In the cold wind of the Caucasus Mountains, the murderous aura had almost condensed into a tangible substance.
Hermes had led Alexander and his elite soldiers to the mountain peak like a sharp blade, their target clear—Prometheus, chained to the rocky cliff.
But as they broke through the clouds and reached the place of punishment, they were met not with easy prey, but with a terrifying figure that could overshadow heaven and earth.
Zeus!
The King of Gods had descended in person!
He stood majestically upon the peak, surrounded by violently writhing golden serpents of lightning. The thunderbolt scepter in his hand radiated a destructive presence, dyeing the entire sky an oppressive violet-gold. His majestic and icy gaze, like two powerful lightning bolts, instantly fixed upon the uninvited guests.
"Insects! How dare you covet my prisoner!" Zeus's voice was like a thousand thunderclaps, shaking the very stones loose from the mountain.
He didn't even grant Alexander or the others a chance to speak. The thunderbolt scepter in his hand was already raised, and a terrifying lightning bolt, as thick as a mountain peak, was ruthlessly hurled forth with the will to cleanse all blasphemy!
"Protect the King!" Heracles roared and tried to step forward, but the sheer destructive energy made it impossible to advance.
"Spear of Divine Retribution!" Alexander's pupils abruptly contracted. In that critical moment, with no other choice, he roared and hurled the dark crimson spear, condensed from the grudges of a hundred million soldiers.
The dark crimson stream of resentment clashed with the most potent, destructive thunder!
There was no imagined explosion. The two opposing forces annihilated each other, emitting a sound that grated against the very teeth. Space itself twisted at the point of impact, revealing the darkness of the void beyond.
For the moment, it was a stalemate.
But anyone with a discerning eye could see Alexander was at an absolute disadvantage.
The veins on his forehead bulged, every muscle in his body strained to its limit. Power surged into the Spear of Divine Retribution like water through an open sluice, yet he barely managed to hold his ground against the infinite might of the thunder.
Zeus, while slightly surprised that a mortal could withstand his thunder, remained composed. The power of his lightning steadily increased, forcing Alexander to give ground, the very rocks beneath his feet cracking inch by inch.
"This can't continue!" Odysseus's sharp cry cut through the chaos. His gaze swept across the battlefield, instantly formulating the coldest and most effective solution.
He looked at Cratos, who was wielding the Wrath of Earth and had eyes only for Zeus.
"Cratos! Abort the attack on Zeus! Your target is Prometheus! Kill him, now!" Odysseus's voice was absolute.
"What?!" Thalia exclaimed from the side, and even the other heroes engaged in the bloody melee cast sidelong glances.
In the critical moment of fighting Zeus, they were to disperse their strength to kill a bound prisoner?
Odysseus explained rapidly, his voice remaining clear even over the roar of thunder. "If you do this, the Spear of Divine Retribution might lose its divine power! It might even be replenished by Gaia, but that's the lesser of two evils! Prometheus cannot be left alone any longer! Cratos cannot withstand Zeus at full power; we must eliminate this potential threat first!"
Alexander, struggling to maintain the deadlock, heard Odysseus's analysis. He gritted his teeth and glanced at Prometheus, who remained chained and seemingly indifferent to the coming battle. He weighed the pros and cons in an instant.
Odysseus was right! If Cratos couldn't shake the Thunder God, they had to cut off one of his fingers first!
"Agreed!" Alexander ground out the word through clenched teeth.
Receiving the order, a glint of savage satisfaction flashed in Cratos's crimson eyes. He abandoned his plan to attack Zeus and pivoted sharply. The Wrath of Earth, with fury that could rend the ground itself, transformed into a dark crimson arc of death and struck directly at the seemingly helpless Prometheus chained to the stone wall!
Prometheus, who had maintained an unnerving calm throughout, finally showed a flicker of 'alarm' on his face—was his plan being disrupted?
He stared at the blade, which rapidly expanded in his pupils, filled with resentment and the earth's destructive power.
The next moment—
Pfft!
A clean, precise sound of cutting rang out.
Prometheus's head, once filled with boundless wisdom, soared into the air, spraying golden ichor!
"Roooar—!!!" Cratos felt the majestic and pure divine power emanating from the Wrath of Earth and let out a thunderous roar of excitement.
Gaia, deep within the earth, also emitted a satisfied groan, resonating with the ancient Titan's demise.
But this atmosphere of victory lasted less than a moment.
Hermes's figure appeared beside Cratos like a phantom. Instead of looking at the rolling head, he solemnly patted Cratos on the shoulder, pointing at Prometheus's headless body, still bound by chains.
"Look at his 'corpse'."
Cratos and the newly arrived Thalia followed his gaze and saw that the headless body was not dissipating or decaying like that of a fallen god. Instead, it began to emit a soft, gentle light!
This light was not divine. It was more like a convergence of countless ideas and hopes!
"Thank you, lost children."
An ethereal voice came from all directions, speaking directly into the heart of every living being present.
As they watched in horror, Prometheus's body, along with his soaring head, began to disintegrate, transforming into countless particles shimmering with a starlight-like glow. They flowed upwards like a river in reverse, ascending and beginning to resonate with all of heaven and earth, especially with the vast mortal world below.
Hermes raised a hand, pressing the brim of his winged hat down, closing his eyes, and muttered, "Tch... This is troublesome."
"What happened?" Thalia was still out of the loop; she only sensed the birth of a vast and unfamiliar 'entity', but couldn't grasp its essence.
The ethereal voice sounded again, echoing between heaven and earth with a solemnity and joy that defied expression:
"Rejoice!"
"This is the unity of humanity, the concentration of hope, the embodiment of civilisation, and the symbol of legacy!"
"Behold, rejoice—"
"The birth of Alaya Noah!"
The light completely flooded the mountain peak. The chains crumbled and dispersed as if they had never existed.
The individual existence of 'Prometheus' was gone entirely, replaced by a collective will that permeated the air, saturated the earth, and resonated in the depths of every human subconscious.
Hermes looked upon this event, beyond the comprehension of most gods, and explained to the still-bewildered Thalia:
"It seems we 'helped' him take the final step. Prometheus was 'freed' from his physical captivity, and he embraced 'death' as the end of his divine life. But in that final moment, he completely detonated his accumulated wisdom, his love for humanity, and the unyielding essence of hope."
He took a deep breath and spoke the shocking truth:
"In this moment, he is no longer an individual. He has merged with the very concept of 'humanity', becoming a symbol of civilisation and hope, an immortal lighthouse in the ocean of humanity's collective unconscious (Alaya), guiding the ark of civilisation (Noah) through the torrent of suffering."