Myths Reawakened

“The High Prophet serves the avatars. While the avatars possess formidable divine power, they cannot directly deliver their oracles. Thus, the High Prophet must possess the ability to communicate with nature to sense the avatars residing in the distant Divine Realm...”

Senna explained the High Prophet’s role in the church. The High Prophet was a servant of the subordinate gods. With one of the three avatars being Mirelle the Lark of Wisdom, who wielded the divine power to see the future, the High Prophet held an important role. Yet given that the High Prophet was only a servant of the gods, their status varied.

When they were needed, the all-knowing High Prophet would guide the church’s future; when they were not needed, on the other hand, the High Prophet would be nothing but a rambling old coot.

Subordinate gods were still gods, equally worshipped by followers. Senna didn’t want to be too blunt and risk damaging the gods’ dignity, so she stopped there, hoping that Wayne would fill in the blanks.

To lower-ranking followers, becoming the High Prophet and coming into contact with the subordinate gods would be akin to reaching heaven in a single step; for higher-ups, they only respected the subordinate gods because they worshipped the goddess. The goddess always came first—it was a principle that absolutely could not be taken lightly.

Given Wayne’s talent, there was no reason for him to waste time on the subordinate gods. He deserved a higher and better position, such as the goddess’s chosen knight!

Wayne ruminated on the information. Serving the subordinate gods sounded quite nice. The lark that could foresee the future? It seemed to be quite an impressive power. If he mastered it—no, if he became the High Prophet, believed to have the power to see the future, wouldn’t he be able to make up prophecies however he wanted?

Hey, you. Yes, I’m talking to you. I have a prophecy concerning you. Come to my room tonight, and we’ll have an in-depth discussion.

“Not many can communicate with nature. High Prophet Tubert spent close to a century and only managed to train two students, and unlike your inherent talent, their talents were cultivated with countless resources, imperfect in essence...”

“That’s why Tubert has to maintain his post, unable to leave the mortal realm for the Divine Realm. His ability has become shackles that prevent him from advancing further, and he yearns for an excellent student more than anyone.”

“If you become the High Prophet, you will become just like Tubert, unable to pass on your mantle for your entire life. Forced to sit in the Prophet Sanctuary all day, you’ll eventually become deranged...”

The High Prophet wasn’t as terrible as Senna made him out to be, but to break whatever illusions Wayne might hold for the role, she highlighted the downsides and painted the role as worthless.

Then Senna changed the topic, “I don’t know how Silvia has been training you. Perhaps she’s been knocking your confidence down because she’s worried that you may become arrogant with your talents, but I can tell you for certain that you are a genius, Wayne. You’re more than qualified to become the goddess’s chosen knight. That is the honor worthy of you.”

Senna proceeded to preach about the greatness of the chosen knight. There was no need for exaggeration or embellishment. Every word she said was true. She did regard the chosen knight highly. If not for her insufficient talent, she would want to become the Nature Knight herself.

If the Nature Knight were an option, who would want to be the Pope? The choice could be made in a heartbeat.

“I’m not exaggerating, Wayne. You’re exceptionally talented, so don’t let Tubert tempt you. He has ulterior motives and only seeks to use you. Whatever he says, don’t agree carelessly.”

Senna gave him an earnest piece of advice. Then she brought up the Pope and told Wayne how she had faced suppression at the church throughout her career. Simply put, the Pope craved power and always went after the dissenting voices. Senna had become a thorn in his side because of her excellence, and he continued to treat her unfairly.

Because Wayne was considered to be under Senna’s mentorship, the Pope also considered him an enemy. Now, the Pope and the High Prophet had reached an agreement to lock Wayne in the Prophet Sanctuary—basically life imprisonment.

Wayne reviewed the situation. The plot was so edgy that he couldn’t identify a single good person—except himself, he meant. When had the church fallen to this state?

And how had the alliance of Darkness and Death not defeated the churches when they were like this? What was going on? Was it because of the Chosen Land’s matchmaking system?

Wayne kept his comments to himself. After hearing Senna out, he felt little to no interest in the role. The reason was simple: the High Prophet didn’t get holidays. They had to stay at headquarters all three hundred and sixty-five days per year. That would be extremely dull.

Of course, the High Prophet only faced life imprisonment, not a life without a wife. As long as he didn’t leave the Prophet Sanctuary, he could do whatever he wanted; not even the Pope could control him. He could very well bring Veronica if he became the High Prophet.

But what about his heretic girlfriends, Filomina, Kristen, Vera, and Mona? They were part of the empire he had fought hard to build.

“Speak, Wayne.”

“The world is so vast. I want to see it.”

“What?”

“The power to predict the future is certainly tempting, but being the High Prophet comes with too many restrictions. It’s at odds with my yearning for freedom.” Wayne spoke concisely. He wanted to return to Londan and enjoyed the better scenery.

Senna was overjoyed. She offered a few words of encouragement and said, “The chosen knight doesn’t come with the same restrictions. Sir Moula, the current Nature Knight, rarely stays at headquarters. He goes wherever he wants, listening to no one but the goddess.”

Senna reiterated what Garvin had said: don’t be the High Prophet. A real man should be a knight.

“Master Senna, can I really become the Nature Knight?”

“Of course. Vice Captain Garvin of the Order of Nature thinks highly of you.”

“Still...” Wayne was doubtful—not about his talent since he had proven himself capable of becoming the chosen knight with a simple touch twice, bypassing the goddess altogether. What he was concerned about was the consequences.

When he drew Shadow Nightmare, he had been oblivious. Only later did he learn the baggage that came with becoming a goddess’s chosen knight. The goddess would be monitoring her knight constantly. He was only able to avoid direct conversation with the Goddess of Death because of the Headless Knight. The same was true of becoming the Darkness Knight through Twilight Despair. Auston was his shield.

With the two unlucky souls suffering in his stead, Wayne was able to reap the benefits without any responsibilities.

If he became the Nature Knight and completed the handover, establishing a direct line with the Goddess of Nature, then She looked and realized that he had practiced his skills with Death and Darkness...

What? This isn’t your first rodeo?

It wasn’t hard to imagine the goddess’s face darkening.

All of that was Wayne’s speculation, and he would actually consider that scenario wishful thinking. He had a grimmer theory: the Goddess of Death and the Goddess of Darkness might already be watching him. Because they were allies, and because of the Headless Knight’s current mindless state and Auston’s defiance, they allowed him to act as the alternative knights. He was basically a backup.

As allies, the two goddesses would be sisters behind closed doors, so it wouldn’t be inappropriate to share a backup plan. The Goddess of Nature, on the other hand, wasn’t their bestie, but a rival in the enemy camp. If their carefully trained backup got stolen...

How was he going to live with himself if he somehow caused a war of faiths?

He would love to watch the goddesses fight each other, clawing at faces, yanking hair, tearing clothes, but he knew that if a war actually broke out, the ordinary followers would be the ones to die.

Once the ordinary followers died, and the disciples were gravely wounded, it would be the chosen knights’ turn to take the stage. With him playing three roles, he couldn’t possibly split himself in thirds and fight himself, could he?

If that day came, the furious goddesses would sooner tear him apart than tear into each other. He had to reject the Nature Knight’s mantle!

He followed his heart and said no to temptation. Darkness and Death were more than enough for him. Being the Death Knight had raised his ceiling, allowing him to taunt legendary mages as a newbie, while the Darkness Knight was icing on the cake, perfect for annoying the Old Two-Face. Adding the Nature Knight on top of that would be unnecessary and bring no benefits.

“Say something, Wayne.”

“Master Senna, the matter requires further consideration. I know myself well. I’m used to being carefree and undisciplined. The goddess won’t approve of me.”

“How do you know without trying?”

If I try, I’ll die!

Do you know that you’re standing before the Death-Darkness Knight?

Wayne showed little interest in being the Nature Knight, his dismissive attitude making Senna’s heart burn. She had to wonder if he lacked ambition like her hopeless student, Silvia.

The boy’s still young. It’s normal for him to lack ambition now. He’ll be fine once he grows up.

Senna took a deep breath, consoling herself. She gave him a few more reminders and warned him to be wary of the High Prophet. They would talk about the matter of the Nature Knight in a few days.

If Wayne was still indifferent then, she would have to increase the pressure and use Silvia’s dragon blood curse as the lure. It would be impossible for Wayne not to bite the bait!

To become the next Pope, Senna would pay any price to make Wayne the Nature Knight.

“Have a safe trip home, Master. See you later.”

Wayne waved goodbye at the air before heading to the second floor, seeing if he could manage to make his sister agree to taking a bath with him.

Boom!

The attempt ended with him flying out and landing in the grove outside the mansion like a human cannonball.

“That girl, getting all worked up over nothing. If someone saw, they would misunderstand our relationship...”

Wayne dusted himself off, chiding Veronica for being narrow-minded. It was just a bath together. They had done it before. No life would be born if they were careful about it.

Squeak—!

A startled monkey fell to the ground, hopping around trying to drive the intruder away. Worried about being pelted with feces, Wayne quickly left its territory.

As soon as he turned around, though, he realized something amiss.

It wasn’t a commonplace monkey, but a mandrill.