"Useless..."
Inside the chamber, Prometheus raised his hand and brushed his fingertips across the magic arrays on the table, each one lighting up in turn. As he sensed the messages transmitted from human tribes scattered across the corners of the earth, he gently shook his head.
"Even if you personally captured the Cretan bull today and built a palace for the gods, tomorrow Olympus would issue an even harsher oracle. Day after day, year after year, humanity cannot grow or prosper. Eventually, they will be crushed beneath the weight of endless sacrifices."
Samael and Medusa exchanged glances, their expressions dark and heavy. Zeus, having inherited the wisdom of Metis, was proving to be a far more formidable opponent than expected.
They had only just created humanity on Crete and held the Great Offering—an open strategy to lure the gods with promises, sow division within Olympus, and hasten the decline of the Age of Gods. Yet Zeus had countered by exploiting the gods' insatiable greed for the power of faith, applying relentless pressure to force humanity into ever-greater servitude.
Compared to the lives of mortals, harvesting the power of faith to strengthen themselves was what the gods truly valued. This too was a calculated scheme—one the Divine Spirits could not refuse.
To ensure humanity survived its most fragile beginnings, Prometheus and his allies had already, years prior, dispatched the Typhonian descendants led by the wise Chiron, as well as the Nymphs serving the righteous goddess Themis, to different corners of the land to teach skills and help establish order.
Yet under Olympus's slow and suffocating pressure—like a frog in boiling water—even the tribes secretly protected by the Typhonian offspring and Nymphs were now collapsing under the crushing burden of sacrifice, living in cycles of hunger and despair.
Faced with such a grim situation, Samael had to admit that he had underestimated the Greek gods—and even more so, the cunning of Zeus, the God King.
"Must we wait until humanity is completely broken and extinct?"
Athena glanced back at the industrious mortals weaving cloth, drying pottery, and building homes. Her soft lips pressed together as she murmured. Unlike the arrogant gods who relied solely on power, this Goddess of Wisdom favored humankind—a race that valued humility, learning, and respect for knowledge.
"Tonight, I shall preside over a Great Offering across the entire land. We will pray to the gods!"
Prometheus fell silent for a moment, then smiled as though a plan had taken shape in his mind.
At last, the moment had come.
Samael frowned deeply and placed a hand on the prophet's shoulder, his serpentine pupils narrowing as he fixed his gaze on his friend.
"Son of Iapetus, do you understand what this will cost you?"
For years, Prometheus had acted in the open while Samael and the others worked in the shadows. Together, they had guided humanity toward strength and survival. Through their many meetings and exchanges, their ideals had aligned naturally, forming a bond of mutual understanding and friendship.
He truly did not want to watch Prometheus step willingly into the flames.
"From the moment humanity was created, I foresaw and accepted my fate."
The prophet smiled faintly, unconcerned. He patted Samael's shoulder lightly, his gaze distant and calm.
"Well then, my friend. Tell the children scattered across the land to make ready."
Seeing his friend's mind set, Samael knew words would not sway him. In silence, he rose and left to make preparations.
That night, countless bonfires rose across the human settlements.
Prometheus, chosen to represent all humanity and lead the Great Offering, personally slaughtered a sturdy bull. He divided the sacrifice into two portions.
One pile was covered with dried cowhide and streaked with blood and filth from the entrails—it looked shriveled and barren, but inside lay rich, tender meat and organs. The other pile, wrapped in gleaming white fat and minced flesh, appeared far more splendid in size and color. Yet Samael and the others who arranged it knew the truth—inside, it was filled with nothing but useless bones.
When everything was ready, Prometheus took a deep breath, stepped forward, and activated the Magecraft array that connected to Mount Olympus, the abode of the gods. He cast the parchment inscribed with prayers into the fire.
BOOM!
Upon reading the prayer, Zeus and the gods, after a period of deliberation, answered with a thunderbolt that illuminated the night sky, signifying their approval.
Prometheus then spread his arms and gestured toward the two offerings he had prepared, his voice solemn and calm as he began to speak.
"Great King of the Gods, in the presence of Styx, the ancient goddess of oaths, we beseech you to choose the form of future offerings for the gods according to your will."
For a brief moment, it seemed as though the heavens were deep in contemplation. Then, a golden pillar of light descended from the clouds, enveloping one of the two offerings.
"Rumble..."
Rolling thunder surged through the clouds like a raging dragon. The immense pressure it carried made the humans participating in the ritual tremble, nearly driving them to their knees.
"Your Majesty, God King! Humanity has already given everything to serve the gods. Will you now deny your own decision, break your oath, and shift the blame onto these innocent believers?"
As the ritual came to an end, Prometheus straightened his back. The profound and ancient power of the Titan rippled outward, shielding the humans who could not endure the thunderous might of the divine. His voice, calm and resolute, rang out without fear or subservience.
"Hmph!"
A low, resentful snort echoed across the night sky, but the oppressive thunder that loomed over humanity gradually withdrew, fading into silence.
"Enough. The gods have accepted your offering. Henceforth, this shall be the custom."
"I imagine Olympus now begins its feast. Let us begin ours as well."
Prometheus smiled and turned, gesturing to the succulent beef hidden beneath the oxhide behind him, signaling for the humans to share what remained of the sacrifice.
The leaders then brought out the stored fruits, vegetables, game, and grains, lifting all restrictions and allowing their people to eat freely that night.
The scattered human tribes, witnessing this outcome, could not contain their joy. They embraced one another, cheering and crying with relief as they rushed forward.
Father has truly deceived the gods—we have a path to survive!
On Crete, Deucalion could hardly believe what he was seeing. He watched his people gathered around the bonfires, devouring their food with laughter and tears of joy, his eyes shining with pride and gratitude.
According to the covenant inscribed on the parchment, this was more than a simple offering—it determined the future form of worship itself.
Once, under Prometheus's guidance, humanity had devoted all their harvests to the gods as proof of their faith.
Now, they needed only to offer a symbolic portion according to their means.
Even after presenting fine meat and fruits in a ceremonial offering, they could still share and enjoy the food afterward.
And when meat or fruit was scarce, stones shaped like them could serve as substitutes.
This new form of sacrifice would endure as a sacred vow between gods and mortals, granting humanity the chance to rest and recover at last.
As Deucalion approached his home, the rich aroma of simmering beef drifted from the pot. He inhaled deeply, the scent filling his chest with warmth. A blissful smile spread across his face as he eagerly tasted a few tender pieces.