

Before he finished, Amber suddenly pulled a small metal object from her pocket. “No need. I’ve got a grenade—might be a bit small, but good enough for a test.”

High Lord stared in surprise at the shadowy commando goose. “Why do you carry that around?”

“How should I know?” Amber shrugged. “I don’t even remember when or where I got it. But hey, I’m an intelligence director—carrying some self-defense gear isn’t too much, right?”

High Lord wanted to say that even for an intelligence director, carrying a grenade everywhere was a bit much. But since it solved their immediate problem, he said nothing and took the grenade from Amber, handing it to Flora.

“Look at this. Can you sense any hostility or ‘offense’ from it?”

Curious, Flora bent down and took the intricate mortal device in her hands. To her, the grenade looked like a simple pebble. She turned it over thoughtfully.

“So this is one of your new weapons… Interesting. It looks like a quiet lump of metal, no edges or blades. I don’t feel any threat from it…”

As she spoke, she brought the grenade to her lips and bit it lightly—the youngest of the three goddesses clearly had a stronger curiosity and playful spirit than her elder sisters. High Lord hadn’t expected this sudden move.

But that bite triggered the grenade’s delicate firing mechanism.

The moment the magical circuit connected, all three goddesses reacted instantly. Flora quickly pulled the grenade from her mouth and held it tightly. A shimmering shield flashed into existence, enveloping the grenade completely. Then a burst of light exploded in the palm of the Spring Goddess—

Like the muffled pop of a balloon bursting underwater, Flora was startled—but only for a moment.

“When the explosion went off, I sensed an extremely faint ‘threat,’ but before that, I really didn’t feel anything at all,” the Goddess of Spring said in surprise, staring at the smoke dissipating from her palm as she rubbed the still-burning iron fragments. “But its power was so small…”

“We have something much stronger,” Gawain smiled. “Powers a hundred times, a thousand times, even ten thousand times greater—and mass-produced.”

The three goddesses’ eyes lit up almost simultaneously.

By this point, Gawain’s clever plan was pretty clear—since the ultimate goal was simply to ‘destroy the divine essence,’ the method didn’t really matter. The gods’ divine halves were basically just automated response machines sitting on their thrones, answering prayers. There was still some time before they would lose control completely. So during this ‘buffer period,’ teaming up with the allied ‘divine humanity’ to prepare for battle seemed reasonable enough. Bombs, after all, are just harmless lumps of metal before detonation. Stockpiling tens or even hundreds of thousands of tons of explosives around the divine halves couldn’t be considered excessive, right?

As for playing fair—this was a matter of life and death. Who the hell cares about fairness now? Besides, what even is ‘fairness’? It’s a concept that evolves with the times. In this new era, sheer firepower is fairness—and Cecil has always had plenty of that…

Still, the Harvest Goddess Eve looked a bit worried. As a deity of agriculture, she clearly didn’t quite understand Cecil’s idea of ‘fairness.’ “Can these things really kill a divine half?”

“The God of War died because of them,” Gawain said, spreading his hands. “Tell me, can your divine halves fight better than the God of War?”

Eve paused, then instinctively replied, “Then there’s no problem.”

“No, actually, I have another concern,” Gawain shook his head. “Even with all these preparations, the gods’ regenerative abilities remain a tough issue. Supported by the worldly thoughts and beliefs of mortals, no matter how many explosives we pile up, it’s probably impossible to kill your divine halves instantly. Do you have a solution for that?”

“Leave it to us,” Gaia said gently, nodding slightly. “Since Lady Night has instructed us to find a way to kill our own divine halves, it means we have a method to prevent their regeneration. As beings equal to the divine halves, we can temporarily channel all the worldly thoughts onto ourselves. During this time, the divine halves can be killed. But this process must be swift, because as time passes, the thoughts of mortals will reshape us back into gods.”

Gawain exhaled softly and smiled. “Then there’s no problem.”

(End of chapter)