"A Beast is humanity's enemy…"
Suren sighed deeply, gazing sorrowfully over Greece, over the entirety of the Age of Gods. "Yet, it is this endless suffering, this apocalyptic despair without an end in sight, that only the Beast, only the Evil, can truly save mankind from."
"If I cannot save Greece in this Age of Gods… does it mean I cannot save humanity from its ultimate end?"
"What I strive for, what I seek to witness, is not a barren, gleaming land of steel!"
Suren's obsession stemmed from humanity's destined extinction—a future bound to end in 2016, transformed into either a Land of Steel or Coral of the Moon.
From antiquity to the present, from the distant East in Serica to the far West in Greece and Rome, from the icy North in Scandinavia to the sweltering South in Egypt and India…
Every civilization protected by gods and their myths knew that humanity's future was an inevitable apocalypse. Yet even gods with boundless wisdom, infinite power, and unparalleled might had resigned themselves to this ultimate conclusion.
Just as they had unanimously accepted the end of the Age of Gods, choosing to withdraw from this lush and vibrant era, leaving it to humanity.
"It's not time yet… not just yet…"
Suren struggled to suppress his beastly nature. Seated upon the Golden Throne, only one arm remained free to move. With unwavering will, he was forging his body into a guiding beacon, binding this era eternally to the Golden Throne.
From this point onward, the Age of Gods would be eternal. But the price? Suren would never leave the throne.
This was the final tyranny of Suren, the Golden King.
Like the omnipotent Zeus of the Lostbelt, he denied humanity's ability to create a new future. By sheer force of will, he decided the fate of Greece and humanity alike, preserving the joy, beauty, and prosperity of the Age of Gods in this moment forever.
Thus, the Age of Gods in Greece would remain immortal. The dead would resurrect, harvests would regrow after being reaped, and rivers would perpetually flow with milk and honey. The pinnacle of the Age of Gods had reached its true zenith.
"Suren, the saviors of Chaldea's Organization for the Preservation of Humanity will soon arrive in this Lostbelt."
Athena, once his eternal supporter, stood before him. In this realm beyond the world, beyond human history, and beyond time, only gods of immense power could tread freely.
"No matter," Suren replied softly, his voice calm. "I have already forged all of Greece."
"I have merged my spirit and will with every inch of this land. Even if the world is destroyed, my mental force alone is enough to perfectly replicate and print a new Age of Gods."
After a pause, he added, "I and the Greek Age of Gods observe one another. This Lostbelt will cling to human history, unremovable."
"The saviors of Chaldea… If she seeks to destroy this Age of Gods, then so be it."
"After all, she is humanity's child, humanity's choice. Even if she drives her blade to my throat, I, Suren, will still love her."
"Suren…" Athena murmured with a sigh.
She gazed at his impassive face, wanting to ask if it was all worth it.
Why not follow the path the other gods set for you and revel in the joy of the Age of Gods?
Why torment yourself, sitting alone upon the Golden Throne? Who could possibly understand your sacrifices?
Yet as Athena looked into his eyes, she let the question go. She already knew the answer.
Yes, it was precisely because Suren was like this that she recognized him, that she chose to follow him—the great hero, the Golden King.
Athena relayed Suren's will to the other gods. Upon hearing it, they sighed, deciding to withdraw from the Age of Gods, leaving for the world's outer realms, never to interfere with this Lostbelt again.
Without Suren's explicit approval, the Twelve Olympians were willing to defend this Lostbelt Suren had sacrificed everything to create. They would have been Chaldea's enemies, resulting in a catastrophic war…
But Suren knew the Twelve Olympians stood no chance of victory. Even in the Lostbelt, where the all-powerful god Zeus retained his physical form and full authority over the Twelve Olympians, he still fell to Chaldea.
Especially now, with Chaldea's Master, Ritsuka Fujimaru, the child Suren acknowledged, wielding the savior's gift from the Saint Kaelar. Her strength had grown, her strategies more unassailable.
When the enemy commander wields power rivaling their main combat force, was there even a point in fighting?
In such circumstances, Suren could only make the reluctant decision to reconcile. He had no certainty that he could perfectly replicate the Twelve Olympians, as he had humanity.
To avoid their needless deaths, Suren commanded the Twelve Olympians to leave this Lostbelt.
With that, the highest combat strength within the Lostbelt was reduced to a single figure—Heracles.
---
"The greatest hero of ancient Greece, Heracles, the unrivaled warrior who completed the Twelve Labors."
Ritsuka Fujimaru stood tall, a sword sheathed at her waist, exuding heroic grace. She faced the towering figure barring Chaldea's path, delivering an ultimatum.
"Will you step aside, and allow me—allow Chaldea—to move beyond this world?"
"The Golden King has entrusted me with his utmost faith."
Heracles, lifting Aurum Altissium high above, loomed like a colossal shadow over Chaldea's group. Yet his presence carried the melancholic weight of a setting sun. He laughed heartily.
"Visitors from beyond this world, here and now, we face an endless battle of life and death."
"If you truly wish to cut down the era the Golden King sacrificed everything to preserve, then first, you must overcome the Emperor's Chief Guard!"
---
"Glory to the Emperor!"
Heracles unleashed his overwhelming might. His strength that could uphold the heavens, his unmatched archery that slew a hundred beasts, his godlike hand-to-hand combat, and his near-limitless stamina—all of it made him an enemy of unparalleled difficulty.
Under the blessings of the Age of Gods and the empowerment of Suren, Heracles now possessed the strength of a Lostbelt King.
Only a Grand Servant could rival him, for even the strongest of standard Servants would be no match for this hero. Especially with the divine weapon Aurum Altissium—a godly bow capable of unleashing arrows of apocalyptic destruction—in Heracles' hands, its power was utterly transcendent.
Even in Greece, where many heroes thrived, Heracles' archery was unparalleled, second only to Suren's mastery.
Heracles had forsaken everything. He was giving his all, desperately defending the legacy Suren left behind for this world.
---
But against Chaldea's relentless attacks, even a hero who could uphold the heavens eventually reached his limit.
The Servants of Chaldea fell and returned again and again, waging an unceasing assault. Eventually, Heracles' immense strength was fully exhausted. He could no longer stand against Chaldea.
The Organization for the Preservation of Humanity—humanity's final bastion and ultimate force of counterattack—ensured that any Lostbelt or singularity met only one end: to be surpassed.
Felled countless times, Heracles finally lay motionless on the ground, utterly drained of strength.
Even in his final moments, he couldn't fathom how he managed to endure for so long. He wondered, had he possessed such power earlier, might he have been able to defeat even Suren?
"Perhaps… it was because of you…"
"My master… my king…"
"Heracles… has failed… I cannot fulfill the task you entrusted to me…"
"If I could see you once more…"
"Please… forgive… such a powerless… me…"
---
Suren lowered his gaze, sighing softly. "So, the end of the Age of Gods has come, after all."
"Still, I do not regret it. I have already realized that all of this…"
"The way to save humanity… Perhaps, now, I understand."
"Thank you, Zeus. Thank you, Hera. Thank you, Athena. Thank you, Hestia, and all the gods who supported me. Thank you for allowing me this beautiful dream."
"But all dreams must end eventually. It's time I did what I was meant to do."
From behind, Hestia's slender arms encircled Suren's neck. The goddess of the hearth, her arms delicate and gentle, held him tightly. Flames of divine fire ignited upon Suren's body, illuminating his spiritual domain.
The sacred flames of Olympus flowed through him like blood. Hestia had poured all her power and authority into Suren.
"Go and do what you must, my Golden King."
Her voice was soft as she smiled. "You belong to human history, not to be shackled by this singular world… Just as before, I will always support your ideals. For I have glimpsed the greatness within you."
The goddess of the hearth, keeper of Olympus' eternal flame, was a relentless idealist. Like her ever-burning fire, her will was unyielding, fervent, and indomitable.
If she couldn't change the world's impurity, she would choose to look away. But if given a chance to create a better world, she would act with more passion than any other god.
Yet even her sacred flame could not rival the radiance of a celestial body. And like any idealist, she was drawn to even higher ideals.
The star known as Hestia was ultimately pulled into the orbit of a greater celestial force, willingly becoming its satellite.
---
Athena supported Suren's upper body and spoke with conviction, "Suren, trust in our power. Leave this to us…"
Turning slightly, Suren saw the other Olympians standing behind him. To date, only one person had ever accomplished the miracle of uniting the Twelve Olympians in agreement. Even now, they were willing to support him and his shattered dream.
The Golden Throne that Suren commanded contained the essence of the entire Age of Gods. With the destruction of the Greek Age of Gods' Lostbelt by Chaldea, Suren's will replaced the laws of nature, becoming the force that governed this divine era.
Suren's spirit sustained all aspects of this Age of Gods: storms, lightning, rivers, oceans, the growth of crops—everything tied to nature required his constant intervention.
At the same time, he expended immense energy suppressing the beastly instincts within himself. A single lapse could reduce the Age of Gods to an infinite blaze of magical energy.
These twin burdens were why Suren could never leave the Golden Throne.
Yet now, the Twelve Olympians, free to depart for the outer realms where they would no longer interfere with humanity, chose to stay behind for his sake, to protect the remnants of his shattered dream.
---
Suren was silent for a moment. A faint smile gradually emerged on his face, and he burst into laughter.
"I am the last of the people of Greece in the Age of Gods. I have witnessed all its glory. As long as I remain here, the Age of Gods has not perished."
"O gods, you shall never be forgotten, for I will always remember you…"
"Place everything on the future, Athena, Hestia, Artemis. If you still believe in me, then let us meet again in the future. I promise you—we will meet again."
---
"...Ugh, is the simulation over?"
Su Kai opened his eyes and stretched, unable to suppress the groan of relief. Spending eternity seated on the Golden Throne, unmoving like a statue, had left him feeling as stiff as a relic of the past.
"Finally, I can move my body again. It feels amazing."
He couldn't help but sigh as he stared blankly at the sky, as if he could still glimpse the faint, golden mirage of the Age of Gods hovering above human history.
"An era of unparalleled prosperity, shimmering like gold... what a beautiful dream. I must thank the gods—they knew the end, yet still indulged me in this fantasy."
Su Kai allowed himself a wry smile. "But beautiful dreams don't last forever. It's time to let go of such childish, naive ideals."
If even the Age of Gods couldn't preserve itself, how could it hope to change the trajectory of human history?
"Poor Heracles…" Su Kai muttered, shaking his head. "All I asked was for you to do your best—to observe if possible, and retreat if necessary. Who knew you'd take it so seriously, as if you truly owed me something?"
He sighed again, this time with a trace of fondness. Su Kai didn't see Heracles' failure as a betrayal of his trust. If anything, he felt indebted to the hero for his unwavering dedication.
"I wonder… how are the gods of the Age of Gods faring now?"
Curious, Su Kai opened the simulator, hoping to glean some insight from the omnipotent wishing machine at his disposal.
[Simulation complete: Golden Age of Prosperity, Supreme Greece of the Age of Gods.]
[Dear Player, all subsequent developments are for you to explore on your own.]
[You have automatically received the template for the Golden King, Suren. Please adapt accordingly.]
"Figures. A simulator that knows nothing!"
Su Kai clicked his tongue and shut off the machine.
While the simulator's power was nearly limitless, it still paled in comparison to the systems of classic golden-finger cheat tools. It left much to interpretation, demanded effort for every breakthrough, and lacked the clairvoyance and omniscience of a furnace system that would spoon-feed its users knowledge and grant celestial constructs with the click of a button.
"System, when are you planning to give me a simulated celestial map, huh?"
He heaved a dramatic sigh. "I've been checking in at so many of the Moonlit World's iconic locations for ages. Where's my reward? Or are you skimming off the top, you little thief?"
Simulator: ...
---
T/N: Only one chapter for today! (dont listen to past wise)
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