Gods came from the people.
They were manifestations of collections of concepts, from the abstract to the concrete. They themselves were immortal beings; as long as people remembered that concept, the gods would never perish.
Miss Nian frowned. Though she cooperated fully with the act, she was clearly displeased.
It might cost her life?
The reason she could leisurely play among mortals and display such keen interest in everything was entirely due to her own immortality. No matter how recklessly she behaved, she would not die. Was it not only natural for that to cultivate such a dreadful personality?
She stroked the Xuanyuan Sword with her crimson hands.
Resentment. Unwillingness.
Negative emotions surged over her like a tide, even more ancient than Nian's memories. As the god of forging and smelting, Nian could sense them more profoundly. She could not reproduce them; this was wholly beyond the authority she should possess.
"So, with immortals watching over Shenzhou—or the Yan Kingdom, as you call it—why come looking for me?" Hoshino stared at the Xuanyuan Sword. "Forged from the copper of First Mountain, one side of its blade bears the sun, moon, and stars, while the other bears mountains, rivers, plants, and trees. One side of its hilt records the arts of farming and animal husbandry, while the other records the strategy for uniting the four seas. You should be happily throwing a bonfire party."
"..."
People of the Yan Kingdom would find that rather strange. If the immortals were so powerful, why was there still something like the crisis of the Deep? The border defenses paid a considerable price every year, and history had never recorded it either.
"Ahem."
Hoshino was vague, recounting only legends that no one knew: "In any case, take this sword to the imperial palace. I truly