Having foreseen a war in his prophecy and analyzed its implications, Truman decided not to linger in the Giant King's Court.
"Hermes, let's go," Truman called, leading Hermes out of the towering giant palace. "Our people need us."
Hermes nodded silently, following Truman out of the palace.
"Where are you going?" Badheil's voice rang out from behind as they neared the exit of the Giant King's Court.
"Cooperation is feasible. I believe we can maintain a certain understanding," Truman said, glancing at Badheil with pointed intent.
"But right now, many—beings or gods—don't want our cooperation to threaten them, so they're making their move."
"Let's deal with the immediate trouble first."
"…" Badheil watched silently as Truman left the Giant King's Court, "roaming" away.
Omabella wasn't present, and the Giant King had rushed to another part of the court.
There, an illusory gate to the Underworld had opened, wreathed in pale flames, with endless undead surging within, faintly revealing a massive city.
At the heart of the city, in the deepest darkness and death, gleamed a pair of bronze eyes, layered with illusory gates.
Phoenix Ancestor Gregrace!
Yet, she didn't trust the elves, merely observing without acting. Holding part of the Door pathway's authority, her mobility outmatched most ancient gods, making her untouchable.
Her mere presence was a significant deterrent to the giants.
Aurmir and Omabella were both pinned down by Gregrace's gate.
Meanwhile, outside a coastal city-state, Truman and Hermes emerged from the void.
This city-state, ruled by the Creator's faith, sat at the border of the Sun God's and elves' territories.
"They still trade with the elves by sea?" Truman noted, spotting merchant ships laden with elven corals and gems.
"Pity," he sighed. This world's foundation was madness and chaos, and the struggle between sequences was set from the start.
The Ancient Sun God would eventually move against the Elf King, sparking a war between races.
"Should I gather Beyonders from the city-states?" Hermes asked.
"No, this is a war for angels," Truman declined.
"…But we must do something," Hermes said after a pause, resolute.
"Organize the people to take shelter in the central ritual plaza!" Truman's mouth twitched, he had no choice. Hermes' character was admirable, but he was too rigid in these matters.
"Yes!" Hermes entered the city, an invisible force radiating. A voice echoed in everyone's minds.
"Leave this place. A calamity is coming." Hermes easily "persuaded" them all.
Truman sat on a large rock outside the city-state, preparing to face the terrifying tsunami from his prophecy.
It was a true calamity. He could protect himself and counter the enemy, but stopping every wave was impossible—many could die.
"Why are you here?" Truman suddenly noticed a small head peeking from under a rock.
"…" The head ducked back.
"I see you," Truman said, glancing at the still-calm sea, smiling at the tiny figure hiding behind the rock.
"Come out. It's dangerous here. Hurry into the city," Truman urged, even using soothing to coax the figure out.
A frail, almost skeletal figure emerged, clad in tattered rags, hair matted with sea mist, clinging to their face.
The boy wasn't young, just malnourished, painfully thin.
"You…" Truman frowned, pointing a finger. Dreamlight descended, replacing the boy's rags with a dark robe.
The near-creator-like act stunned the boy, who stared at Truman, frozen.
"Here, eat," Truman materialized a cake and offered it.
He'd introduced many advanced items in the dream territory, including cooking methods for foods like this.
Of course, such food was "noble" fare, likely unfamiliar to the boy.
The boy snapped out of it, fixated on the cake but too wary to approach.
"Take it," Truman said, his tone gentler.
"…" Truman ended up pressing the cake into the boy's hands.
The temptation of food overcame caution. The boy bit into the cake, as if his soul ascended, hesitating to take a second bite, regretting marring the perfect creation.
"Where are your parents? Your home?" Truman asked, seeing the boy's guard drop, aiming to send him away.
"Drowned at sea," the boy said, glancing up, cautiously taking a second bite.
"…" Truman fell silent, asking no more. He flicked his fingers, divining the boy's fate, quickly finding answers.
"Parents drowned, sister died fishing… Home stolen, branded a jinx, barred from the city…"
Some lives were never easy, especially in this era of ancient god rule.
Even the dream territory, unique in the Creator's Heaven, couldn't shield everyone.
Truman sighed, about to send the boy away, when he noticed the sea churning beneath the boy's feet.
It had risen, from lapping at his soles to covering his ankles.
The tide's shift signaled massive movement at the sea's distant end.
Truman's expression grew serious. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, teleporting him to Hermes' side.
Then he faced the vast, boundless ocean alone.
"It's here." Soon, the sea receded, drawn back by some force to the horizon.
Dark clouds gathered, thick electric serpents writhed within, and fierce winds whipped Truman's robe.
Storm, tsunami, even earthquakes were imminent—this was "calamity."
Behind Truman, the twelve wings of the Angel of Dreams unfurled. In an instant, they expanded, stretching to shelter the entire city-state beneath their span.
Dreamlight enveloped the city, stunning ordinary folk who'd only read of or heard about miracles in scriptures or from missionaries.
"Creator above!" Many devotees knelt, praying to the Creator, to the Angel of Dreams.
Fervent prayers echoed in the ritual plaza, swelling into a tide.
In the face of miracles and calamity, people grew profoundly devout.
(End of Chapter)
Translator's Note: Nope that child become significant later on.