“Me?” Clo pointed at herself with a pale finger. Her deep blue fingernails shimmered with a faint, ghostly blue light under the illumination. Her tone betrayed a hint of panic, as if she were anxious about what was to come.
“Correct. You are her vassal; you should inherit her authority... and then escape this era.” Metis noticed Clo’s unease and felt a bit surprised. She had expected Clo to be filled with wonder or a joy she couldn’t hide, but now it seemed that panic made up the majority of her feelings.
“Human, are you afraid?” Metis frowned. She began to contemplate countless possibilities for the future, and each one made her increasingly uneasy.
“No... I am just... struggling to contain my joy.” Clo offered a forced smile. She suddenly realized she had no other choice. However, on second thought, as gods of the Golden Age described by Li Yue, they hadn't been affected by the pollution Li Yue mentioned. They surely wouldn't be as... insane... as the gods of her own era.
“Speaking of which, you chose Jormungandr as the executioner... um...” Clo felt her next words might be somewhat offensive. She regretted the sentence as soon as it left her mouth.
“I suspect you want to ask why we didn't simply choose to commit suicide at that moment, right?” Metis gave a helpless smile. She had already prepared herself to answer this question, though she hadn't expected Clo to ask it now.
It seems... we in the future have caused quite a bit of trouble for the humans of that era...
“Of all the attributes a god possesses, the most tragic is that a god cannot commit suicide...” Metis smiled faintly. “So, when you become a god of the new era, you must be prepared. Perhaps it is a prison spanning thousands of years... a prison where endless life is the sentence and the world itself is the cage.”
“You've said so much, but if she doesn't want to inherit Chronos's authority, then everything is ruined.” Astarte poked Metis in the waist, her tone carrying a hint of playfulness.
“If Chronos’s thousands of years of preparation are ruined by a few of my words, then I suppose I am quite impressive.” Metis shrugged helplessly, a small smile playing on her lips. Compared to Astarte, her stature was somewhat petite; when she reached out her finger, her arm wasn't even long enough to reach Astarte sitting beside her.
“Alright, don't think too much about it. Whether or not you want to take her authority is your choice.” Astarte pinched Metis’s cheek, seemingly having found a new toy. She appeared to be in a good mood.
“It has been a long time since I witnessed the birth of a new god. When I get back this time, I’m going to weave two new robes—one for Little Meng and one for you.” Astarte smiled. “I wonder if the Little Meng of thousands of years later will cry sad tears when she sees them. If she really does cry, then the blame can fall on me.” Astarte laughed happily.
“However... she probably won't wail over such small things anymore...” Metis tried to swat Astarte’s hand away. After several failed attempts, she could only give up.
“I know you have many concerns. Once you see Chronos, I think... all your doubts will vanish into thin air.” Metis looked into Clo’s eyes. From her gaze, Clo had a faint feeling that she wasn't just looking at her.
“Oh... I still can't imagine Little Meng with a cold face and blood on her body...” Astarte looked at Jormungandr sitting next to Thor, eating meat in large gulps. She seemed to be secretly competing with the god who wielded the power of thunder. The pile of bones beside Thor grew higher and higher, while there was nothing at all beside Jormungandr.
It seemed her sharp teeth had ground the bones to powder; after all, spitting them out was a bit of a hassle.
Dionysus, with his large belly, laughed heartily, and the surrounding gods erupted in cheers. Sif tucked her golden hair behind her ears and used a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from Thor’s brow.
Clo held her wine glass. She didn't know if, in the many quiet hours of the night when Li Yue sat silently on the sofa, this was the scene she remembered. She thought... perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't, or perhaps it was one of many similar moments.
...
“Where are they?” Li Yue paced through the long, narrow corridor. She looked at the murals on the walls, dried by time. These things had not completely vanished within her domain; perhaps they... did not have much to do with the faith she had designated.
She glanced at them casually and didn't allow herself a second look. Her blood-red eyes flickered before returning to their usual coldness. She lightly pressed her hand against her chest, her breathing becoming slightly hurried.
“These things... I actually... didn't have time to destroy them back then...” Li Yue pressed her brow. She felt an unspeakable pain beginning to harass her mind again.
“Tsk... are there... any living things around here...” She released her perception. At that moment, several auras were hovering not far away, not daring to approach. They didn't seem in a hurry to strike, but were observing from a distance.
“It seems... they should know that no one is left alive in here.” Li Yue’s eyes narrowed slightly. All previous conflicts had occurred within the Church, and no innocent civilians had been affected. As early as the start of the ritual, Bishop Isaiah had evacuated all unrelated people.
Unless it was absolutely necessary, Li Yue still didn't want to harm her subjects.
She clenched her hand and then slowly relaxed it, as if feeling her own power.
“Let’s... slaughter those flies first...”
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