Chapter 448: The First Gods

Perhaps because Murphy had absorbed the divine power of Cornunnos, during the process of time reversal, he witnessed the long life of that god.

He saw Cornunnos gather his body once more in the mountains and forests, abandoning his original divine name, gathering faith by presiding over the divine offices of forests, animals, and plants, and taking root in the British Isles.

Then, continuing to backtrack several hundred years, he saw several angels descend from the sky on the island of Paxi, surrounding and attacking Pan, killing him, stripping his skin and bones to craft various magical artifacts for worship in churches across the land, and even seizing his divine power to become nourishment for themselves.

As time continued to flow backward, Murphy discovered that this Pan was not a native Greek deity at all, but came from the much older Egypt, where his name had been Khnum. Later, however, he was killed by Amun of Thebes, who plundered his divine office and divinity, and the divine name Khnum was also usurped by other gods.

He was indeed extremely ancient, so much so that after backtracking several hundred years of time, the timeline belonging to him had only reversed a small segment.

There was still some magic power left for the reversal, but the Time-Turner itself began to fail first.

Just like during his first ultra-long-duration time reversal, this Time-Turner also began to melt during its rapid operation. This time, however, Murphy had experience; he reached out and grasped the molten mass of the Time-Turner, letting the golden solution seep into his palm. That feeling of touching the essence of time appeared once more, and compared to before, this sensation was even clearer.

He seemed to see a line traversing space-time, with countless substances aggregating, living, and dying, while only one core piece of information remained unchanged. At this moment, his magic power acted like a hook, latching onto that core information and backtracking along that space-time line.

But such backtracking was too slow; the burning of magic power could not sustain a return to the end of the time line.

Murphy closed his eyes, recalling the string of time he had felt during previous time reversals. It was different from the time line of Cornunnos he was seeing now; it was not composed of the time of a single entity, but was more like the main axis of the world's time.

It did not change based on the observer's perspective; it was a completely objective information entity composed of established reality.

Murphy's will followed the backtracking flow of time, gradually touching that string of time once more. Strangely, he felt a resonance, as if this string of time were waiting for his touch.

Without pondering the origin of this resonance, Murphy extended his right hand and, amidst the infinite time, gently plucked the string once more.

Like a projectile launched from a slingshot, Murphy felt a violent fluctuation. In the blink of an eye, thousands of years of time were leaped over. He took a deep breath, as if breaking through the surface of water, and when he opened his eyes again, he had arrived in the present world.

In the distance were forests of stone monuments. Countless slaves, wearing only rags around their waists, were using rollers, ropes, and levers to transport massive stones.

They transported those stones from distant mountains, cut them into flat slabs, polished them into smooth steles, and after carving them, erected them in the valley before Murphy.

Several shamans with disheveled hair, holding drums and bone staves, sat in a circle amidst the steles, lighting several bonfires and dancing wildly, appearing as if possessed.

Murphy saw at a glance that those shamans were all wizards; they all exhibited the colors of magic to varying degrees, while those driven slaves were all Muggles.

He approached the valley, and was astonished to discover that those steles were also emitting the radiance of magic.

Not only that, unlike the stable and unchanging magical fluctuations of ordinary magical objects, the magic power within these steles was similar to the magic power on the wizards themselves—it was flowing dynamically, and like breathing and heartbeats, it possessed a certain regularity.

These steles were alive.

Or rather, under the influence of magic power, they were gestating some kind of living thing.

Murphy walked among the shamans. His strange, luxurious attire and exquisite, handsome features immediately attracted everyone's attention. The shamans stopped their dancing, watching him with a mixture of fear and confusion.

An old man with only a few sparse white hairs left on his head opened his turbid eyes wide, looking at Murphy, "&#? #￥%?"

His language was too ancient for Murphy to understand, but he had magic.

He raised his right hand, manifesting a Seed of Soul, and adjusted it to a mode that could automatically transmit mental imagery. He threw the seed, which shone with a deep blue radiance, causing it to hover before the old man.

"&%#￥￥%?" The old man was confused by Murphy's intent, not daring to touch the seed.

Murphy, however, had no patience to wait. He issued a command using the Voice of Authority: "Accept it!"

The sound exploded in the ears of the shamans like a thunderclap. Although the old shaman did not understand the language Murphy used, he was driven by the magic power contained within the voice, involuntarily stepping forward and touching the seed.

In that instant, he felt himself connected to a will as vast as the firmament of the universe, as scorching as thunder and lightning.

He could not help but kneel down, murmuring and pleading.

This time, Murphy understood his words.

"Spirit of the ancestors, great being, what are your demands?"

"What are you doing here?" Murphy asked.

"Sacrifice, praying to the ancestors and the guardian spirits, seeking their protection and help," the old shaman said respectfully. "Great existence, which tribe's guardian spirit are you?"

"Why do you think I am a spirit of the ancestors?" Murphy asked.

"Your magic power is vast beyond measure, your spirit is as deep as the ocean; such a sensation I have only felt when communicating with the spirits of the ancestors. But you are more powerful than all the guardian spirits, your tribe must be incomparably strong."

"What is the relationship between the spirits of the ancestors and the tribe?"

"The elders and warriors of the tribe become guardian spirits after death. The guardian spirits bestow power upon the warriors of the tribe, grant magic to the shamans, make the grain yield increase, keep plagues away, and lead the tribe to victory in battle. The tribe, in turn, sacrifices to the ancestors, allowing them to share in the fruits of victory."

"Are these spirits of the ancestors inside these steles?"

"Yes," the old shaman said. "Spirits find it difficult to manifest in the present world. I have never seen a spirit with such vast magic power as you before. Therefore, we carve images for the spirits; these steles are the bodies they temporarily inhabit."

Murphy approached the steles. Getting closer, he discovered that those steles indeed had some simple images carved on them, but they were not human; they were various animals: deer, bears, eagles, cattle, sheep, and so on.

This was a circular stone formation similar to Göbekli Tepe.

Although they were just images carved into stone, upon closer inspection, those animals seemed to be leaping, filled with vigorous vitality, and the magic power contained within them even far exceeded that of those shamans.

"Faith," Murphy suddenly said.

So that was it. This was the original faith, the original gods.

Thinking of this, he suddenly raised a hand. Instantly, black clouds gathered in the sky, a gale blew, and then bolts of lightning as thick as water barrels fell, smashing onto those steles. For a time, lightning flashed and thunder rolled, stone chips flew in all directions.

If these were the original gods, then what would happen if he destroyed them before they were even born?

(End of Chapter)