"I have no control over the other elves of the Lost Island, nor the ability to manage them."
"But, you must return her freedom."
"Not just the illusory freedom of allowing her to leave the Lost Island."
"But to completely strip the divinity and contingencies from her elven bloodline, freeing her entirely from your control, no longer bound by your authority over the elven bloodline."
Listening to Shiayar’s words.
In the deep shadows, nurous brass-colored illusory pupils simultaneously opened.
Then, they locked directly onto Shiayar.
"Do you think you are qualified to negotiate terms with ?"
The ethereal voice, imbued with the absolute authority of a superior being, resonated from the curtain ford by shadows.
"Of course."
"Because, for a human to reach the stage I have now, let alone in the desolate era after the cataclysm."
"Even in the foreseeable future, it’s unlikely another will appear besides ."
"You can’t possibly find anyone more suitable or with a better chance to help you ascend to that higher realm’s new vessel than ."
Shiayar faced those nurous illusory brass-colored pupils directly.
His words were calm, yet carried unmatched confidence.
"I believe, with the traits I’ve previously demonstrated—"
"I am qualified to propose such terms for a transaction with you."
"And in fact, in your heart, you should already have this awareness."
Shiayar spoke neither haughty nor humble.
"Humans are unlike elves completely under your control, a race never before noticed by deities."
"If I don’t actively abandon resistance and fully cooperate with you, then you can’t easily complete the usurpation, at least not in a short ti."
"Moreover, you are not as composed as you claim to be, not only because of the decay of the Elf King’s body, but also due to external pressures driving you to take risks."
"Otherwise, you wouldn’t have recklessly awakened your power just upon detecting my presence, risking losing control again even though the ti was not right for your revival."
Shiayar gazed directly at the shadowed figure on the Black Iron Throne, emitting a decaying aura, as if already half-decayed.
"The cataclysm was a calamity of life for most forr supernatural races and the beings of the Western Continent."
"But, like the principle ’when a whale falls, all life thrives’ in the Endless Ocean Domain."
"The fall of a supre existence, overlooking all creations from the Throne of Heaven, represents endless opportunities."
"The total amount of divinity and authority in the Multiverse is eternally inexhaustible; even if lost, even if perished, it will eventually return from the distant Astral Realm."
He smiled slightly.
"You claim to be the forr Ancient Sun God, the creator of the Glorious Era, and indeed you have inherited a part of His legacy, a portion of His divinity and authority."
"However, you are by no ans the only one to inherit the Ancient Sun God’s legacy."
"And anyone who has received that legacy, how could they not wish to advance further?"
"That is, after all, the Throne of Heaven, worshipped and revered by all beings."
"Who wouldn’t want to beco the sole heir of the Ancient Sun God, the creator of the new era?"
"Given that, you, the residual state of this impaired Ancient Creator, are undoubtedly the best prey, the finest sustenance for them."
"Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been so patient with from the start, even revealing so many secrets of the Glorious Era to ."
Accompanying Shiayar’s words, those myriad illusory brass-colored pupils within the shadows flickered erratically.
Shiayar felt that distant will critically scrutinizing him.
"Very well."
"As expected of the vessel I fancy."
The vast, ethereal voice unabashedly acknowledged Shiayar.
"However, your swift agreent is sowhat beyond my expectations."
This is true.
Although many verbal promises were laid out before, such as preserving Shiayar’s will, even conditions of remolding his body and ascending to the Throne of Heaven.
But this Ancient Sun God knew very well that any being reaching this level could never be a fool.
Nor could they be easily enticed by such ambiguous promises.
If they readily agreed, the deity would then doubt the other’s intentions.
Abandoning oneself, surrendering one’s body.
Such matters cannot simply be resolved by evoking the title of creator of the Glorious Era.
But now, it seems—
"Originally, these were just so casual attempts."
"But now, it appears..."
The illusory brass-colored pupils flickered once.
For the first ti, they fell upon the half-conscious Golden Elf girl.
"Because—"
"Is it so-called love?"
The ethereal voice, once indifferent in its divine nature, now revealed a trace of faint sentint, adding a touch of humanity.
"How unexpected."
"Who would have thought that despite all the prepared promises, what actually made you agree was such an epheral dream-like matter."
"Clearly, to any legendary existence, regardless of race or style of beauty..."
"It is all but sothing attainable at a whim, easily within reach."
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