Chapter 973 — The Dragon God's Last Question

"That is my view—gods and mortals can be enemies, and they can also coexist; they can clash in conflict for a time, and they can also reach equilibrium under particular conditions. The key lies in how to achieve these things through reason and logic rather than dogma.

"I am not one of the Voyagers, nor am I a Defier of the old Gondor Empire, so I will not take the extreme view that all gods must be destroyed. On the contrary, having learned more and more of the truth, I even feel... a certain respect for the gods.

"Because whatever the final outcome, at least in the long history from civilization's benightedness to its rise, the gods have always sheltered mortals—just as in your first story, the slow-witted mother is, in the end, still a mother.

"But on the other hand, I must also give priority to the survival of the mortal world. So when faced with gods who cannot coexist, faced with 'mad gods' who have already slipped beyond control, we still have only one choice..."

Gao Yang paused for the moment, and the Dragon God took on a thoughtful look. After a brief consideration, she broke the silence: "So you neither wish to end the myth nor to maintain it; you wish neither to choose opposition nor simply to coexist. You hope to build a dynamic system that adjusts in real time with reality, to replace fixed dogma. And you also believe that even while maintaining a coexistence between gods and mortals, civilization can still advance..."

"Amorn is still alive, yet druidic technology has already developed to the point of overturning more than half of the classic dogmas. Mirmena is still alive, and we are researching ways to break through the traditional elements of spellcasting using external nervous systems," Gao Yang said. "Of course, these are only very small steps. But since these steps can be taken, it shows this direction is viable—"

"Only temporarily viable," the Dragon God said quietly. "Have you considered that in the eyes of the gods such a balance is in truth brief and fragile—take the matters you just described. If people rebuild the druidic or the magical faith, reconstruct a system of worship, then these 'transgressions' currently proceeding so smoothly will still come to an abrupt halt..."

"Even if Amorn and Mirmena were to fall completely, so long as mortals rebuild their faith, new gods of nature and gods of magic will still be born," Gao Yang said without hesitation. "So the key to the problem does not lie with the gods. It lies with people."

"...An interesting notion," the Dragon God said unhurriedly. "Then how will you solve this problem of 'the key lying with people'?"

"Enlighten the people—that is what I am doing," Gao Yang said without hesitation. "Replacing benightedness with reason—that is the most effective method at this stage. If, before the chains take shape, every person in the world knows the principle of the chains, then the chains cannot take shape."

"That is easier said than done," the Dragon God suddenly laughed, though there was not the slightest mockery in that smile. "Do you know? In fact, you are not the first to think of doing this."

Gao Yang said nothing, only watched her quietly.

"The last person to realize that opening the people's minds could counter the chains was a leader of the civilization two seasons back. Before him, the one who tried to counter the chains by enlight'ning the whole populace was a thinker from about a million years ago. And there were four more... or five remarkable mortals who likewise came to grasp certain 'principles' as you have, and tried to set change in motion through action...

"But unfortunately, none of these great people succeeded."

Gao Yang listened as the Dragon God recounted all this calmly. These were secrets unknown to any but certain ancient beings, things the mortals of the present age could not even imagine; yet in a sense, none of it had surpassed his expectations.

One million eight hundred seventy thousand years—there would always be warriors who rose one after another, always other sages and heroes.

Perhaps his overly calm manner had rather surprised the Dragon God, for after finishing, the latter paused a moment, then continued: "So then, do you think you can succeed?"

"I want to confirm one thing first—did they fail because there is something wrong with the path itself?"

"...I do not know, for no one walked it to the very end. They were already too late when they set out, and so no one could witness what result this path would ultimately yield."

"So the path is still there," Gao Yang smiled. "Someone has to walk it sooner or later—perhaps other paths exist in this world, but unfortunately, mortals are creatures of limited strength and wisdom. We cannot walk every path, only choose one and try. I choose to try this one—if I succeed, wonderful; if I fail, I only hope others will still have the chance to seek out another way."

The Dragon God gazed quietly at Gao Yang, and the latter quietly met the deity's gaze in return.

"I am surprised," the Dragon God finally said with a shake of the head and a smile. "At first I actually thought you would choose the path of the Trailblazers... You are close to those legacies, and the most likely to unearth power from them, perhaps even to call that mighty fleet back. Yet among all your ideas, the legacies never once appeared."

"The Trailblazers have already departed—whether or not they will return, I prefer to assume they will not," Gao Yang said frankly. "They... were indeed powerful, powerful enough that the mortals of this planet stand in awe of them, but in my view, their path may not suit any race other than their own.

"I did once consider unearthing some power from those legacies, but after learning of the events concerning one million eight hundred seventy thousand years ago, I came to realize something—

"Some things, once missed, are simply missed. In the end, what mortals can rely on is still only their own strength—in the end, we must still forge a path of our own."

Faint holy radiance drifted above the hall, and an ethereal echo, now present now absent, came from what seemed a very distant place.

The Dragon God smiled and offered no further judgment, asked no further questions. He merely pointed at the pastries on the table: "Have some—you will not find their like anywhere beyond Tarronde."

Gao Yang did not decline. He tasted a few of the unknown pastries, then rose to his feet.

"I should be going," he said. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"I am glad to have had such a chance to talk freely with someone," the elegant and beautiful deity likewise rose. "I no longer remember when I last spoke with anyone like this."

"Actually, it was just yesterday," Gao Yang's heart stirred, and he found himself wanting to joke with the deity. "And it was with me."

For the first time, the Dragon God was taken aback.

The next second, He broke into an extraordinarily delighted laugh.

It was a laugh of genuine joy, utterly unlike those earlier smiles—holy yet indifferent, gentle yet aloof.