'So this is the trump card Hecate holds?'
Looking at the dreamscape world before him where the ancient gods did not exist, Lorne fell into thoughtful contemplation.
The [World] was like a great tree that had grown out of [Chaos].
Too many branches would consume precious nutrients and limit the [World]'s further flourishing.
Therefore, a pair of scissors was needed to strengthen the trunk by weakening the branches, pruning away the excess growth, ensuring all nutrients were supplied to the trunk, allowing the tree to grow vigorously.
The trunk was the [Future] determined by the three Moirai and executed by Zeus.
The scissors were the [Dream of Truth] crafted by Hecate in [Elysium].
Fate was the child of inevitability.
And night was the mother of dreams.
As Nyx's successor, Hecate and the three Moirai had always cooperated, planning the [Path] forward for the world in the [Night], erasing [Possibilities] that should not exist.
For instance, among the five primordial gods, the primordial god of love Eros, the god of darkness Erebus, the abyss god Tartarus, and among the Titans, Sky Father Ouranos, Old Sea God Pontos...
They had perhaps once existed in this world.
But with their bodies torn apart and their existence denied, these [Branches] that would consume the world's nutrients had been gradually pruned away, stripped of their future possibilities, and thus had fallen into eternal slumber and become part of the "new world."
And in this future, only new gods and a world jointly recognized by the three Moirai and Hecate would be permitted to continue existing.
Elysium was the burial ground of the old gods, and the cornerstone for completing this grand objective.
Lorne rubbed his chin and looked with great interest at the dreamscape world before him that had buried who-knew-how-many ancient gods.
Existence is born from nothingness. Light springs from night.
The gods came from chaos.
The very bottom of the Underworld, Tartarus, was undoubtedly the region closest to [Nothingness] and [Darkness].
Establishing Elysium here and using the collective Dream of Truth could eliminate those ancient gods' immortality step by step, erase their existence, and build upon their bones the paradise planned by the three Moirai and Hecate.
'With your bodies as the foundation of our paradise!'
'So this was the true meaning of [Elysium] being called a "paradise" and "heaven."'
How ironic...
Lorne shook his head, his eyes flickering as he sank into new contemplation.
If all went smoothly, in the process of step by step erasing the other competitors, the divinity and divine power of the three Moirai and Hecate would also gradually strengthen, eventually growing to an unshakeable level.
'The future [God of Chance] and [God of Inevitability]?'
So the two ultimate divine positions that existed in Orphic legend were ones they had reserved for themselves.
However, one had to be careful.
While the mantis catches the cicada, the oriole waits behind.
Lorne thought of the dozens, even hundreds of mythology versions he had flipped through in the future, and let out a scoffing laugh, shaking his head.
This plan looked perfect on the surface, but it couldn't withstand the fact that there were too many people harboring malicious intentions.
The three Moirai were indeed the main orchestrators of the entire plan.
But neither Zeus nor Hecate would be content to merely serve as a blade for [Fate] to be used and discarded at will.
So each of them had their own private calculations.
Zeus hoped to forever transcend fate's control.
Hecate hoped that chance could surpass inevitability.
This also gave outsiders the opportunity to come in and stir things up.
For instance, Lorne himself...
'You all want to win? You're far too greedy.'
A certain chess piece that had gradually been feeling out the [Truth] toyed with the twelve-sided die now glowing on nine faces in his hand, calculating his next move.
The reason the three Moirai had not moved against Hecate had been found.
On one hand, the integration of divinity and the world still needed Hecate's blade.
Their cooperation had not yet reached the point of open rupture.
On the other hand, who knew how many old gods had been buried in this [Dream of Truth].
It might not only be the discovered Typhon and the Kronos trio.
Even legendary-level old monsters like Chaos and Gaia might have been schemed against.
If they were all woken up at once, the entire Greek world would likely be turned upside down in an instant.
And then everyone would stop having any fun at all.
'Wait. Turned upside down?'
'Why couldn't this nuclear bomb-level card be held in his own hands?'
Lorne's eyes brightened at this thought.
His gaze swept with burning eagerness over the dreamscape world before him, and he gradually began making certain attempts.
However, after a good while of busy activity, he finally sat down in dejection on the street corner, his face full of helplessness.
There was nothing to be done.
This dream was just like reality. Drinking water quenched thirst.
Eating an apple filled the stomach.
A breeze brought flower fragrance to the nose. Rainwater fell and the ground grew wet...
He had spent a full seven or eight hours and hadn't found even the slightest flaw.
And moreover, even if he found a flaw in the dreamscape, he couldn't possibly actually wake up the whole group of old monsters inside.
After all, he hadn't yet lived enough of his life.
The most ideal outcome at present was for him to find and gain control of the core mechanism operating this dreamscape world, and from then on, possess a nuclear bomb-level trump card for self-preservation.
But that woman Hecate had hidden things far too deeply, and simply wasn't giving him this opportunity.
'How about kidnapping Hypnos?'
'The three thousand Oneiroi and that sleep god must be a crucial part of the [Dream of Truth]!'
Lorne's eyes flickered, and a wicked thought rose in his heart.
According to legend, when Hera wanted to harm Heracles returning from Troy by sea, in order to keep Zeus from finding out, she simply Hypnos put Zeus to sleep.
When Zeus woke and learned that Heracles had been blown to the island of Cos, he flew into a rage and hung Hera from Mount Olympus in chains, then threw Hypnos off Olympus.
Still not satisfied, he threatened to cast Hypnos into Tartarus.
Hypnos had no choice but to hide inside the robes of the goddess Nyx so Zeus couldn't find him.
And because of Zeus's reverence for Nyx, the matter was dropped.
Now Nyx had already split.
The only one who could protect Hypnos was Hecate, her successor.
Since she was willing to go to such great lengths to shield Hypnos, it proved that this sleep god held considerable value.
If he could abduct Hypnos, lock him in a dark room and pressure him with questioning, he might be able to extract a great deal of useful information from his mouth.
However, after thinking it through carefully for a moment, Lorne shook his head again, and had to abandon this tempting idea.
For no other reason than he couldn't beat him...
His own level was fine for tormenting simple gods below the rank of chief god.
But Hypnos, as one of the twin gods of the Underworld, could basically be equated with an Olympian chief god.
He was a tough nut not to be trifled with.
The experience of two encounters had told Lorne that if he stubbornly insisted on charging in headfirst, he would most likely come to grief.
And besides, this sleep god was not a loner.
Even if by some stroke of luck the attempt succeeded, it would inevitably draw the attention of the Underworld gods and the Olympian gods.
At that point, even if he had eight heads, he couldn't withstand the pursuit of a group of chief gods.
Sigh. Scheming had its limits.
Even the most brilliant calculations would ultimately hit a dead end at times.
Especially when faced with matters as openly displayed as this one.
Lorne let out a long sigh, growing increasingly desperate to advance to chief god level early and gain a few more means of self-preservation.
But right now, Hecate already had her eyes hungrily fixed on him.
Once he elevated to chief god level and entered his mature phase, that grandmother-teacher figure would very likely move against him.
A single line with walls at both ends.
Truly neither advancing nor retreating was an option.
Just as Lorne was getting a headache over this, a low voice came from behind him.
"What are you thinking about? Outsider?"
"Ah, I..."
Lorne had been about to open his mouth and brush it off with a few words, but then his thoughts caught on that word "outsider" in what had been said.
His expression changed drastically as he snapped his head around toward the source of the voice.
On the bluestone-paved street, a middle-aged man wearing a black cloak, with a pale and gloomy complexion and thick black hair and beard, stood quietly in the shadow of the street corner.
A pair of pitch-black eyes resembled a lightless abyss, deep and still, carrying within that stillness a trace of lifeless, dispirited exhaustion.
"...Nothing. The scenery outside the city looks nice. I'll head out and have a look first."
Lorne squeezed out a smile, then without the slightest hesitation turned on his heel, spun around, and ran!
'Trying to leave? Hmph!'
The black-haired middle-aged man let out a cold hum, raised his hand slightly, and a black longsword condensed from the death energy of the Underworld slashed forward.
"HMMM!"
Accompanied by the resonance of ether, a pitch-black crescent-shaped sword aura tore through the space of the dreamscape world and slashed directly toward the target's back.
Sensing the sharp sound of air splitting behind him and a pressure unlike anything he had felt before, Lorne immediately twisted his body around, chanting sacred words at high speed. "I am the mightiest of men, holder of all victories. Undefeated through a hundred battles, unbroken before powerful enemies!"
At the same time, both hands gripped the air to summon the Nation-Founding Spear from his magical formation diagram.
He pulsed the divine power throughout his entire body, trailing blazing blood-red light, and drove it forward through the air to meet the attack.
BOOM!
A violent explosive boom rang out.
Even with Lorne going all out to respond, he was still instantly blasted away by that overwhelming force.
His internal organs shook violently, and a thread of blood couldn't help seeping from the corner of his mouth.
'So strong!'
Propping himself on the Nation-Founding Spear, having been sent skidding back a full hundred meters, Lorne felt shock crashing through him in waves.
And on the other side, the black-haired middle-aged man's face also showed a flash of astonishment.
'Still not dead?'
'Then another sword it is!'
Immediately, a cold ruthlessness rose in the middle-aged man's eyes.
The terrifying oppressive pressure within him poured out in all directions like a mountain collapsing and seas overturning.
The longsword of condensed death energy in his hand instantly grew to a hundred meters, and with speed faster than thunder could cover ears it came sweeping down forward.
Looking at the pitch-black massive sword falling above his head and the cold-faced middle-aged man across from him, the blood in Lorne's veins was almost frozen by the rising chill.
The situation was critical.
He had no time to think. He could only brace himself, raise his voice in sacred chant, and meet this thunderous strike head-on.
"I call upon the great god born first, of dual gender, roaming the heavens.
Born from the egg, with golden wings bright and glorious.
He bellows like a bull, origin of the blessed gods and mortals.
The unforgettable sower, the world's endless revelry. The Primordial One, Phanes!"
In an instant, twisting green grapevines grew wildly from beneath Lorne's feet.
Clusters of purple-red grapes burst open.
The intoxicating fragrance of wine permeated the air.
And in a trance, the middle-aged man saw various animal heads manifesting behind that figure. [Goat], [Whale], [Bull], [Wild Boar], [Warrior], [White Horse]...
Twin horns grew from his head.
He wore a [Crown] woven from grapevines.
Golden [Flames] burned around him. Both hands were twined with grape vines. His feet were shaped like the hind legs of a goat, calling to mind Pan's cloven hooves. [Roses] bloomed in full beneath his feet...
The next moment.
The [Whale] swept its tail, raising massive waves and storms of light. The [Goat] ran with the speed of lightning. The [Bull] stamped its hooves, the earth thundering and trembling.
The [Wild Boar] erupted in a savage roar, shattering light patterns rippling outward...
"In my name. Arise. Scatter the enemies to the four winds!"
All the heads let out a solemn thunderous roar.
The Nation-Founding Spear erupted with blazing torrents of blood-colored flame, burning toward the falling darkness.
BOOM!
Within an explosion like muffled thunder, black and gold two-colored light patterns burst open, forming a brilliant, bleeding spread of color.
As the earth quaked and mountains shook, the soil layer was thrown up like wrinkled water rippling with waves. Radiating fissures spread in all directions.
Wherever they passed, walls collapsed and buildings fell, grass and trees were snapped apart.
Tap, tap!
The sudden recoil came crashing back.
The middle-aged man's death energy longsword shattered inch by inch in his hand. His body was actually forced to step back two paces.
In an instant, an expression of disbelief surfaced on that gloomy face.
'He actually pushed me to this extent?'
"Cough, cough..."
At the same time, from within that seemingly bottomless enormous crater, the outsider covered in only a few tattered shreds of clothing, blood flowing freely, propped himself on the spear in his hand and with great difficulty stood up.
Although the sound of bones grinding together throughout his body, along with his skin that had barely a single intact piece left, all testified that his injuries were not light.
But after withstanding that strike, to still be able to stand up.
This truly left the middle-aged man across from him feeling genuinely incredulous.
'Just what is the background of this kid?'
'Never mind. Whoever's man he is, since he's seen what he shouldn't have seen, today his bones will be buried here!'
To avoid complications arising from delay, this time he would go all out.
The black-haired middle-aged man's eyes filled with a fierce light.
The surging black death energy in his hand transformed into a bizarrely shaped double-tined fork. Ancient Titan inscriptions were carved into the blades on both sides, radiating a certain solemnity and menace.
Seeing this, Lorne's soul nearly left his body and he immediately raised his hand.
"Wait!"
The double-tined fork didn't show any hesitation and its forward-tilted blades whipped up a fierce ether storm, annihilating everything in its path.
"Your daughter Melinoe is in my hands!"
(End of Chapter)