The fresh scent of the air, the fragrance of the earth, the clear chirping of the birds.
Everything in the world converged into a scene both real and exceedingly primitive.
In the valley.
Surya's expression was somewhat dazed, looking at the clear sky without a cloud in sight, as if he had returned to the most distant of times.
That world of the Xiangtuo Myth without the divine power filling heaven and earth.
No divine power in the soil or in the rivers.
Everything was the most primitive, ancient, and purest of heavens and earths.
"No Magic Net, no gods... this is the twilight of the gods."
"This is the future."
With a light sigh, God Surya showed a trace of regret on his face:
"Our Age of Gods has passed, the Goddess of Fertility, the Goddess of Destiny... those familiar figures perished in the past, including us."
