Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

At the foot of the former Mount of the Gods, beside a riverbed that had long dried up.

To find some useful clues as quickly as possible, the group had already split up to search.

Taking a few quick steps, he crossed a decaying tree stump.

Dimly, Heracles could still see that this might have been a picturesque ancient forest thousands upon thousands of years ago.

Back then, the wind would come, and millions of maple trees would rustle in unison.

Perhaps the people living here would dance alone in the wind, speaking their hearts out to the flora.

He shook his head slightly, wiping these imagined, bygone scenes from his mind.

Facing the barren and desolate land before him, the great hero had no solution either.

There was nothing here, let alone the 'true entrance' to the Spirit Realm.

Not even half a day ago, Heracles had sought help from Ande to peek into the past events of this place, such as the whereabouts of the Golden Humanity.

The so-called entrance might be established near their former gathering place; once found, the great hero would find the correct gateway.

However, upon hearing his request, the puppet regretfully told him it was beyond its abilities.

"You must understand, Heracles—"

The opening and closing of Ande's mouth, the sound of wood colliding on its body, could still be faintly heard: "For nearly an era, this place has been one of the few forbidden lands on the Chaos Terrain."

"Not because some terrible beings are entrenched here, nor for fear of being seen as rebels nostalgic for the Titans by the Divine King of Mount Olympus. It's because there are too many distorted rules and traps on this land, and the influence of the Primordial Deities lingers on for ten thousand years."

"I can't glimpse ancient traces here, at least not from the last era."

"Moreover, pardon my frankness, but I don't think the Spirit Realm has any direct connection with the Golden Humanity—I mean, their fervent, equal veneration for the deities is so perfect that it doesn't feel like the character of normal living beings. To me, they seem out of place with the Spirit Realm."

"The Spirit Realm... should not place the entrance near such inherently locked-down lives."

...

"Hmph..."

"Perhaps that's so."

"If I had other clues, I wouldn't want to seek traces of the Golden Age either..."

With a slight sigh, he continued forward along the riverbed. The great hero accepted Ande's explanation, but he had not given up the idea of searching.

After all, as he said, he had no other clues at the moment.

He walked a little further, all the way to the end of the riverbed.

There, Heracles found the site of an equally dried-up pond.

And right beside the pond, Prometheus was half-kneeling on the ground, studying a broken stele.

"Sir Prometheus... have you found anything here?"

Unexpectedly encountering each other after their earlier separation, the great hero couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement.

Taking two steps forward, Heracles looked at the ancient stele.

Weathered for thousands of years, its surface had become smooth and rough, and the few letters were no longer clear.

Yet, as with the steles they had found earlier, both Prometheus and Heracles had methods to restore the inscriptions.

As the Forethinker's fingers slid across, one by one, the unfamiliar yet familiar characters emerged on the stele.

Focusing intently, the great hero hoped to discover something useful.

"...Redleaf Woods... blasphemer... creator..."

"No need to read further."

Rising from the ground, Prometheus interrupted Heracles' reading.

"There are no records about the Spirit Realm on this. In fact, the Golden Humanity had nothing to do with the Spirit Realm."

"Aside from their king, who allegedly gained knowledge of the Spirit Realm from dreams, their connection was merely that of creator and created."

"As for this stele... it records the deeds of some 'blasphemer.' Compared to the Golden Humanity, her connection with the Spirit Realm might be closer."

"A blasphemer? Were there also blasphemers during the Golden Age?"

Heracles was surprised to hear this; in the education he received since childhood, the Golden Humanity was synonymous with perfect morality. Even in the Mortal Realm today, there is a linguistic and etymological similarity between 'golden' and 'perfect.'

In response to the great hero's doubt, Prometheus only shook his head slowly.

"She was indeed recorded as a blasphemer, but she was not a member of the Golden Humanity."

"This place is where she once lived, an ancient forest named 'Redleaf Woods.'"

"In that era, this place was near the Golden Humanity."