On an expensive camel hair carpet, a fine copper incense burner sits in the center of the room.

Wisps of smoke slowly drifted and dispersed in the air, transforming into various shapes.

Dressed in plain clothes, Saladin sat in the center of the room and addressed the students: “God is both one and many; both visible and invisible. He is omnipotent, yet humble and courteous.”

Someone said, "The Caliph, Aden the Great, warned us that it is a grave sin to speak ill of God."

Saladin laughed: "Truth does not become false through sophistry, nor does the true God become illusory through discussion. Those who forbid others from speaking of God hold wavering faith in Him. If one is truly a believer in God, what is there to fear from gossip?"

“What we should really be wary of are those wicked people who use the name of God to pursue their own interests,” Saladin said slowly. “Those preachers in the towers should be preaching the truth and educating the people. However, they deliberately distort the scriptures and use difficult and mysterious interpretations to elevate their own status and block the eyes and ears of believers.”

"Whether he is a merchant or a royal nobleman, everyone should have the opportunity to approach God. Remember my words: when you are with those who are illiterate, teach them the greatness of God with simple and easy-to-understand stories and anecdotes; if they are knowledgeable, communicate with them using the scriptures."

Someone else asked, "Caliph, believers often worry that their voices will not reach God's ears, and they complain about why God has not answered their requests."

Saladin said, “God does not grant every believer’s request… Each of us has a past, present, and future like a long thread. When the threads get tangled together, they become a mess. God’s job is to untangle and undo all the knots, ensuring that each thread reaches its destination in the predetermined direction…”

"If the threads of mortals are controlled by God, then what about the threads of God? Who controls His destiny?"

His words caused a stir throughout the room.

Everyone looked at the speaker—a young man whose entire body was covered by a black cloak, revealing only a pale face.

"Shut up! You blasphemer!"

"We should find the guards and throw him in jail!"

"These wicked words are the greatest sin in the world!"

Faced with these accusations, the young man calmly stood up and continued to ask, "Who gave God the task of manipulating the threads of destiny? Who made these threads? Who determined their direction?"

Saladin looked at the young man and said helplessly, "Throat Bone, sit down."

He chuckled softly and said nothing more.

Saladin continued preaching as if nothing had happened.

The sermon ended half an hour later.

Saladin assigned the topic for the next sermon and then dismissed the get out of class.

Soon, only Saladin and the throat bone remained in the large classroom.

Saladin waved away the guards who entered the room and gestured for the man with the throat to sit in front.

Looking at the man with his prominent Adam's apple sitting in front of him, Saladin asked, "How do you feel after listening to my lectures for seven days?"

The man with the throat bone said to Saladin in a mocking tone, "For seven days straight, you've been preaching to a bunch of pigs. I really admire your patience."

Saladin said softly, "You've remained silent for the past six days. Why are you suddenly asking me this today?"

“After listening for six days, I know that I can no longer get the answers I need from your sermons.” The man with the throat bone stared into Saladin’s eyes: “I must ask you in person.”

"If it's the question you just asked, then I can't answer it, because the answer... I don't know either."

Throat Bone stood up: "Don't worry, you can definitely answer the questions I ask."

"What?"

The throat bone asked, enunciating each word clearly: "You've seen the absolute will, haven't you?"

Saladin shuddered, but did not answer.

"Perhaps it doesn't call itself the Absolute Will, but some other name. But its shape is like an inverted triangle, floating in the air. It invites you to participate in a competition called the 'War of the Chosen,' and if you win, you can become the god of the new world."

The man with the throat bone observed Saladin's every move: "I know you were also among those invited."

Saladin closed his eyes and sighed: "Do you really believe that the 'War of the Chosen' can make people gods?"

"Why not believe it? All the prophecies of the absolute will have come true, as you and I have witnessed."

"Prophecy is nothing but the ramblings of illusion; the truth is always hidden behind the fog."

The man with the throat bone narrowed his eyes and asked, "Tell me, why did you betray the Abbasid Empire in the first place?"

Saladin was silent for a moment before replying, "It was out of necessity."

"You suppress and ban multiple religious sects, advocate doctrinal unity, and even go so far as to become enemies with your own clan."

"That's a conflict between religion and state."

The throatbone shook its head: "You are lying. You obtained the vision of the future from the absolute will. The great Southern Empire collapsed in war and civil strife, and the people are suffering and displaced. Your people have gone from being the pride of heaven to being stray dogs hiding in the ruins."

Saladin closed his eyes in anguish.

The throat bone continued, "The only way you can change all this is to win the War of the Chosen Ones."

Saladin said softly, “All of this is blasphemy against God.”

The throat bone said with a laugh, "You and I both know that the gods in this world are nothing but figments of imagination; only the absolute will truly controls everything."

Saladin looked at the Adam's apple: "And what about you? What do you want?"

"After the Absolute Will invited me to participate in the War of the Chosen, I had only one goal: revenge. But soon, before I even won, I had already achieved my goal. In that instant, I suddenly lost my way."

He slowly sat down and let out a long sigh: "For a long time, I've been thinking, what meaning does this battle of the chosen ones have for me?"

“I’ve been searching for the answer until that conversation with you.”

Saladin looked puzzled.

"The so-called Heavenly Father, the so-called Allah, though called gods by mortals, are nothing more than fighting ants in the hands of the absolute will." A strange light gleamed in the throat bone's eyes: "These fighting ants may be glorious for a time, but after millions of years, who will remember their existence?"

Saladin frowned: "What are you trying to say?"

The man with the throat bone took his hand out of his sleeve and extended it in front of Saladin.

There was no skin or flesh to be seen on it, only stark white bones gleaming with an eerie pale blue light.

"I just don't want to be an ant."