It wasn't meditation.
If the witches had relied on brute strength like the Hero King Gilgamesh once did, Ethan—now in the form of a fragile crow—would've been crushed into pulp the moment he appeared.
But the witches wielded mental power, not muscle, and that was his advantage. Beneath the surface, Ethan was weak—vulnerable. The only reason their devastating spiritual attacks hadn't reduced him to dust was because of the Tyranis Hive Mind, whose veil of protection rendered him untouchable.
"Who are you?"
The witches were stunned. This was the first time they had ever encountered an intelligent non-human lifeform—especially one that could speak. A black-feathered, three-eyed crow with an aura of profound mystery stood calmly among them.
"An intelligent species… other than humans?"
Their hearts pounded. Breath caught in their throats.
They remembered the oldest legends. The only known intelligent being besides mankind had been the Great Beast of Wisdom—the one whispered to be the Creator himself.
The witches stood frozen, no longer thinking of battle. Their naked forms gleamed in the misty waters of the spring, unashamed and still, as they faced this divine anomaly. Their flawless silhouettes stood like statues carved by the hands of gods—perfect, ethereal, and alert.
"You… are you a god?" Medea's voice trembled, reverent and fragile.
There had once been no concept of god in this world.
In the early ages, the people spoke only of the Great Beast of Wisdom—a creature shrouded in infinite power and knowledge. But after surviving the Great Flood, they began to understand. There was divinity in the world—real, terrifying, sacred.
And this crow... this strange being before them… it may not have been that Creator—but surely, it was something close.
Speculations had long whispered that mankind was not the first intelligent race birthed upon this earth. Perhaps many others had come before—powerful, wild, imperfect, unfinished beings. Of them all, humans had merely been the final creation—not the strongest, but the most complete, the most capable of reproduction. The only ones who had endured.
So what then… was this creature?
Was this mysterious three-eyed crow one of the perfect ones—a flawless being shaped directly by the hand of the Divine?
---
Ethan ruffled his black feathers and looked down from his perch, amused.
"If you believe me to be a god," he said, his voice deep and enigmatic like a prophecy whispered on the wind, "then I am a god."
He hadn't intended to play this role—but if godhood was what they saw in him, he would wear it like a cloak.
...Also, could you at least put something on?
Even in the form of a crow, Ethan still had a very human mind. Though there was no physical reaction, a flustered embarrassment tugged at his thoughts. I already have a girlfriend… even if it's complicated.
After a moment's thought, he adjusted his tone, weaving truth and legend into something more... divine.
"I am one of the intelligent creations of the Supreme God. Unlike you, I cannot reproduce. I am a singular existence—unique and eternal. I am the God of Wisdom—Hermes. I have come to guide the children of this world. You may also call me by my other name: Mercury.
I have descended upon this primitive tribe to ignite the sacred flame of civilization and reveal to you… the Truth."
The witches gasped.
Circe, wide-eyed, took a trembling step forward. "O great Hermes, god of wisdom… what is the Truth of this world?"
Ethan smiled.
"Truth is the origin of all laws, the source of all power. Everything you see—the wind, the stars, the beasts—are fragments of that Truth. And now, I bring to you its three sacred paths…
Meditation. Alchemy. Magic."
The witches stood breathless.
Centuries ago, Gilgamesh had been granted the Three Treasures of Civilization. And now, before them, they were being offered something far greater—the Three Great Disciplines of Truth.
"A god…" one of the witches whispered. Her voice broke. Tears welled beneath her flower crown. "To think… I would live to see a divine being. This must be a dream."
Ethan said nothing.
He knew this moment would be etched into the history of their people—a divine encounter passed down in myth for ages to come.
"What are Meditation, Alchemy, and Magic?" Medea asked, her voice trembling—but not from fear. It was the hunger of a seeker, one who longed to know. Curiosity greater than caution… she could go far, Ethan thought. Just don't become the next Gilgamesh.
At last, he began to speak.
His raven voice deepened into an eerie rasp, carried by spiritual power that echoed like a chant across the hills and valleys.
"Meditation is the path of spiritual cultivation. It is the foundation of divinity. Through it, you refine the mind and soul. One day, if your will is unshakable and your heart pure, you may rise beyond mortality and walk among gods. You may serve the Creator directly in His sacred Temple of Genesis."
A gasp spread among them.
Becoming gods…
To stand on equal footing with this celestial being? To attain immortality?
Even the mighty Hero King had never reached such heights!
Ethan continued, undeterred by their growing awe.
"Alchemy is the arcane craft of creation. It is the means by which life may be forged and reshaped. If you master its secrets, you will unlock the Gates of Truth themselves. Nothing will be hidden from you. You will grasp the essence of the world."
His voice was soft, yet it carried across the mountaintops like a divine edict.
"The principle of Alchemy is this: all things are linked. This is the Trinity Formula—one element dominates another, one is subordinate, and one is its bane. All life follows this sacred cycle."
The witches were stunned.
They didn't fully grasp the meaning behind the words—but their souls felt it. Something within them stirred. Something ancient. A voice they had never heard, but had always known.
They clutched their memories, desperately trying to remember every word, afraid to blink and lose a fragment of what had just been spoken.
Then Ethan spoke the final truth:
"Magic is the miraculous force through which the soul commands the elements. It is the divine key that lets you draw fire from water, lightning from stone, and the breath of the stars from dust. With Magic, the world becomes your canvas—and your will, the brush."
Transforming the world…
Commanding the elements…
The witches stood dazed, blank-eyed with revelation. Their bodies trembled not from fear, but from wonder. These were not mere teachings. These were revelations of divine order.
Ethan, still perched like a black star in the trees, looked down at them.
The sacred flame of a new era had been lit.