Myth: I am God!

Chapter 109 The Shadow of Legend

Mount Olympus, the Pantheon.

Under the witness of the gods in the clouds.

Poseidon, the god of the sea, had his authority and divine power sealed away by Zeus, the king of the gods, with thunderbolts.

He was stripped of his Aquaman crown and his golden trident was taken away.

His hair was disheveled, and he looked like a guilty man, wearing only a black linen robe.

Then he was pushed off the clouds...

At the same time, the warlike Ares was stripped of his spear and shield, armor and helmet by the Father God, and fell to earth like a falling star. The priests of Sparta, the city of war, lost the divine revelation in that instant and felt only fear and panic.

However, on that day, the Spartans saw a golden-red meteor fall from the sky.

In the crater filled with flames and black smoke, a robust figure, as sculpted as a statue, slowly rose from the dust.

And at almost the same time that the gods were banished to the mortal realm...

The Son of Canaan in the fire, Isaac Messiah.

They had arrived at a square in the city of Argos, where the inextinguishable fire, summoned by Saint Zak, still burned.

It's gone out.

Some people walking in the square were suddenly startled by this sight and rushed to the temple to ask Saint Zack what had happened.

Saint Zak had already opened his eyes from his meditation and was looking in the direction of the Argos city gate.

There stood a figure draped in a golden cloak and carrying a black longsword.

They had already entered the city.

The citizens of Argos sized up the strangely dressed young man; some of the older ones inexplicably felt...

The cloak looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place what it was.

Isaac also looked around the prosperous city with curiosity. This was his first time here. In the past, it was mostly Perseus and his companions who came to Canaan, but now he had come to Argos himself, and he had a novel experience in his heart.

The entire capital city was tall and magnificent. Canaan was actually one of the wealthiest and largest villages, but compared to the grand and prosperous city of Argos, Isaac still felt like a country bumpkin in the city...

Horse-drawn carriages sped along the wide road, and various shops lined both sides of the street, including pharmacies, blacksmith shops, and even weapons shops...

A bustling crowd of merchants from all over the continent gathered on this street, bringing local specialties. Each merchant boasted about their unique product; one even claimed that they had stolen the finest olives from the palace of the King of Athens.

The Corinthians, however, said they were selling gold jewelry and white cloth worn close to the bodies of stunningly beautiful women;

The people of the Southern Continent boasted that they braved sandstorms to snatch the most delicious spices, the spices that could transport one to the most beautiful dreams, from the jaws of monsters in the vast desert...

Under Dicttis's rule, Argos prospered.

Argos broke free from the distorted development path driven by slavery and war under its previous king.

The shift towards a balanced and healthy economic development has led to the flourishing of all sectors.

The citizens' mental outlook is also different from that of 2,000 years ago; they are more positive and kinder.

And perhaps not much has changed since twenty years ago, except for the prostitutes who always sway and dance seductively in the tavern.

The tavern's drunks raised their glasses high.

As Isaac passed by, the drunkards whistled at him and mumbled drunkenly, "Hey kid, you're dressed like a hero! Do you dream of being a hero yourself?!"

"Let me tell you a secret: I once wanted to be a hero, and I've been on many thrilling adventures."

"Until, I took an arrow to the knee!"

Isaac gave the drunkard a deep look.

He then stole another glance at the prostitutes dancing in the depths.

He then sighed and continued forward...

According to Isaac's plan, he intended to go to the palace first to explain the conspiracy he had learned about in the bandit camp to Perseus and Dick, so that they could purge the traitors from within and prepare for war.

Then they went to the armory and blacksmith to forge a batch of weapons and equipment, transported them back to Canaan, and armed the people of Canaan so that Canaan would also have some military strength...

However, on the way to that towering palace deep within the city...

He passed by the square in Argos.

In that square stood a magnificent bronze-gilded statue.

The statue holds aloft a lion's head in one hand, as if roaring to the heavens, with a flowing golden cloak behind it that gleams in the sunlight...

Some citizens were devoutly worshipping the statue, holding bunches of red roses, while a priest stood by, holding a papyrus book, telling the citizens and tourists about this legendary past.

Isaac stared blankly at the golden statue in the light.

He was irresistibly drawn to it, and pushed through the crowd to get closer...

He pushed aside some citizens.

But when they saw the golden cloak draped behind him, identical to that of the statue...

The impatience in my heart instantly turned into surprise and doubt.

A bold citizen tugged at Isaac and asked, "Brother, you must be a fanatical hero worshipper..."

'

"Where did you order this cape?"

"It's exactly the same as the one on that statue."

But Isaac turned around and said, "No, it wasn't custom-made."

It was left to me by my father...

The citizen stood there, stunned.

Isaac's figure slowly walked to the statue of the hero.

The citizens were left with only one question: "Who is he?"

For Isaac, the legend of his father was something he had only heard about from the older generation; he was aware of it, but he didn't have a strong, intuitive feeling about it.

However, when he saw with his own eyes the bronze statue standing in the Royal Square, and the scene of the statue being worshipped by the people, he was deeply moved.

Only then did he directly feel the profound weight of that legend.

The statue shimmered in the light, and rose petals drifted in the breeze.

Poets wrote epic poems to commemorate the past.

And this time.

The priest interrupted his thoughts and said to Isaac, "Go to the temple."

"Prophet Zac, we've been waiting for you there..."

'

Isaac paused as the priest spoke.

Then I looked up and saw the magnificent temple behind the square.

The temple was made entirely of marble and gold paint, in a style reminiscent of Greek temples.

After listening to the priest's words, Isaac walked towards the temple, leaving only his back view.

The citizens were puzzled by this person and discussed it among themselves.

Just then, someone said, "The fire on the altar has gone out."

Suddenly, everyone froze, realizing that the altar fire had been lit by the prophet Zak, who had foretold that "the fire will only be extinguished on the day the Son of Fire returns..."

Could it be...?

...?

Just as the citizens were beginning to make bold guesses.

The priests beneath the hero's statue knelt before Isaac's retreating figure, shouting—

"You people, protected by heroes!"

"He is a descendant of Ara Messiah!"

"The burnt offering that God forgave...the sons of Canaan in the fire!"

That was the answer in the hearts of the citizens.

They stared at that figure for a long time, speechless.

Some of the older people stared intently at that retreating figure, their eyes seemingly glistening with tears...

It was as if they had seen that legendary figure returning with a lion's head under the moonlight on that night eighteen years ago.

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