Chapter 256: He, the First King of Rome!
Mars, the God of War in Roman mythology, had little of his mind focused on the eighth round.
His thoughts were entirely occupied with how to gather all of humanity's faith afterward, making himself the sole god.
Currently, according to his estimation, the faith received by Roman mythology accounted for less than five percent of the total human population—no, it should be even lower.
Yes, it seemed that minuscule.
But one must remember that humanity numbered around six billion people. Even five percent of that would be three hundred million—a considerable number.
And with faith from just under three hundred million people, it was possible to create an existence akin to a top-tier chief god.
So one could imagine what kind of being could emerge if all six billion people believed?
Perhaps an existence like the primordial gods?
No, even greater.
Moreover, while spreading his mythological system to gain this population's faith, he also mixed in some personal agendas, such as implying that gods from other mythologies were not all that impressive, somewhat belittling them.
And it did have a slight effect.
Of course, he was testing this with very weak pantheons.
Thus, this kind of faith power subtly distorted human perception and even genuinely altered the world's cognition—it was overwhelmingly powerful.
By then, he might truly become the one and only god in the truest sense.
Hmm? Heimdall's startled voice snapped the God of War Mars out of his thoughts.
Just as he was about to introduce the human representative, why did he look so disheveled?
As if he had coincidentally noticed him, their eyes met, and then Heimdall cast a pitying gaze his way?
What did that mean?
Pitying him?
Was it because of the fifth round, when that bastard Loki's Fenrir had killed many of his gods?
That gaze was truly irritating!
Just as he was about to continue pondering how to make other gods more willing to let him manage humanity, Mars suddenly noticed that it wasn't just Heimdall's gaze—several other gazes, from chief gods like Buddha and Ra, were also filled with pity.
Something was off. It wasn't just pity—there was also mockery and schadenfreude?
What did this mean?
It was utterly infuriating!
Just wait—when the time came, he would deal with these bastards first!
"The human representative is this—!"
Who?
Heimdall pointed toward a certain location, where an even larger giant dragon stood. On its back was a row of VIP god seats—special seats reserved for chief gods.
Some of these seats were empty because their occupants had fallen in battle!
Of course, a few chief gods hadn't shown up, such as those from the Amatsukami pantheon or the Roman mythology pantheon.
So, what was Heimdall pointing at?
If his finger wasn't misaligned, it was pointing straight at the chief god seat representing Roman mythology.
And this seat didn't belong to Jupiter. In Mars's reports, he had claimed it belonged to their new-generation chief god, Quirinus.
When discussing his pantheon's chief god with other mythologies, he had deliberately and subtly mentioned that the current chief god was Quirinus, gradually sidelining Jupiter without explicitly stating it.
And over time, the other gods had come to accept this as natural, without suspicion.
Such was the power of faith!
"In his human form, he was a king whose created nation left a profound impression on humanity to this day! The name of his nation is still inherited today as the capital of a country, the city with the most concentrated religious activity among humans!"
As usual, instead of immediately revealing the human representative, he first introduced the deeds with some suspense.
"The name of a country's capital?"
"Is it the name of an ancient nation?"
"And the city with the most concentrated religious activity among humans?"
Irina, Le Fay, and Rossweisse all murmured to themselves.
Such hints were quite obvious, narrowing down the possibilities significantly.
Before the eighth round began, they had traveled around the human world and gained a general understanding of its situation, especially regarding religion, which they investigated more thoroughly—many aspects were similar to their own world.
To satisfy all the above conditions—
"Isn't that the Vatican?"
Irina was the first to speak up.
No—
"It's Rome."
Irina corrected herself.
"In that case, the one representing humanity is the first king of Rome—Romulus!"
Serafall said this, revealing an intrigued expression.
Regarding Roman mythology, the others probably hadn't looked into it carefully, but she had delved into it deeply.
It was said that Romulus had a subtle relationship with the chief god of Roman mythology.
Some said Romulus was actually the incarnation of Quirinus, the chief god of Roman mythology, descending to earth to guide humanity while also undergoing his own trials, eventually re-ascending to godhood.
Others claimed Romulus was the son of Mars, the God of War, making him a demigod.
After a series of trials, he became a true deity and later grew so powerful that he directly ascended to the position of supreme god in the Roman Pantheon...
Initially, Serafall hadn't paid much attention to these stories, as some humans in this world, to satisfy their own vanity, deliberately fabricated baseless tales by forcibly linking historical human figures with mythological ones.
But now, it seemed these weren't baseless stories after all.
Otherwise, why would Heimdall become so agitated upon learning the human representative?
Otherwise, why would he point forcefully toward the seat of the chief gods?
Otherwise, why would he specifically emphasize "in his human form" during the introduction?
"In his divine form, he sits upon the throne of the supreme god in a pantheon!"
Ha! This follow-up introduction indeed confirmed that it wasn't a baseless story.
"Wait, hold on?"
"Heimdall, what are you saying?"
"What do you mean 'in his human form' and 'in his divine form'? There's no such being."
"No, it exists—Buddha, it's Buddha!"
"No, what's going on? Buddha is a god now—is he going to fight on behalf of humanity?"
The divine audience grew chaotic.
"Wait, that doesn't quite fit either. When Buddha descended to earth as a human, he didn't found a new nation."
"And the name of his nation is still the capital of a human country today, the city with the most concentrated religious activity—"
"That sounds like Rome, doesn't it?"
Hearing this, Mars, the God of War, paled, his heart filled with extreme panic and unease.
He was extremely restless, damn it!
This was his greatest concern—that Brunhilde might discover some traces through the Akashic Records.
After all, several kings had appeared as human representatives, and he was worried they might come looking for him too.
But even if they were to be summoned, although they could be called forth, without his command, they simply wouldn't act, right?
What Mars feared most was that these gods might uncover something and detect his schemes.
"Wait, I've heard some things in the human world."
"Could it be that those aren't false?"
Some gods had more contact with humans and were thus more familiar with the myths and stories circulating among them.
So they couldn't help but exchange glances—was it actually true?
Just then, the VIP seat reserved for the chief god of the Roman Pantheon began to glow.
The previously empty seat was now occupied by a figure!