The age under the rule of the gods was like this.
It could be considered a form of husbandry. The gods would not ensure that Divine Grace reached every person, but as long as they occasionally displayed their favor, they could make people lose the ability to rely on themselves for a long time.
"But this kind of feudal rule will be overthrown one day." Ian walked slowly through the city, a complicated feeling rising in his heart.
Everything here bore traces of divinity, yet it was so close to human life. The gods were not beyond reach; their will permeated every corner through priests, chosen ones, Divine Decrees, and miracles.
Yet this coexistence was not always harmonious.
At one corner of the market, he saw a woman accused of blaspheming the gods and immediately taken away by soldiers; in the center of the square, a prophet had declared, "Olympus will eventually fall."
He was beaten to death on the spot by an enraged crowd.
"They fear the unknown," Ian murmured. "They fear losing their faith even more."
This was humanity under the rule of the gods. Even when a prophet was killed for uttering blasphemy, the other people in the market did not find anything wrong with it.
Someone would come to clean things up.
However.
Life went on as usual.
Ian wandered through the market.
"No one thinks there's anything wrong with killing someone for blaspheming the gods."
Ian walked slowly along the stone-paved street. Around him were priests in long robes and wreaths, warriors clad in bronze armor with shortswords at their waists, and ascetics with focused expressions murmuring prayers. The air was thick with the scent of olive oil and spices, punctuated by the occasional bark of a dog and the distant ringing of bells from