Chapter 2239: The Divine Decree |
Jenkins clutched the great book in his hands. The golden tome absorbed all his knowledge and power, merging with the two fragments of the Creation Slate. Oviya was right; he had already seen this information within the slate fragments. He just couldn’t be certain, couldn’t dare to believe it.
But this world, in Jenkins’s eyes, was simply too good to lose. Its order, its rules—everything was so well-established, brimming with potential. The system was nearly perfect.
“So,” he began, “my arrival has disrupted the original arrangement. The plan now is...”
“For you, the current God of Lies, to ascend at the end of this epoch and become the eighteenth Sovereign!”
The Lord of Blossoms finally spoke, her voice confirming a matter already decided.
“But I...”
Jenkins began, intending a modest refusal, but then he remembered he was among gods. Humility was pointless.
“But I don’t possess that kind of power. I'm not even a complete god yet. Oh, it's not that I wish to shirk such a duty, not that I'm unwilling to bear the responsibility. In fact, if the world needs me, I could...”
He trailed off, his thoughts shifting mid-sentence.
With that, he invoked his final ability.
“Knowledge Bestowal.”
Two silver bands of light, like rushing galaxies, swirled around Jenkins. But this time, he didn't flick a finger. Instead, he watched as the two ribbons, representing all his knowledge and memories, merged with the golden tome in his arms.
Silver patterns now traced across the golden book's cover. Even though neither of Jenkins's two divine domains was related to Knowledge, he understood that if he so wished, he was worthy of claiming that title. After all, he held the complete knowledge of a world.
“It is good that you understand, Jenkins. Your circumstances are unique, and we have deliberated on your arrangement. But before the final decree is announced, we imagine you still have many questions. Now is your chance. Ask what you have always wondered. And, as a reward for saving the Eighteenth Epoch, you may, as a mortal, make three wishes of us. So long as they do not endanger the world, any three wishes will be granted.”
The Sovereigns spoke in unison. Jenkins gazed out at the sea of stars, momentarily at a loss for words. He looked at the gods, at the scene before him.
“First, I must ask about my eyes. This ability I have to perceive any spiritual aura—what is its nature?”
“It is the power of your soul. By manifesting in the material world, you possess a status equivalent to a Sovereign, granting you a vision beyond that of mortals.”
The Sovereign of Time, the Unbroken Circle, answered.
“Then what about the Month’s End Whisper? Why do I hear those voices at the end of every month?”
“The Righteous Gods hold dominion over the flow of time, and the end of the month is a crucial nexus in the cycle of their power. Your soul is of a higher order, and at such times, it instinctively turns to gaze upon the forms that mortals cannot perceive.”
The one who answered was the Holy Silver Sovereign, the ruler of the Sixteenth Epoch, whom Jenkins had never encountered before.
“And do the Righteous Gods know I'm watching them?”
“Of course they know.”
Oviya said. Jenkins blushed slightly and asked another question.
“Every time I experienced a Mysterious Realm, I received an extra gift. From the very first concealing cloak to the final nine jeweled coins... there must be a reason for that, right?”
“You should know that Mysterious Realms are fragments of space, not complete worlds. But each realm possesses a consciousness, and they too wish to grow into true worlds. And you, a mortal with the potential of a Sovereign, are their best choice. The realms offer you gifts in the hope that you will choose them, integrating them into your future world to become part of a complete whole.”
The Ancient God of Death replied. For a moment, Jenkins thought he saw the figure of Mr. Augustus standing beside this Sovereign's throne.
“So that’s how it is...”
He murmured, once again unsure of what to say. He had so many questions, but now that he knew the world's secrets, they suddenly seemed insignificant. He thought for a moment, left with only one final query.
“And...”
He pulled out Alexia’s ladies' pocket watch and glanced at it. Though the Mysterious Realm had shattered, a touch of the watch was enough for him to instinctively know the time in the material world.
“In about ten minutes, it will have been exactly one year since I arrived in this world. So much has happened, but for the story to end on the last day of that year... is there some deeper reason for this?”
In truth, the one who had chosen this day for the final battle was the Difference Engine. But with the machine now sealed, Jenkins couldn't ask it.
“Perhaps you can consider it fate.”
The Righteous God of Destiny, the Hermit of Fate, answered.
“To begin on the same day it ends. You were born of a higher order, and in one year in the material world, you experienced a mortal lifetime and achieved great deeds. For you, that is enough.”
“It wasn’t a special arrangement you made?”
Jenkins confirmed.
“Absolutely not.”
Mr. Prankster's tone was so cheerful it made Jenkins wonder if he should believe him at all.
“Do not dwell on it. Fate exists in this world, so there will always be events that seem coincidental. But all happenstance is merely an accumulation of inevitability. You have likely experienced this for yourself by now.”
The Tenth Sovereign, the Guardian of Misfortune, advised. Jenkins nodded in understanding.
“Very well, then. I have no more questions. If I think of anything else in the future, I will come and ask again.”
“Then what are your wishes?”
The Sovereign of Demons, the King of Transgressions, inquired. This one looked particularly terrifying.
“I would like to know the arrangements for me first, and then I will state my wishes.”
“Of course.”
Oviya said. She gestured forward with her hand, and in the sea of stars, an unfurled parchment scroll appeared before every god and Sovereign, including Jenkins. As the goddess of knowledge and tradition, it was usually her role to announce important decisions on such grand occasions. The scrolls were the written version, for easier reading.
“Mortal Jenkins Redemptor Williams, you have fulfilled your duty as the Savior. According to the rules established by the gods at the dawn of time, you are permitted to become a god. The gods will aid you in igniting your divine fire, drawing upon divinity, and acquiring a divine domain.
However, you are already the God of Lies, the 366th trailblazer in this world to carve out a new path as a pseudo-god. Therefore, the process of your apotheosis can be bypassed.
Outlander, you carry the knowledge of another world and have willingly chosen to integrate into this one. By the decree of the gods, you shall receive the station of the eighteenth Sovereign. With the qualifications of a Sovereign and a god overlapping, the following arrangements have been made for you—
Due to your insufficient power, you are permitted to continue walking the material world...”
For some reason, Jenkins thought Oviya winked at him.
“You are to help the civilization of the Eighteenth Epoch recover from the cataclysm and conclude all responsibilities you carry as a mortal. The gods have decreed that the Eighteenth Epoch has one hundred and fifty-five years remaining. During this time, you may reside in the material world to perfect your power as a god on your own.”