Chapter 279
—
– Do not put this in your mouth. Do not convey it with words, nor leave it in writing. I allow no one but you to know this; hence, it is solely your duty. Your failure will be the first and last failure of your world. There will be no more chances in your world.
– When the myriad gods first wandered this land, they named it the Crucible. It became a forge for lost souls and a whirlwind for the souls of all things in this world.
– A long time has passed, too short to be called by the gods. All mortals sought answers; the mortals from the distant sea buried their continent beneath the waves, and those beneath the earth called what they created “gods,” while those gathered at the world’s end merely revered strength.
– And you have created me. The last god born of this land, I say, how pitiable you are. You are but puppets enacting a different form of the same tragedy as the gods lived through.
– Thus, I have pondered for a long time. To simply call this land “land,” and the sky “sky.” I hope for the day when you will call the celestial bodies you gaze upon the sun, the moon, and the stars.
– Now you are my last chance, and your success will bring freedom to you all; your failure will mean the end of you.
“But I am just an ordinary person. How can I….”
– Did any hero born from the old myths and legends of your land not begin as ordinary? Even if born extraordinary, can that truly prove the exceptional nature of their existence? The success of the exceptional is, instead, an ordinary affair; when an ordinary person’s deeds become extraordinary, we shall call it a great feat. Only achievements not deemed by fate can save a world borne of fate.