Rovi knew quite well that "Xisuthros" was merely the Hellenized name for Ziusudra.
Indeed, the great flood of annihilation was a disaster present in nearly every mythology, be it Mesopotamia, Greece, or even far-off Huaxia. Tales of survivors were never in short supply either.
Still, Rovi hadn't imagined that Ziusudra and Xisuthros were literally the same person. Had he not witnessed it with his own eyes, he would've assumed they were merely two similar, yet distinct individuals of common origin.
Even less expected was encountering him again here, in such a place—
"I told you before, we would surely meet again, and sooner than you thought," the old man spoke calmly, stepping from the shadows. His attire was similar to what he'd worn in Uruk, yet the impression he gave off was entirely different.
Gone was that aura of deep, deathly darkness; instead, he carried an air of an immortal who'd grown indifferent to worldly matters.
Here in Greece, he was just an immortal sage, no longer a being tied to the Netherworld.
"Honestly, how many more identities do you have hidden away?" Rovi asked, genuinely curious.
"Wherever a great flood once destroyed civilization, you'll find traces of me," the old man replied matter-of-factly, stroking his beard. "It's a necessary skill for one who has lived in the Netherworld."
Someone who could spread his alternate identities across the entire globe was undoubtedly remarkable…
"Well, let's go!" Xisuthros adjusted his cloak, lifting his gaze. "Since you're here, I might as well serve as your guide."
Unlike their encounter in Uruk, Xisuthros didn't have any hidden motives this time around. He'd merely waited here because he was familiar with Rovi—someone he at least knew.
Besides, he owed Rovi a favor anyway. Even if it was Rovi's own choice to stop the world-ending calamity, it had also been the outcome he'd secretly hoped for.
"Then I'll gladly accept." Rovi smiled politely in reply. "My thanks, wise immortal."
He'd never lacked manners when courtesy was called for, especially when he genuinely needed the other person's assistance.
Though Rovi knew this was Greece, that was about all he knew. The exact time period, specific location, and regional circumstances remained unknown to him.
Indeed, a guide was exactly what he needed.
After all, to properly die within the "legend" of his own creation, he first needed to find a suitable opportunity. He needed to know precisely where such chances might exist.
Just like when he'd first arrived in Uruk, and spent an entire year in the Pantheon quietly preparing and analyzing the situation.
"This here is a tree. That one there is grass… Ahem—I was just kidding! Young people nowadays, really can't take a joke!" After noticing Rovi's increasingly strange expression, the old man cleared his throat softly.
Rovi promptly raised his middle finger in polite greeting.
Clearly, there was no need to be overly polite here.
But unexpectedly, the old man didn't retort. Instead, he let out a sigh filled with complex emotion:
"The symbol of the Sage…"
"You probably don't know yet, do you?" Xisuthros glanced sideways, beard quivering with laughter once again. "There's a legend circulating in a distant land—about a certain Sage who once resisted the world-ending monster single-handedly as a mortal."
"And this gesture"—he mimicked raising his middle finger—"became the symbol of that Sage's defiant spirit."
"These days, plenty of folks around here take pride in it."
Rovi: "..."
He briefly imagined an entire nation greeting each other by flipping off. Everyone raising their middle fingers upon meeting—
Too bizarre. Way too bizarre.
"Enough of this." The old man grew slightly more serious. "Come on, we'll walk and talk. Let's head toward the nearest city-state—"
Alright, finally back to serious matters.
Similar to the Mesopotamian plains, this land bordered an inland sea called the "Aegean Sea," around which numerous city-states flourished, each belonging to distinct nations, worshipping various gods, yet collectively known under one unified name—Greece.
This was Greece.
Another fertile cradle of civilization.
Yet the atmosphere here felt completely different to Rovi.
As he passed through the forest under the morning sun, something noticed him, a living being, and lunged from the side to attack—only to slam headfirst into an invisible barrier he'd casually conjured. It was a "monster" resembling a lion, but absurdly massive in size.
In these lands, such magical beasts seemed disturbingly commonplace.
"In this place, gods dwell high above, but mysteries roam the earth," Xisuthros explained casually, noticing Rovi's puzzled expression. "Somewhat similar to ancient Uruk, but differing greatly in how gods manifest."
"The gods here… can freely descend upon the earth."
"Because they're not naturally formed deities but steel beings from beyond the sky. They've acquired human emotions from faith and constructed human bodies perfectly suited for incarnation."
Thus, they were lofty gods yet also possessed human vessels, capable of freely walking the earth. This was the greatest difference from Mesopotamian gods, who could only manifest conceptually and struggled to find suitable vessels.
"These magical beasts also arose due to the gods frequently descending into the mortal realm."
Divine manifestation inevitably brought mystery.
"All things evolved because of it; humanity grew stronger because of it."
"Here, those who slay monsters and protect lands are known as heroes."
"Those who act recklessly but receive divine blessings due to their eccentricity—they, too, are heroes."
"Some are born with divine blood, naturally strong."
"The strong are heroes; the weak, mere common folk."
This was Greece's Age of Heroes.
"ROOOAAAR—!"
The magical beast, still blocked by Rovi's invisible gate, kept roaring in frustration.
No one paid it any attention.
Insignificant mongrel. Rovi didn't even bother glancing its way.
Instead, his eyes shone brighter and brighter as the old man continued speaking.
Heroes, heroes...
Clearly, in Greece, being a "hero" was a profession with notoriously high mortality rates.
Because heroes drew divine attention.
And the more one was noticed by the gods, the worse their fate usually turned out.
"I've decided…" Rovi stopped abruptly, suddenly declaring with conviction, "I'm going to become a Greek hero!"
"Hahaha—still as reckless and willful as ever!" Xisuthros laughed heartily, not the slightest bit surprised.
Though known as a Wise Sage with extraordinary intelligence, the old man always knew clearly in his heart—
The man standing before him and the current "Mortal King of the Underworld" of Uruk were fundamentally the same kind of person:
Willful, arrogant, utterly reckless.
Well, in that case…
"As your guide, allow me to recommend someone to you," Xisuthros suddenly suggested. "His name is Chiron, a distinguished centaur-hero who's taught countless famed heroes, widely renowned as the 'Teacher of Heroes.'"
"If you go to him, you'll certainly find exactly what you're looking for."