Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

The so-called entrance might be established near their old gathering place. As long as the hero finds it, he can find the correct portal.

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

"You must know, Heracles—"

As its mouth opened and closed, the faint sound of wood creaking from Ande's body could be heard: "For almost an entire epoch, this has been one of the rare forbidden lands in the Chaos Terrain."

"It's not because some terrifying creatures are lurking here, nor is it out of fear of being considered rebellious by the Divine King of Mount Olympus for reminiscing about the Titans. It's just that this land holds too many twisted rule traps, and the residual influence of the Primordial Deity is never-ending even after tens of thousands of years."

"I cannot glimpse the traces of old times here, at least not from the last epoch."

"Moreover, with all due respect, I do not believe that the Spirit Realm would have any direct connection with the Golden Humanity—what I mean is, that kind of fervent reverence for deities, which is so perfect that it doesn't seem like the personality of normal beings, makes them feel incompatible with the Spirit Realm to me."

"The Spirit Realm... would not place its entrance beside these life forms whose nature has been locked since birth."

...

"Sigh…"

"Perhaps..."

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

With a slight sigh, he continued along the river. The hero accepted Ande's explanation, but he did not give up the search.

After all, as he mentioned, there were no other clues at the moment.

After walking for a while, he reached the end of the river.

There, Heracles found the ruins of what once was a dried-up pond.

Nearby, Prometheus was half-kneeling on the ground, examining a broken stele intently.

"Lord Prometheus... have you discovered something here?"

Unexpectedly, the two who had parted ways earlier encountered each other here, and the hero couldn't help but brighten up.

Taking a couple of steps forward, Heracles looked at the ancient stele.

Erosion over thousands of years had made its surface smooth and rough, and most of the text was no longer clear.

However, just like the few steles discovered earlier, both Prometheus and Heracles had ways to reconstruct the text.

As the Forethinker's fingers moved over it, strange yet familiar characters began to emerge on the stele.

Focusing intently, the hero hoped to find something useful on it.

"… Redleaf Woods… desecration… creation…"

"You don't need to look anymore."

Getting up from the ground, Prometheus interrupted Heracles' reading.

"There is nothing about the Spirit Realm recorded on this. In fact, the Golden Humanity from the past didn't have any relation to the Spirit Realm."

"Aside from the suspicion that their king acquired some knowledge of the Spirit Realm from a dream, the relationship between them remained only that of creator and creation."

"As for this stele… it records the deeds of a certain 'blasphemer.' Compared to the Golden Humanity, she may have been more closely related to the Spirit Realm."

"A blasphemer? Did the Golden Age also have blasphemers?"

The statement surprised him as the education Heracles received from childhood portrayed the Golden Humanity as the epitome of perfection. Even now, in the Mortal Realm, the words 'golden' and 'perfect' share a close etymological relationship.

Faced with the hero's skepticism, Prometheus shook his head slowly.

"Indeed, she was recorded as a blasphemer, but she wasn't one of the Golden Humanity."

"She used to live here, in this ancient forest once called 'Redleaf Woods.'"

"In those days, this place was not far from the settlements of the Golden Humanity. These immortals often came here to get water."

"Until one day, the 'blasphemer' left this place forever. And under the power of that desecration, her former abode became hidden and invisible."

"A power of… desecration?"

Furrowing his brow, the hero felt a sense of déjà vu.

And from his chest pocket, Ande reminded him directly.

"Witchcraft."

"If there is any power the Golden Humanity deemed as desecration, it is not physical strength but the ability to command the elements like a deity."

"Witchcraft is precisely that power. After all, in those days, humanity was the only intelligent mortal race, and there were no diverse pathways of the transcendence."

"This is the first time I realize how ancient the origins of witchcraft are."

"Golden Age… a deity-desecrating individual… being called a 'blasphemer' by the Golden Humanity proves that this being wasn't a god, yet she could use witchcraft… truly surprising."

"I always thought witchcraft originated at the end of the second epoch with the birth of the Goddess of the Magic Net. So, even she wasn't the first to create witchcraft?"

"Who then was the original creator…?"

For the first time encountering something intriguing, Ande slowly crawled out from the hero's pocket.

Gazing at the stele on the ground, Prometheus shook his head again.

"No, Ande, she was the original creator."

"Whether or not she was the inventor, she must have been the first to display witchcraft's power in the Mortal Realm…"

With a complex expression, old memories surged in his mind.

Prometheus remembered that back then, he and his brother lived harmoniously together.

He was proud and conceited, thinking he had seen through the world's affairs.

But now, he was Zeus' prisoner, and Epimetheus was wanted by the new Divine Court.

The Giant God holding up the sky was never at peace, continually bearing the heavens at the edge of the Western Sea.

"Heracles... you may not know, but back in those days, the Goddess of the Magic Net was not a god in the true sense."

"She had no authority, no domain, and even before the rise of faith, she had no way to obtain divine power."

"So her own parents cast her out of the sky, leaving her fallen in a corner of the Mortal Realm."

"No one knew she would someday become the Master of the Magic Net, the source of witchcraft, and a pioneer of innovative secret techniques. The Golden Humanity merely followed the Celestial Gods' will, rejecting this 'blasphemer.'"

"This place should be her former abode, the place where she first grew."

"And she... Heracles, might be the one connected to the 'Spirit Realm Entrance' here."

Among the few present, only Dionysus hadn't met Ande before.

Once under the Sea Eye, Prometheus had communicated with the puppet.

Thus, the former was familiar with the latter's existence and some of his abilities. The Forethinker raised his hand, signaling Ande to use his special ritual to reveal the traces of the past here.

If this place is related to the Goddess of the Magic Net, then they should search for her traces.

Unless she never returned here for an entire epoch, the Great Divine Power's influence, though strong, wouldn't extend along the river of time to prevent future seekers from glimpsing what would transpire here.

Nodding lightly, Ande leapt out from the hero's pocket.

Exploring events that occurred within this epoch... shouldn't be too difficult. After all, it was one of his divinity's abilities.

Drama, plays—they exist to recreate past events or interpret occurrences that never happened.

Peering into history, drafting plays, and finally deriving real power—these are among Ande's methods.

In no time, a grand ceremony appeared in the open space beside the pond.

The puppet's fingers moved slightly, and hundreds of paper figures fell to the ground under invisible strings, dancing around the ritual track.

It was like a divine witchcraft ceremony, worshiping the