Watching Lyka gradually fill in every piece of history he knew, Chen Cheng, who had long known history's outcome, was powerless to change anything.
Because to him, he did not know whether such changes would be of any use. At the very least, although he had pushed magic into an age of explosive growth ahead of time, the era he inhabited still could not be said to have changed in any way.
Perhaps everything he had done was futile labor, facts history had long since set in stone.
And the changes he believed he had made were merely part of history, a part deliberately concealed, making him think he had changed history when history itself had not changed at all.
By the time Chen Cheng emerged from those thoughts, Lyka had already finished everything he believed he needed to do.
The palace at night held nothing but emptiness and cold solitude. Sitting upon the throne, Lyka no longer needed to maintain the meticulous bearing he wore when receiving ministers during the day.
He leaned against the icy throne, with the Sword of Kings and the Emperor's Imperial Seal placed at his side.
"I have already done everything I needed to do. I do not know what impact this will have on the future, but at least you let me know that we can prosper through our own strength, rather than because of some god."
Clearly, Lyka's recovered memories were not as complete as Chen Cheng's. His thoughts had not stepped beyond the concept of gods and mortals.
He merely wished to tell everyone that humans were not lowly, that they did not need gods. Humans could create a prosperous social civilization without relying on divine charity.
"You are a great ruler."
This was the only evaluation Chen Cheng could give