Only God-Chapter 62 - 58 The Logos people are the children of God

Another century had passed.

For the exceptionally long-lived Logos people, a hundred years was neither short nor long.

My mother passed away during this century, and Dertulian became even more taciturn.

Ever since both of my parents had passed away, he had learned to isolate himself from the world, to observe it coldly, watching over the kingdom as it prospered more with each passing year.

Under the rule of my brother, King Yarlessto, who serves as king, the glory of the Logos Kingdom today far surpasses that of the Sapo King’s reign.

Now, amidst the prosperity of agriculture and animal husbandry, the kingdom had grown into a nation housing nearly a hundred thousand people. The Logos people formed several city-states, and towns rose one after another along the fences that divided the farmland.

Within the Logos Kingdom, social changes were emerging endlessly among the people. Under the guidance of King Yarlessto, the writing system, which had been simplified from painting, was first used for religious services. As time passed, it gradually became common to every Logos person.

People engraved their writing on clay tablets and then fired the inscribed tablets to preserve them forever. As a byproduct of brickmaking, the Logos people discovered bricks, which were soon embellishing the streets and alleys.

Due to the high demand for inscribed clay tablets, the Logos people began to excavate the mountains within the kingdom, and thus, forty years ago, they discovered copper within the earth.

The elder sages cherished copper dearly, promoting it as a gift from God, an idea that quickly spread throughout the Logos Kingdom.

Hence, over these years, the Logos people began mass-producing brass. Despite the lack of know-how, the brass they produced, small in size, was only suitable for decorative or ritual purposes, but this was undoubtedly the best proof of a flourishing civilization.

In addition to this, with the abundance of life, the sharp-eared Logos people invented many musical instruments. With their excellent hearing, they could not tolerate imperfections in music. Thus, they strove arduously to create fine instruments, leading to the emergence of hundreds of musicians who were not only outstanding performers but also skilled instrument craftsmen.

Trade also naturally thrived within the kingdom, with barter being the norm. Wheat and leather were the most common goods exchanged.

In their trading, the Logos people started hiring others to assist with various tasks. More far-reaching, they employed some for life, with children inheriting their parents’ debts, and thus the group of slaves, catering to the needs of the kingdom, naturally emerged upon the earth.

Dertulian saw that his brother, King Yarlessto, who served as king, his diligent governance, his vigorous spirit, was being called the Wise King by the people.

Both sons of the Prophet, King Yarlessto was so great, enjoying countless honors and accolades, that even Dertulian occasionally took pride in his only remaining relative.

Dertulian heard from other priests that King Yarlessto was about to gather the wise elders of the nation to inscribe the past events on a smooth, white marble slab, to compile the very first history book of the civilization.

This history would start from the Ape-man Era, first depicting the time when they lived wild as beasts, consuming raw meat and blood, to the sudden arrival of God, when the ancestors of the Logos people began to possess language and rationality...

Following this, it would recount the betrayal of the Sapo King, the arduous journey with the Prophet and his son, and finally, the end of days when God listened to their calls and saved humankind.

The history book would temporarily end here, with King Yarlessto not detailing God’s departure and the decline.

Upon the completion of this stone monument, the Logos people’s civilization would turn a new page.

Dertulian watched all this as always, from the sidelines.

The Prophet’s second son always remembered his identity as a Hunter.

However... the kingdom no longer needed hunters to brave the dangers of the forest, no longer needed hunters to fight against prehistoric beasts, nor did it need vast regions designated for hunting grounds.

The hunters, who had once gained glory in the hunt, were now mostly existing in legend and story.

Civilization was moving forward, leaving behind those who had pioneered the kingdom.

And as a hunter, Dertulian felt alienated from this increasingly prosperous kingdom.

The more prosperous the kingdom became, the less he found a place for himself.

Dertulian, in the Pattern Garden, leaned against the wall caressing the leaves in his arms that he had brought down from the mountains two hundred years ago.

Dertulian became lost in his memories, not knowing how long it had been since he had last thrown a spear.

He was once among the most outstanding of hunters, aspiring to be a brave and skilled hunter like Sapo.

But now, while the strength of the past lingered in him, he had long lost a place to use it.

A thousand words, in the end, condensed into a single sentence.

"God... where are you?"

God’s era of favor, the era when that Hunter forged a Kingdom... where has it gone?

Did the era of throwing spears depart with God? Has it gone, never to return?

For a hundred years, Dertulian and Antion climbed the mountains countless times, and just as many times found nothing, as if God had truly left with that era, becoming an untraceable memory.

After this hundred years, Antion finally accepted the fact — God had truly departed.

For hundreds of years, Antion offered sincere worship, pondered the laws of the world, the less he saw of God, the more devout he became, each time hoping to see the figure of God on the mountain, yet God never responded to his hopes.

The last time he ascended the mountaintop, this young Priest, facing an almost empty scene, his determination bordering on obsession, finally crumbled.

God had gone.

At that time, Al, who had witnessed the decline of God with his own eyes, was like facing a hurricane, the leaves of his spirit forest all withered.

And now, almost coincidentally,

The Priest of Pattern Garden, Antion, wandered, no longer able to find the meaning of being a Priest.

Since God had left, God was no longer there.

For what then should our worship be, in which direction should the laws be explored, to whom should those devout offerings be made?

Without God...

The existence of the people of Logos...

It seemed as though it had lost its purpose, suddenly plunging into a void.

Antion watched the ignorant Priests in Pattern Garden painting stories of God, watched musicians extolling the nation bestowed by God, watched the people of Logos pray for God’s protection in their ordinary days, these scenes were so ironic, so hopeless.

This devout Priest fell into endless contemplation, mumbling to himself in the Pattern Garden filled with wheat, now crying bitterly, now laughing wildly with joy, his mind filled only with madness.

Antion, disheveled, let lice crawl all over his body, breathing fresh air, his eyes bloodshot, his body increasingly emaciated, his flesh sagging from his bones.

The other Priests kept their distance from him, secretly referring to him as the madman, avoiding him at all costs.

Only Dertulian was still willing to approach him.

Finally, one day, Antion burst into Dertulian’s home, rudely awakening the son of the Prophet.

Dertulian opened his bleary eyes.

In the darkness, he saw Antion suppressing his madness, saying:

"Son of the Prophet, God has left, truly left."

"I know, I know."

Dertulian, under the bright moonlight, looked over Antion.

Whether it was an illusion or not, the latter’s gaze, at that moment, seemed remarkably lucid.

"God left, just like that. But the children of Logos are God’s children..."

The Priest tensed his entire body, word by word, saying:

"Children cannot lose their father,

Because God left,

The children of God must find God again!"

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