Minis eventually caught up with that floating black cloud.

And a unique electromagnetic consciousness wave kept probing, the trembling black cloud suddenly halted, revealing an intimate aura amidst the chaotic consciousness.

"Even if everything is lost, the remnants of my clan still remember me."

Minis stopped and looked at the sky's black cloud from a plain, feeling a sense of nostalgia in his heart: "Have you come to see me?"

The cloud suddenly descended.

Covering this land, wisps of gray mist-like remnants of souls surrounded it, turning the area into a gloomy mist graveyard instantly.

Minis was initially stunned, then quickly strode forward, approaching the graveyard.

"Herodotus, after you left, this world became increasingly lively."

He stood silently, trying to communicate, surrounded by silence, yet still sensing the long-lost presence of an old friend, that persistent and resolute man.

"This is your last trace in this world."

Suddenly, within the chaotic consciousness, he mobilized electromagnetic waves to organize the chaotic wills, clearing an empty space in the chaotic consciousness and wrote "Herodotus' Tomb" on it.

He pondered for a moment, then wrote Herodotus' epitaph on the tombstone:

[Fear is the emotion furthest from truth by living beings.]

Those were his often-spoken words.

He quickly offered flowers and brought some food, "Herodotus, you always told me in life that fear is the emotion furthest from truth by living beings."

"Now I want to tell you, fear is also the mindset closest to longevity in life."

"You crossed into Outer Heaven, while I retreated into the cave."

"Fear kept me alive."

He sat before the graveyard, no longer having that initial expression of solitude and melancholy, unexpectedly looking peaceful and warm.

He knew that fear of death allowed him to live the longest among the three strongest individuals in the civilization of that time, being the most obscure one.

But fear also made him hesitant and indecisive now.

If it were Herodotus and Atabia, those two steadfast men, standing in his position, they would continue without hesitation even if alone.

They were monsters, but he was just a human, scared and confused.

"However, after that battle, after enduring the ruins and scars, we finally rehabilitated."

Minis sat cross-legged, leaning against a stone, suddenly recounting recent events, smiling as he said:

"You would never expect that previously primitive tribal lands have turned into big cities, how magnificent those scenes are now."

"Three wall sides lined with cliff cities, patrolled by two-legged flying dragons, with caravans coming and going, residents chatting, and children running and playing."

"The Elf Kingdom on the Elf Tree remains somewhat unwelcoming to trade, always shooting at the rear ends of deceit-loving Human Race merchants as they approach."

"The squares of the Elf Academy and Human Academy often see students arguing over philosophies, but more often reading, strolling, researching new Divine Techniques together, riding flying dragons, and traveling everywhere."

"The Gods on the tree no longer care about the ground, with the Human Hero Grand Mage Anthony and the Elf Race hero, Natural Watcher Sereden, establishing city-states, living in palaces, each becoming a king."

"Our creations have become extremely prosperous on the land, with their civilization and kingdom."

Nowadays, most intelligent life forms, to conserve energy and space, have become as small as mites, with technology strengthening them, making them more delicate and tiny instead.

This is the most perfect living form, existing in this vast world.

Only the civilization's war heroes and strong ones have a tall and robust body, the size of ants, for ease in battle.

Even some existences, such as the Elf Race's Guardian God Mountain Giant, reach a size of ten centimeters.

"And after that battle, the Gods on the tree began to age, descending to the ground to live their final lives."

"Remember Edland, who once studied Gluttony that granted Fallen Paradise? He became a mortal, a gourmet enthusiast opening a round table restaurant, with a constant stream of customers, immersed in their smiles every day, feeling he went the wrong way in the first half of his life."

"Carlson, your proud deputy, is still an unyielding old-fashioned guy, teaching at the Elf Academy as the Chief Grand Mage, strict in demeanor, with students secretly calling him the old monster."

"Basel recently has been picking up on the Lust research of the Seven Deadly Sins, curious about the most mysterious force among the Seven Sins, even transforming himself into a male, changing various beasts, elves, and Humans he encounters into females, indulging in everywhere breeding and bringing joy, but Pellis, seeing his crimes everywhere, beat him up before I could judge him, and dragged him to be a proper businessman, establishing a merchant guild."

He leaned back against the stone, chuckling softly:

"That Balrog fellow went to the Human city and opened his own forge, crafting weapons for the Human warriors passing by."

"And Hilopite still clashes with Balrog over differing casting philosophies, crafting Spellcasting Staffs for the Elf Race, the two old men arguing fervently whenever they meet, brandishing weapons, enjoying it tirelessly."

"Punon became the owner of an estate, kindly raising children every day, but was killed by riotous Humans, leaving a last letter before dying, asking not for revenge, perhaps considering such a departure from this world an interesting thing, and we respect his choice."

"This world, after all, has changed."

"Gradually becoming the way you hoped in life, just, enlightened, with laws, beginning to prosper, with mortals ambitious, paving the way for the Gods in front."

On this land known as the Elf World, Minis brought many stories of the Gods before the tombstone, with rumors in major cities going unnoticed, some gradually becoming folk legends of Demigods.

He recounted them one by one, telling the deeds of over six thousand Gods, eventually speaking about his own situation.

"And I, lately, have only been listening in on their declining final days from the tree, never personally visiting those once-Gods."

"Because we no longer exist in the same world."

"What meaning is there for me now, aside from exposing their identities and interfering with their lives?"

"They are now living happily."

As he spoke, he suddenly felt a kind of deep loneliness engulfing him like the deep sea.

Surrounded in silence, Mills couldn't help but reminisce about the past.

Back then, there were few people in this world, with the ground's tribes still impoverished.

Young wise men stood on the trees, often joyfully viewing the land from above, bustling, researching the tribes created on the ground, confiding in each other about their dreams and ambitions.

They once pointed beyond the Crystal Wall and made a pact, saying they would journey together beyond Chaos for a fantastical adventure.

But unknowingly, only he remained gazing over the Elf World alone.

"They truly brought prosperity to the entire land."

Minis fell silent for a moment, suddenly rising to his feet.

He gazed at the sky, vaguely recalling the turbulent times of apocalyptic calamities, during widespread floods and Purple Mist, when his tribesmen shouted at the sky.

Today's days are getting increasingly better.

He suddenly laughed, expelling all the depression and melancholy within, his mood unexpectedly becoming more buoyant than ever before, shaking off his body.

The profound age and solitude in his eyes completely dispersed.

The young man suddenly began to smile.

"Everything that needed saying has been said; the past ends here, and a brand-new future awaits me, leaving no time for hesitation."

"This is the stage you crafted for me, and I will open the next era."

His consciousness suddenly left a mark on this graveyard.

Leaving an empty grave for himself—Minis' Tomb—and hesitantly wrote his epitaph:

"He who shall eventually soar the vast sky must first abide in mire to gather strength."

"He who shall eventually ignite the Holy Fire must forge the torch with an epoch."

"My era has already arrived, some mediocrity must accumulate to bloom with flowers."

Before leaving, Minis took a deep look at that graveyard and the tombstone he had crafted for himself.

Suddenly he had a feeling.

He would be the last brilliant afterglow of the Atabians, and here is his final resting place.

Once he entered this graveyard, the Creation Era of Creation Gods would eternally become the past.

The Atabians would eventually turn into a distant wave in history.

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