Vol 7. Chapter 55: The Second Divine Relic

On the bedroom balcony, Leon and Rosvisser watched their two daughters practicing archery in the backyard, smiling with satisfaction.

Rosvisser arched her waist slightly, leaning forward with her cheek resting on the balcony railing, one hand propping up her chin. Her long silver tail swayed gently behind her. She seemed to murmur:

"Noa’s stubborn streak has mellowed out a lot lately. I really thought she’d grow up just like she was as a kid—that would’ve been such a headache."

Leon raised an eyebrow. "Why would that be a headache?"

Rosvisser shot him a sideways glance and snorted with a laugh.

"You really don’t get it, huh? If your daughter grows up to be as bullheaded as you—like a damn donkey—our house will never know peace."

"Fair." Leon shrugged. "My relentless pursuit of truth and success."

Rosvisser scoffed mercilessly and leaned in to plant a mocking kiss on his cheek.

"True-born child of the Divine King, Returned God, Reincarnated Golden One."

With that, she straightened up and turned around to lean her back against the railing.

"By the way, Sherry’s team sent back a report yesterday: The situation with Apollo’s— ...“people” was what she meant—their clan restructuring can be temporarily concluded. To prevent Atos from launching a direct attack, Leon had worked with Safina and Kaiser, along with the Dragon Kings, to defeat him. And after that, he received intel from Hera regarding the other ancient deities."

"You mean Apollo’s... was included too?"

"Yeah. Not long ago, I sent Sherry’s squad out to investigate. It’s been a while now—they should be back soon with something."

"So? I remember you said Apollo’s descendants seemed to reject their divine heritage?"

Rosvisser paused for a moment, then nodded in confirmation.

"Right. Sherry’s findings suggest it has something to do with a 'relic' Apollo left behind."

"A divine relic? Weren’t those supposed to be used to suppress the Void Gates?

Poseidon, Vida, and Senior Cecilia all spent centuries searching for them."

"When you last coordinated with Vida and the others, they’d already located the relics of Apollo, god of light, and god of wisdom. Only the Five-Spirit Crown and the issue with the Chronos successor remained unresolved."

"Don’t tell me... the difficulties Vida’s team faced with Apollo’s relic caused some kind of shift in his descendants?"

Rosvisser gently shook her head.

"No, it’s different from what we understood about divine relics before."

"Ten thousand years ago, the ancient deities foresaw their eventual demise, so each left behind a relic that could carry their power—something to help future generations continue suppressing the Void Gates."

"But Apollo... he left behind not one, but two relics."

Leon blinked in surprise.

"Two?"

"Mm. One for suppressing the Void. The other—"

As she spoke, Rosvisser lifted her head toward the sky and pointed at the blazing sun above.

"—was meant to watch over the light."

Leon froze. "Watch over the light? You’re not the cryptic type, so that’s definitely not your own wording."

Rosvisser giggled.

"Of course it’s not. That’s how Apollo’s relic is described by the non-human group Sherry’s intel identified. The full line goes:

When hope is extinguished once more and the world plunges back into darkness, the warrior clad in golden armor will rekindle the light, watch over it, and carry it on into eternity.’"

She spread her hands.

"Sounds plausible, right? The second relic’s function is this—when Apollo’s sun burns out, it can activate in the hands of the golden-armored warrior and reignite it."

Taken alone, “watch over the light” sounded like a riddle.

But combined with that full prophecy, the meaning wasn’t hard to guess.

After hearing her out, Leon nodded thoughtfully, then asked:

"But... can the sun really go out? That sounds a bit extreme."

In Leon’s understanding—and not just his, but that of all intelligent life on Samael—the sun was supposed to be eternal. It was light and heat that allowed life to exist and multiply.

No one was going to stop you on the street and say, “The sun’s going out tomorrow. Go home and hug your kids.”

You’d think they’d lost their mind.

"It is a bit extreme," Leon nodded. "But if we think back... didn’t we also used to believe that freely manipulating time was just as absurd?"

The power of primordial light couldn’t be comprehended with modern logic.

With that comparison, Leon could accept the idea a bit more.

"And besides, even the original gods can vanish. /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ A suitable successor is needed to keep that power going. It’s the only way the balance of Samael can be maintained."

Leon continued,

"And according to historical records, Apollo gave his life and power to ignite the sun and bring light to Samael. So leaving behind a backup relic makes perfect sense."

Rosvisser agreed.

"I think so too."

Leon gave a quiet “mm,” then shifted the topic.

"Hey, earlier you said the reason Apollo’s descendants don’t identify with their legacy is tied to that relic. What exactly is the reason?"

Returning to the main issue, Rosvisser continued her explanation.

"It’s said that the divine relic—meant to reignite the world’s light in times of darkness—is actually a curse."

"A curse? How?"

"Anyone who tries to use it—whether they’re of Apollo’s bloodline or outsiders with great power—without exception, they’re all burned to ashes."

"Burned... to ashes?"

"Yes."

Rosvisser’s tone grew solemn.

"According to Sherry’s intel, Apollo’s descendants used to try. Every fifty years, they’d select a champion among themselves to inherit the relic’s power. But every one of those brave warriors met a terrible end. No one knows why. It was a relic left by their ancestor, meant to save the world, yet it couldn’t be used. Eventually, they sealed it away. Thousands of years passed. The sun still hung peacefully in the sky. No signs of extinguishing. And as time moved on, Apollo’s descendants slowly stopped believing in their forebear. Especially after we defeated Atos—they felt more than ever that their mission of guarding the relic was over."

At that, Rosvisser let out a heavy sigh.

"Compare that to the Golden Thunder Clan. Under Hera’s leadership, they still hold a place in today’s Samael. But Apollo’s descendants... they can’t feel the protection or grace of their divine ancestor through the river of time. No wonder they’ve abandoned their identity."

Leon’s expression was equally grave.

After a moment of silence, he said quietly,

"If I ever get the chance, I’d like to visit them myself."

Not out of some “seeing is believing” instinct—Leon simply wanted to feel firsthand the thoughts and perspective of Apollo’s descendants.

After all, their forefather really did ignite the sun.

They should never have become irrelevant in today’s world.