Catastrophe

After seeing a war in a prophecy and analyzing it, Truman no longer planned to stay long at the Giant King's Court.

"Hermes, let's go." Truman called to Hermes as he headed out of the towering giant palace. "Our people need us."

Hermes nodded silently and followed Truman out of the palace.

"Where are you going?" As they were about to leave the Giant King's Court, Badheil's voice came from behind them.

"Cooperation is possible. I believe we can maintain a certain understanding." Truman looked at Badheil, his meaning clear.

"But now, many people—or gods—don't want our cooperation to threaten them, so they've made their move."

"Let's deal with the trouble right in front of us first."

"..." Badheil silently watched Truman leave the Giant King's Court, "wandering" away.

Omebella wasn't here, and the Giant King had also headed in another direction within the Giant King's Court.

There, a phantom Gate of the Underworld had opened in midair. Pale flames swirled around it, and countless dead surged within. A vast city was faintly visible beyond the gate.

In the deepest darkness and death at the city's center was a pair of bronze eyes concealing layers upon layers of Illusory Doors.

The Ancestor of Phoenix, Gregrace!

But she didn't trust the Elves either, so she only watched and didn't act. She controlled part of the authority of the Door Pathway, and when it came to mobility, even several Ancient Gods couldn't do anything to her.

So even just watching her was enough to pose a huge threat to the Giant Race.

Aurmir and Omebella had both been held up here by one of Gregrace's doors.

Outside a seaside city-state, Truman and Hermes emerged from the void.

This was also a city-state ruled by faith in the Creator, situated at the border between the Sun God's territory and the Elves' territory.

"Doesn't this place also trade by sea with the Elves?" Truman saw many merchant ships out at sea, carrying coral and gemstones from the Elves.

"What a pity." The foundation of this world was madness and chaos. The moment the conflict between Sequences began, its outcome had already been set.

The Ancient Sun God would sooner or later make a move against the Elf King. It would be a war between two races.

"Should I gather the Beyonders from the various city-states?" Hermes asked.

"No. This is a war between Angels." Truman refused.

"...But we should at least do something." Hermes was silent for a moment, then said firmly.

"Organize the people and have them take shelter in the Ritual Plaza at the city center!" Truman's mouth twitched. He was a little helpless. Hermes had a good disposition, but he was far too rigid and earnest about this sort of thing.

"Yes!" Hermes entered the city. An invisible power spread out, and a voice appeared in everyone's mind.

"Leave this place. A Catastrophe is about to strike." Hermes "convinced" everyone with ease.

Truman went outside the city-state and sat down on a large rock, preparing to face the terrifying tsunami from the prophecy.

This was a true Catastrophe. He was certain he could protect himself and hold back his opponent, but he couldn't guarantee he could stop every wave. Many people might die.

"Why are you here?" Truman suddenly noticed a little head poking out from beneath a rock.

"..." The head immediately ducked back inside.

"I saw you." Truman glanced at the sea, which had yet to stir, then smiled and looked toward the small figure hiding behind the rock.

"Come out. It's dangerous here. Hurry into the city." Truman even used Pacification to coax the figure out from behind the rock.

A frail figure, so thin he was practically skin and bones, emerged from behind the rock. He wore ragged linen haphazardly draped over him, and his hair, damp with sea spray, clung to his face.

He wasn't young; he was simply so malnourished that he had grown far too thin.

"You..." Truman furrowed his brow and pointed a finger. Dream Phosphor descended, instantly replacing the boy's tattered clothes with a Dark Robe.

The near-creation-like feat startled the boy, leaving him staring blankly at Truman.

"Here, have something to eat." Truman manifested a piece of cake and held it out to him.

He had introduced many things far beyond this era to the Dream Territory, including recipes for all kinds of food.

Of course, this counted as "noble" food, too. The boy had probably never tried it.

The lure of food brought the boy back to his senses. He stared at Truman's cake, but didn't dare approach.

"Go on, take it." Truman's manner grew even gentler.

"..." In the end, Truman had to place the cake in the boy's hands himself.

In the end, the lure of food overcame the boy's wariness. He took a bite of the cake, as if his very soul had been lifted. He didn't even dare take a second bite, regretting that he had marred this perfect creation.

"Where are your parents? Where do you live?" Seeing that the cake had worn down the boy's wariness, Truman took the opportunity to ask. He needed to get the boy somewhere safe.

"They drowned at sea." The boy looked up at Truman, then cautiously took a second bite.

"..." Truman fell silent and asked no more. Instead, he moved a finger and performed a divination on the boy. He soon learned the truth.

"His parents drowned, and his sister died falling while risking her life to catch fish..."

"Their home was robbed, and he was driven out and branded a bringer of bad luck. He wasn't allowed into the city..."

For some people, simply staying alive was hard enough, especially in this age ruled by Ancient Gods.

The Dream Territory was already in a class of its own, even in the Kingdom of the Creator.

Truman sighed softly and was about to send the boy away when he suddenly looked down at the seawater swirling around the boy's feet.

It seemed higher than before. It had covered the tops of his feet, but now it reached his ankles.

The rise and fall of the water here reflected the great upheaval far away, at the edge of the sea.

His expression turned serious. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and teleported him directly to Hermes.

Then he turned to face the vast, boundless sea.

"It's coming." Before long, all the water rushed backward, drawn farther away by some force.

Dark clouds had already blanketed the sea, with thick Lightning Snakes writhing within them. The gale whipped Truman's robe.

Storms, tsunamis, and even earthquakes were about to strike. This was the Catastrophe.

Behind Truman, the twelve wings of the Angel of Dreams unfurled. In that instant, the Angel Wings expanded in the wind, swelling until they slowly sheltered the entire city-state behind him.

Dream Phosphor enveloped the entire city, leaving the ordinary people—many of whom had only ever seen or heard of miracles in the Holy Bible and from preachers—stunned.

"Praise be to the Creator!" Many believers fell to their knees, praying to the Creator and the Angel of Dreams.

The devout prayers echoed through the Ritual Plaza, growing into a tide.

In the face of miracles and disaster, people always became exceptionally devout.