Chapter 202: The Titan of Time
Aglaea, having clearly overheard Stelle's final question, approached with a slow, measured gait. Her voice was calm, yet carried an unyielding firmness.
"If every potential threat to Okhema required mobilizing all its citizens to respond, then this city would never know a moment of peace," she stated, her gaze sweeping over Stelle before seeming to fix on something far more distant. "Everyone would live in constant fear, their days consumed by terror and strife."
"To eliminate budding threats in silence, to spare our people the shadow of danger, and to allow them to enjoy this hard-won peace… This is the duty and the very meaning of our existence as Chrysos Heirs."
Stelle's brow furrowed. There was something about Aglaea's philosophy that felt off—a logic that was gentle on the surface but twisted underneath.
She planted her hands on her hips and shot back, "But if you always do that, aren't you just coddling them into giant babies? They don't have to know anything, don't have to do anything, and when real danger finally breaks through, they just have to wait for someone else to save them?"
"People who try to save themselves are the ones most worthy of being saved! Just look at our journey so far…"
Stelle began to tick off examples on her fingers. "The people of Belobog, the Cloud Knights of the Xianzhou Luofu, everyone in Penacony… Which one of them isn't fighting tooth and nail to save themselves?"
"You block every danger from their sight, keeping them completely in the dark. Is the peace you get that way truly what they want? In the long run, won't they lose the ability and the courage to face a crisis?"
Her voice grew sharper, more direct. "What if… what if one day you Chrysos Heirs can't hold the line? What will the people do then? Will they even know how to struggle?"
The words were jarring, but they struck a chord, probing a question Aglaea had perhaps always been unwilling to confront. A ripple passed through her golden eyes, her expression shifting. She opened her mouth, ready to argue, "The peace of the people is not so fragile. They also have their own ways—"
"Now is not the time to debate ruling philosophies!"
Phainon's steady, urgent voice cut through the burgeoning argument. He strode forward, his gaze fixed on Aglaea, his tone heavy with the weight of their reality. "Aglaea, Stelle's words may not be pleasant, but we are facing a far more immediate crisis!"
"The Heaven-Condemning Blade above Hanging Edge City has fully awakened, and its edge is locked directly onto Kephale's heart! If we don't find a way to stop that madman Nikador, the entire Holy City could be reduced to ashes beneath that sword!"
He paused, his voice growing even graver. "But our biggest problem is that Nikador has forged a nearly immortal body for himself. We are fighting him on four separate battlefields simultaneously, yet no one can truly kill him. He revives again and again, seemingly without any cost! Stelle and her companions, along with Mydei, are struggling to buy us time in Hanging Edge City. We must cherish every second they've won for us with blood and peril, and find a solution!"
Aglaea took a deep breath, forcibly setting aside the argument. She knew Phainon was right; this was the only issue that mattered now.
After a moment of thought, she spoke slowly. "I understand your feelings, and I know the urgency of the situation. But Hanging Edge City has been self-sealed and hidden for a very long time. Too many key historical truths and records have been lost to the ages and the black tide. Perhaps…"
She looked up, a glint of resolve in her eyes. "The only way now is to try and find Oloronis, the Titan who governs time and memory."
"Only with his power, by tracing back through time itself, can we hope to uncover how Nikador deceived death to achieve this immortal body."
Finding Oloronis. It was a bold plan, but it was also the only feasible one they had.
With their objective clear, they moved with purpose. A team was quickly assembled, consisting of Phainon, Stelle, and Castorice, who had volunteered to join them.
Trianne once again unleashed her power, and the golden Gate of a Hundred Worlds slowly materialized before them, its shimmering portal opening into the Fate Abyss. The group stepped through without hesitation. As they passed, Trianne solemnly handed Phainon a stone talisman carved with complex, ancient patterns.
"This talisman symbolizes the status of a Janusapolis priest," she explained. "Holding it will help you open the doors to the Threefold Palace of Destiny. We will wait for you here."
In the distance, a majestic yet dilapidated grand hall stood deep within the Fate Abyss. That was their destination: the Threefold Palace of Destiny.
Fortunately, Stelle and her friends had already explored this area and cleared out all the monsters, making their approach surprisingly smooth. Just as they arrived before the temple, an ancient voice echoed from deep within the sanctuary.
Stelle listened intently for a long moment but couldn't understand a single word. It was all gibberish to her, but the tone was thick with rejection and displeasure.
"What… is it saying?" Stelle whispered to Castorice. "It doesn't sound like it's rolling out the welcome mat."
A hint of awkwardness and helplessness crossed Castorice's face. She chose her words carefully, translating in a low voice, "Lord Oloronis said… 'hateful outsiders,' 'disturbing my peace,' 'go away quickly'… Um… and some less elegant words…"
Stelle's lips formed a thin line. "..." Well, her gut feeling had been spot on.
Phainon's brow furrowed. He stepped forward to face the sealed temple doors, his voice resonant and firm, laced with an unyielding resolve.
"Oloronis! We know you can hear us! We have no wish to disturb your peace, but conflict has arisen once more! Nikador rages, and his immortal body threatens not only all of Okhema, but all of Amphoreus!"
His voice echoed in the desolate abyss. "If the truth cannot be uncovered and he cannot be stopped, this world will be left with nothing but endless tragedy and sorrow! Surely that is not what you wish to see?"
"Whether you wish it or not, we must see you today!"
The mumbling from within the hall abruptly ceased.
After a brief, heavy silence, the ancient door, etched with the marks of time, slowly rumbled open just a crack—a motion that felt like a silent, weary sigh. Faced with Phainon's sincere and resolute plea, Oloronis had reluctantly conceded. The stone talisman in Phainon's hand grew slightly warm, as if connecting with the temple's acceptance.
"He… agreed," Castorice whispered, a hint of relief in her voice. "Let's go in. But please, maintain a sense of reverence."
Stelle, true to form, took the lead, stepping into the hall with her usual fearless stride. Phainon and Castorice followed close behind.
The space inside was far grander and more deep than it appeared from the outside. The very air was thick with the tangible dust of time, and each footstep felt like treading upon the echoes of history itself. The surrounding walls were carved with beyond understanding ancient patterns, a faint light flowing slowly within their grooves.
Stelle looked around curiously, muttering to herself, "So this is what it's like inside. Nothing too new or exciting…"
They followed a path that seemed to form naturally from the ambient light, leading them deeper into the structure.
However, as Stelle ventured further, the ancient entity in the heart of the hall—Oloronis, the Titan of Time—seemed to sense something. The continuous, murmuring complaints stopped cold. They were replaced by a sudden surge of exceptionally gentle, almost excited, emotional fluctuations.
The feeling was so strong that even Stelle and Phainon, who couldn't understand the Titan's language, could feel the shift as clear as day.
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