Everyone Here Was an Acquaintance

"My main body gave you a gift in return, but I can't just let things end there." He thought for a moment, then finally pulled out a slate.

"I don't have the power of my main body, but this is currently in my care."

"I don't know how you learned about Sequences, but I can let you take a look at the real thing."

Sasrir was generous. In this bizarre world, knowledge was almost equivalent to power.

Besides, this was an era when knowledge of Sequences had yet to spread, making such information even more precious.

"Good timing. I need this knowledge." Truman didn't refuse. It would be of limited use to him, after all, since he couldn't walk a Pathway of the Divine. The Ancient Sun God probably understood that, which was why Sasrir could bring the Blasphemy Slate before him.

"This is also part of the plan," Sasrir said. Truman nodded slightly.

Perhaps Sasrir meant to repay him, but this was also connected to their current cooperation.

For example, Star, the Moon, and their Adjacent Pathways.

These were the Sun's bargaining chips for winning over the other two factions.

"Oh..." Truman seemed to think of something. He looked at Hermes and sensed the boundless yearning in his heart. Nodding gently, he said, "How much you can see is up to you."

"Thank you, both Angels!" Hermes bowed a full ninety degrees, nearly dropping to his knees before them. Truman once again scooped up a clump of Dream Phosphor and placed it in Sasrir's hand.

Sasrir blinked and nodded gently, not minding.

"Let's begin." Sasrir fully opened the Blasphemy Slate. The hazy shadow dissipated, revealing a grayish-white slate.

It was mottled and ancient, bearing the vicissitudes of time. Engraved upon it was a strange script that could be understood at a glance.

"Sun Pathway: Sequence 9, Bard..."

Wearing the Robe of the Sage, Truman had reached a terrifying level of skill in recording knowledge. He deciphered the entire Blasphemy Slate without any difficulty.

"Sequence 0..." This was one of the few things that could make Truman take it seriously.

Come to think of it, he could make Cards of Blasphemy now!

A strange thought occurred to Truman, but he quickly shook his head. He wasn't that Emperor who'd even make a move on a Demoness. Better not steal the spotlight.

He looked up and saw Hermes still absorbed in his reading.

"That's enough." At some point, a thick shadow had once again enveloped the Blasphemy Slate. Sasrir put it away.

"Phew!" Hermes came to his senses and bowed to Sasrir and Truman again in thanks.

"A complete Path of the Divine, as well as other Sequence Pathways that can reach the Demi-god level." Hermes was no Truman, and couldn't decipher all the information in such a short time.

So he'd made a choice. He had learned the complete Pathway that concerned him, along with information on Sequence 4 and below from the other Pathways.

"Knowledge should be spread with care," Truman told Hermes, offering a word of advice.

"Yes!" Hermes came to his senses after being overwhelmed by the vast amount of mystical knowledge.

"I, Hermes, swear to follow Mr. Angel to my dying breath! Human history will forever record Mr. Angel's Honorific Name!"

Hermes dropped to one knee and bowed his head to Truman, awaiting his response.

This was no longer a virtual persona. It was the real Hermes.

Truman was startled, then smiled and nodded. "You can call me Dream, too."

"Yes!" Hermes firmly committed the name to memory.

"Go. Your knowledge is enough to let humanity truly defend itself," Truman said. Hermes was an excellent follower, but for now, he should return to the human city-states.

Truman used the Gloves of the Ancient to send Hermes back to where the two of them had first met.

"Sorry. I may have disrupted your plans," Truman said to Sasrir.

This knowledge was the Sun God's best means of gathering human believers.

"It was a reward you deserved," Sasrir said, unconcerned. "The power of a god is enough to make all humanity believe."

Hermes had acquired such a vast amount of mystical knowledge because of Truman. As he'd said, Truman's Honorific Name would be recorded in the history of human mysticism, and countless humans would become Anchors of Divinity for him.

"But your abilities are a lot like those of a Miracle Invoker." Sasrir glanced at the Gloves of the Ancient, then at the Book of Dreams. "Whether it's fate or Wishing."

So they suspected he was connected to that Lord of the Mysteries... Truman understood. The Ancient Sun God could certainly see the discordance in Ouroboros's fate and guess at the Book of Dreams' function. It was only natural for him to think of the Beacon of Destiny.

But Truman knew that wasn't the case. He didn't deny it, only smiled.

"Why don't you take me on a tour of your divine kingdom?" Truman was looking forward to seeing the Sun God's divine kingdom. And there was a good chance he'd run into some familiar faces there.

Sasrir readily agreed. He could welcome a guest and slack off at the same time.

"Hey, Sasrir, who's this? He's almost as handsome as me!" They'd barely gone a few steps when a red-haired knight in black armor came toward them.

He was young and handsome, his expression as bold and blazing as his fiery red hair.

"Medici!" Sasrir barked. "He's a guest."

"A guest?" Medici raised an eyebrow and shot Truman a provocative look, making him feel like punching Medici in the face.

"Your acting is excellent." Truman even sensed a provocation on the mystical level. If two Angels of Sequence Two stood before him, the red-haired one would definitely be the one he'd attack first.

"This isn't acting. He's... like this by nature." Sasrir sighed helplessly.

Medici's expression shifted slightly. He could tell from Sasrir's attitude that he took Truman seriously.

That made him curious.

He was about to say something when a terrifying storm interrupted him.

It was thunder as terrifying as a natural disaster. Its silvery-white light even turned the sky above them into another world.

"Medici, you stop right there!" A voice like a giant monster's roar rang out. A human-shaped natural disaster wreathed in wind and thunder appeared on the horizon. In his fury, his deep blue hair whipped wildly.

"Here he comes, bro." Medici didn't run. Instead, he edged closer to Sasrir, forcing Sasrir to raise a hand and block the thunder.

They couldn't exactly let their guest get struck by lightning, could they?

"Leodero, you've offended an important guest of Heaven! As punishment, you'll sing a song to soothe our guest's anger!"

"You!" The tall, burly Leodero's expression changed. He gritted his teeth, and even Sasrir's face twitched.

"I believe it's in his nature." Truman sighed. From that roar alone, Truman could already tell what rank of Ocean Songster Leodero was. The moment he opened his mouth, it would be devastating.

The only reason Medici hadn't been killed was that he was strong enough and had the Ancient Sun God backing him.