Today, the Sun God's divine kingdom buzzed with unusual activity.
Sasrir, the god's right hand, summoned all angels, including the Angel of Dreams.
"What's happening?" Truman, the Angel of Dreams, arrived at a massive sacrificial plaza holding tens of thousands of followers. At its center stood a statue of the Creator.
It depicted the Ancient Sun God, but beyond the blazing sun and veiled shadows, the statue radiated the powers of storm, mind, and knowledge.
This was a true Creator's statue, pointing to the omniscient, omnipotent God. The Ancient Sun God, now holding the Chaos Sea, fully claimed this title.
In the final divine war, he appeared in this form, his sunlight fostering countless Creator devotees worldwide.
"The divine kingdom will descend to the mortal realm," Sasrir announced solemnly to all followers, reading the divine oracle.
"The Lord cannot bear the suffering of all beings. He will merge the heavenly kingdom with the mortal world, saving all!"
As Sasrir spoke, the kingdom's sky revealed a true starry expanse, the entire divine kingdom manifesting within the boundless Astral World.
Twinkling stars and sunlight banished all darkness, the divine kingdom materializing in the mortal realm.
To the people of the physical world, this was the Creator's miracle.
A radiant figure, filling the Astral World and cradling the divine kingdom, descended to a continent, hovering mere hundred meters above the ground in an instant, crossing vast distances.
Like a city of miracles, it floated in the air.
Sunlight cascaded, forming a path of light, linking the divine kingdom to the continent.
"Go, spread the Lord's glory to every corner of the world!" Sasrir commanded the followers gathered in the plaza.
These were all missionaries, many bards among them—perfect for spreading the word!
"Escort the followers," Sasrir instructed the five great angels.
"Yes!" Medici and others nodded gravely. In this era, missionary work wasn't mere rhetoric.
These angels were to perform "miracles," as Truman had done before.
"I'll take this direction," Truman said, eyeing a long line of missionaries heading to a major human settlement.
He felt a subtle intuition about this path, sensing potential discoveries.
Leading the missionaries himself, he moved forward.
He displayed a miracle—angelic wings. Illusory twelve wings formed behind him, gently flapping, casting a glow that shielded the missionaries. This light repelled all monsters and purified countless hearts.
In no time, Truman led the missionaries to their destination.
"As expected, Hermes," Truman chuckled, nodding.
"This is the Amgel of Dreams, the true prophet of humanity! The source of all knowledge!" Hermes sensed an exceptionally holy presence approaching and had prepared to flee the city-state.
Seeing Truman, he was overjoyed.
"This is your work?" Truman looked past Hermes, spotting a group of young men and women. In his perception, they were all Beyonders!
In this era, beyounder characteristics were heavily concentrated. A trip near an ancient god's divine kingdom yielded encounters with many extraordinary creatures.
With Hermes, a saint, guiding them, acquiring characteristics was easy.
These were likely the first humans in history to advance via potions without divine grants, true pioneers of humanity's hope!
Hermes' expression turned serious. "No, this is your achievement!"
"Without you, I'd never have gained this knowledge."
Truman shook his head, but Hermes still regarded himself as a follower.
Truman eyed the group—twenty-two in total, from various pathways?
They were trailblazers of humanity's extraordinary path.
He turned to the missionaries behind him. "Go on in."
Hermes' face shifted, but he didn't try to stop them.
"Humans, especially in this era, need faith," Truman said, reading Hermes' thoughts and shaking his head.
Hermes lived in an age of brutal ancient gods, witnessing countless disasters from their savagery. Psychologically, he couldn't fully commit to any god.
But for humans, faith wasn't harmful, especially when angels and gods needed human "anchors" to stabilize themselves.
In such times, faith in a god brought real protection.
This was vital for today's frail humanity.
"Fellow kin, care to learn about the world's savior, the Creator who made and rules all?"
"He created the world and saved it, awakening from chaos to shelter us, his creations."
"Beneath him are seven great angels…"
The missionaries entered the city-state, preaching the Creator's miracles to all. The divine war wasn't long past, and the helpless fear it caused was etched in every human heart.
The Ancient Sun God's act of protecting the world and shielding all beings scored heavily.
Even those with prior faiths wouldn't resent such a being.
Thus, this missionary effort faced little resistance.
"That being?" Hermes' expression softened upon hearing it was the Creator's faith.
Truman withdrew his gaze. The preaching didn't need his oversight; maintaining an angel's mystery and power here was enough.
He refocused on the Sequence 9 human Beyonders.
"Want to believe in the Dream? It's free, just a little faith," Truman said suddenly, producing the unassuming Book of Dreams.
"If you choose other faiths later, I won't mind."
"Every believer in me will walk further on the sequence path."
Truman let his angelic honorific, annotated with Giant pronunciation, resonate in the young Beyonders' minds.
They all looked to Hermes, awaiting his decision.
"Can I believe in you too?" Hermes asked, stunning Truman.
"…Of course," Truman nodded lightly.
"Very well!" Hermes led the twenty-plus youths in loudly reciting the Dream Angel's honorific.
"Spirit of Truth…"
Instantly, Truman felt a wondrous connection with those before him, Hermes' faith particularly vivid.
"My followers shall be untroubled by madness, returning to the Dream."
It wasn't Truman speaking, but his statue in the Creator's heavenly kingdom. He'd embedded automated responses, drawing on the Book of Dreams to handle routine follower interactions.
(End of Chapter)