Fifth Epoch, June 28th, 1349. Above the Gray Mist.
"What's going on…?"
Zhou Mingrui stood amidst the endless Gray Mist, the air thick with mystery. Crimson stars of varying sizes pulsed faintly in the fog. He had no idea where he was—only that this was not Earth.
One particular star drew his attention. It flickered violently, contracting and expanding like a dying heartbeat.
He reached out and touched it.
Third Epoch. Cataclysmic Era. After the Great Calamity.
After leaving behind a spiritual "backdoor" above the Gray Mist, Eli Walker returned to the remnants of the elven people.
The fall of the Ancient Sun God had shattered the balance of the world. Even the secluded and once-mighty elves were forced to abandon Sonia Island, their last sacred refuge.
As he led the surviving clans southward toward the Rorsted Archipelago, Eli advanced to Sequence 3: Sea King of the Storm Pathway. The Lord of Storms, aloof and prideful, did not personally pursue him—perhaps deeming a lone Demigod beneath his notice.
In gratitude to Arrodes, Eli named the archipelago after the ancient mirror spirit's future master. Arrodes believed it completely and basked in joy for weeks.
But Eli's ambition extended far beyond gratitude—he longed to become an Angel.
To that end, Queen Elariel Moonrest, sovereign of the elves, personally offered to help him find a Calamity Pathway Beyonder characteristic. Eli, an elf who had risen to Sequence 3 despite the Lord of Storms' targeting, had become the race's final hope. Without Saint-level powerhouses, the elves would soon fall to irrelevance.
Still, Eli refused her offer.
Elves were never subtle—if Elariel truly possessed an extra characteristic, she would have handed it over. Eli suspected she meant to split one from herself—an extremely dangerous act for any Angel, especially one already shouldering the burdens of an entire race.
He had other means to advance and didn't want to owe that kind of debt.
As for the God of Luck, the rumored secret ally of the elves—he had never appeared, and even Queen Elariel had said it was safer if He remained hidden from the eyes of other gods.
After parting with the queen, Eli—guided by Arrodes—traveled to the frigid North Sea in search of a Calamity characteristic once held by a corrupted elven subordinate god.
To prepare for the journey, he consumed a Polymath potion—a Sequence 6 of a lesser-known fanatical Pathway—and mimicked traits from other sequences, even borrowing the Faceless's ability to shift form. He traveled in disguise, quietly watching the world realign itself.
He watched as the churches of the Six Gods rose from the chaos, scriptures were rewritten, and the name of the Ancient Sun God was slowly erased from history.
This unstable era came to be known as the Era of Discord.
Arrodes' scattered omniscience allowed Eli to witness events few mortals could even imagine. He saw the unveiling of the Second Profane Slate, and stood shoulder to shoulder with names that would one day become legends:
Bethel Abraham, Solomon, Zaratul, Tudor, Trunsoest, Augustus, Einhorn, Sauron, Castiya, Zoroast, Stiano… and Cheek.
With Constantine nowhere to be seen, Eli adopted the name as his own:
Eli Walker Constantine.
Among these ancient figures, he was not the weakest… but his fate was already marked by the divine.
He studied the Storm Pathway's ritual for godhood, then turned his eye to the Hermit Pathway. Its requirement: vanish for a thousand years in total seclusion while your believers unknowingly sustain your image.
It finally clicked.
The Moses Ascetic Order hadn't created the Hidden Sage out of reverence—
They were building a god from nothing.
Create a myth. Nurture it. Then become it.
Eli chuckled. No wonder the Ascetics were so zealous. They didn't know who would inherit the myth, but whichever lucky fool did… would become a god.
He observed Sauron, who looked visibly shaken after reading the Profane Slate—and Cheek, even more so. The elf didn't dare provoke that one. Cheek was easily the most terrifying genius of their age. Even Solomon and Abraham had to step aside in his presence.
One morning. Somewhere in the early Third Epoch.
"Hey, what's your name?" Sauron asked lazily while fastening her shirt. She had just finished dressing when she noticed the elf beside her had removed his disguise, revealing a soft, slender face with distinct eastern features.
"Eli Walker," he said with a yawn. "What else?"
"Eli Walker Constantine?"
"I remember it." He stretched. "You're not going to steal my Beyonder characteristic, are you?"
"I'd never!" Sauron snorted. "My child will inherit the Hunter Pathway. It's already been decided."
She suddenly turned and pinned him beneath her. Though still a young woman, there was already a glimpse of the Conqueror she would one day become. Her fiery red hair trailed like a burning flag behind her.
"No."
Eli stared at her calmly. "If you didn't like me, why would I waste something like that on you?"
"Oh? You think I'm playing hard to get?" she raised a brow, leaning in closer. Her breath warmed the tip of his pointed ear.
"And what if I give birth to a daughter?"
Eli dragged out the words in mock imitation of her tone.
"Shut up!" Sauron snapped. "It'll be a boy. That's a woman's intuition! Do you even understand what that means?!"
She glared down at him, fuming. He smirked.
"And your other descendants? What about your sisters? Will all Sauron women walk the Hunter Pathway? Doesn't that sound… dumb?"
He paused, remembering the lineage of the Sauron family in fragmented legends—something about her heir coming from her sister—and suddenly, his gaze turned a little complicated.
"Constantine!"
She snapped, dropping the use of his elven name altogether.