Chapter 281 Half a Year
Owl, who had never been insulted like this, almost jumped up and started cursing. He was always a belligerent and aggressive guy, whether it was a verbal or physical fight. But a strange sense of gloating overcame his instinct to fight back, causing Owl to raise his head, narrow his eyes, and glance back and forth at the others.
"Why, Mr. Rabelais," he said, feigning surprise, "have you never paid attention to the interpersonal relationships and emotional state of your dearest student? And you still want me, an 'outsider', to tell you?"
As revenge for robbing the student, he deliberately emphasized the word "outsider".
The old dean looked so angry that he wanted to grab his cane and hit him on the head.
Nova, who was standing by, was startled by the old man's sudden flushed face and raised voice. He was a little confused and didn't quite understand why his teacher was so excited.
The black-haired young man frowned and took a step forward, trying to separate the two old men who were at loggerheads and whose combined ages were over a hundred years old. "I don't think now is the time to discuss my personal relationship issues."
This was tacit agreement. Rabelais felt his vision go dark, he clutched his chest, refused the student's help, tremblingly groped for the armrest of the chair, and slowly sat down.
The troubled child continued to mutter, "...perhaps we should get back to business?"
How could this not be business?! Rabelais was furious, but the child still had a blank and innocent expression, which made him wonder if the so-called "lover" relationship was achieved under the deception of the god.
He was not the kind of heartless old man who would strictly control students' life plans for the sake of so-called "academics". If a student was willing to find a girl to marry and have children, regardless of her family background or appearance, as long as the girl had good character, was considerate and the student liked her, Rabelais would definitely give his blessings.
Even if he really liked men - even if Rabelais didn't understand, he would never react as strongly as he did now.
…But look what that damn kid found! A—god! It was a terrible choice.
"Prophets," versed in the history of the gods throughout history, best understood the true character of these "gods." Setting aside the gods' vastly overextended lifespans, their sheer power naturally led them to view humans as mere amusement, a means of dispelling the boredom of the long years. This disparity couldn't even be compared to "slave owner and slave"—it was more like "naughty child and ant."
Even if we exclude those extremely cruel gods, gods who enjoy teasing humans, and gods who simply love beauty and enjoyment, even those gods who are generally recognized as the most gentle and kind, their human lovers will still not end up well.
When God decides to withdraw this favor, even if he can endure the huge physical and mental disparity and return to his family and friends, God's enemies or even another god will try to play with the out-of-favor plaything to insult and mock God; God's fanatical followers will rush to try to kill the poor guy who is suspected of angering God and is cruelly abandoned.
Few gods would make a big fuss over a toy they have lost interest in.
Even if, in their limited time together, this young new god had indeed performed impeccably so far—but what about the passage of time? What about his rising status? Even his aging appearance? Gods are human, too, with their own inherent flaws. So how can one bet on whether the human heart can withstand the vicissitudes of time?
...In terms of emotions, this gifted student was completely ignorant and clueless. His ignorant mother was completely unreliable. As the only close and reliable elder, Delos Rabelais could never allow his beloved student, with such an innocent heart, to fall into such a fatal end without any defense.
But now was not the right time to discuss this matter with anyone. Rabelais glared fiercely at the owl watching the show, then glanced at the god beside him who was always smiling faintly but showed no emotion.
The old man had a gloomy face and slowly exhaled: "Okay, let's talk business first."
Nova blinked, completely unaware of what earth-shattering mental hurricane had erupted in his teacher's mind. Although he was still a little confused, he was happy that things were back on track.
He turned to look in Azuka's direction: "Then let's take a look at this...the curse of the goddess of fate?"
…
God.
The King of Kings, towering above countless great monarchs of humanity, His will is the will of all laws, His breath the breath of the world's destiny. Under His gaze, all mighty empires are but fleeting fireworks in His palm, and all civilizations that claim to be eternal are but sandstone built from coarse pebbles.
These are the words of the doctrine, sung and chanted devoutly by countless believers for thousands of years - until one person finally stood up.
God is man, he said.
… God is man, they say.
The young new god's eyes turned into a dazzling golden color that was too bright to look directly at. Owl broke out in a cold sweat. He felt as if he was being ripped open alive, and his legs almost gave way and he fell to the ground.
"Something is preventing me from seeing into your soul." Azuka said thoughtfully, so that he had not noticed much clues before.
"The silk of the Fate Spider." The owl forced a smile and said, "This is the only relic that the goddess of fate, Lamodo, left for her believers after her death. I survived by relying on these little things."
"I can break the curse. You haven't fully met the conditions for triggering the curse, so its power hasn't reached the level of world laws." The blond god said bluntly.
But before the owl could show any ecstasy, he continued, "But these spider silks have already wrapped your soul tightly. I must untie them first, and then break the curse."
"If you had come to me right after the curse was triggered, nothing would have happened—but here's the problem. Over the past few decades, your soul has been eroded by the spider silk, shattered and unable to bear the weight. It's almost entirely supported by the silk." The smile on the owl's face gradually froze. The god's eyes stared at him indifferently, and the words he spoke were extremely cruel: "In other words, even if you appear to be healthy now, as soon as these spider silks are untied, your soul will be shattered and die immediately. There will be no chance of recovery."
Silence.
After a long while, the owl asked in a hoarse voice, "...How long can I live?"
At this moment, he seemed extremely calm.
"No more than half a year."
Being given hope in despair, and then having that hope completely destroyed, was enough to drive anyone crazy. But the owl only gave a hoarse, strange chuckle. He hadn't expected to be so calm after learning of his own death. Unlike Oliver, who was obsessed with becoming a god, he was calm. It was as if he had just heard bad news that he had expected.
"If I become a god..." the owl said slowly, but before Azuka could answer him, he closed his eyes and let out a long breath: "No, a god is still human. Even if I become a god, I will still retain a broken human soul. What can I change?"
Besides, there is enough time.
"Sir, speaking purely as a scholar, I have a question. I wonder if you would be willing to answer it." The owl bowed its head solemnly and humbly. "I'm curious: how can a human become a god?"
At this moment, he was just a devout seeker of knowledge who ran towards the white tower called truth regardless of anything, holding on to the most essential desire for knowledge.
Rabelais barely managed to recover from the overwhelming amount of information. His eyes instinctively lit up for a moment, but were quickly suppressed by the light of reason. The old man stood up and tried to drag the student away, but the god politely stopped him.
"It's okay, you can continue listening." The other party said gently, "It's not a big deal."
Rabelais: “…”
Isn't this a big deal?! He stared at a certain god in disbelief. He believed that all the sorcerers in the world, regardless of strength or status, would pay any price to learn this answer—
"I can't provide you with much information, because I don't know either," the God of Struggle and Change said simply. "The only thing I can tell you is not to believe in any particular god. Instead, personally create a very strong and lasting resonance between your soul and a certain idea, until you gradually become the idea itself."
"...Just like that? Just that simple?"
"It's that simple."
Of course, doing it isn't as easy as saying it. Even if one were to take the trouble to believe in a deity, resonate with the ideals it represents, and reduce the difficulty of cultivation, the number of people who could become saints would still be very small. This is enough to show that the gods born in ancient times were all the chosen ones of their time.
After a breathtaking silence, the owl suddenly burst into laughter. He laughed so hard that his voice seemed hoarse, like a night owl crying sadly and absurdly in a deserted wilderness.
—The Holy See! The Temple! So this is what you're trying so hard to stop?!
He laughed so hard that tears came out, as if Oliver hadn't laughed so heartily in a long, long time since he turned into that half-human, half-ghost appearance. The satisfaction of knowing the truth completely swept away the depression in his chest, making him completely happy, as if he was floating lightly in the clouds, even if the price was to be hit hard in the mud the next second.
The owl suddenly stopped smiling. The pair of sparkling eyes on his face, twisted to the left and right corners of his forehead, stared fixedly in Nova's direction, even brighter than the pair of gem eyes.
"Six months! I still have six months." The current president of the Oakensele Society said excitedly, "Boy, do you have the confidence to take over the Oakensele Society within six months and continue to kick the asses of those charlatans for me?"
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