"Sigh!"
No matter how many words Prometheus had to say, all he could do was sigh in frustration.
What else could he do? There was no solution.
At this moment, Prometheus felt an unbearable headache. No matter how he looked at it, from any perspective, he couldn't see any possibility of victory.
The Sky Realm!
Even if they somehow managed to defeat the Underworld, what would that accomplish? If the Sky Realm and the Sea Realm combined forces to defeat the Underworld, they still wouldn't be a match for the Sea Realm afterward.
"No matter how I look at it, victory doesn't belong to the Sky Realm!" Prometheus muttered helplessly. "If things continue like this, there's only one outcome—the total defeat of the Sky Realm. That's the only result."
The more he thought about it, the more Prometheus felt an unbearable headache. No matter how he analyzed it, the conclusion seemed the same.
But Prometheus had to admit one thing.
The first Holy War!
This war!
It could be said that the victor would gain immense resources. Whether for the Underworld, the Sky Realm, or the Sea Realm, no God-King, no matter how confident, could abandon such abundant resources.
Unless...
"Victory..."
Prometheus murmured, "No matter how you look at it, victory doesn't belong to the Sky Realm."
"So then..."
As Prometheus pondered, a fierce determination slowly appeared in his eyes. If victory was unattainable from any angle, then he would choose another path.
"If I can't win," Prometheus whispered to himself, "then let the defeat be absolute. Whether it's my plan or the one that follows, everything must be carried out to the end!"
A unique divine power surged from Prometheus's body, and with that, he vanished.
In his place stood a figure that looked exactly like him. However, on closer inspection, this Prometheus was merely a puppet. But this puppet emitted the same divine power as Prometheus, indistinguishable even to a God-King.
Meanwhile, Prometheus arrived at a special palace. He stood there silently, exuding a calm and peaceful demeanor.
Moments later, a vague shadow appeared in the palace. It was so indistinct that it was impossible to tell whether it was male or female. When it spoke, the voice was eerily raspy.
"Prometheus, are you prepared?"
"My lord!" Prometheus placed a hand over his chest and bowed deeply. "I have prepared everything as required. I am confident that everything is under control, and no issues will arise!"
"It better be," the mysterious figure replied in its eerie voice. "Prometheus, you should know well the consequences of any mishaps."
"I fully understand!"
Prometheus's tone was serious, his expression extremely solemn. "I know very well that if I fail, the only result will be my inevitable death."
"As long as you understand."
The figure's raspy voice continued, "Zeus is no longer to be trusted. His madness and chaos will only plunge the mythological world into further turmoil. I trust you will handle this matter appropriately."
"And..."
"You must personally hand over the authority of the third-generation God-King to me."
"As you command!"
Prometheus bowed again, his eyes filled with respect and determination.
Everything returned to silence.
In the blink of an eye, it seemed as though Prometheus had returned to his original body. Everything felt natural and calm, but sometimes, the calmer things seemed, the more dangerous they actually were.
"…"
Prometheus snapped out of his thoughts, gazing into the distance, lost in contemplation.
Indeed, Prometheus had developed other ideas about Zeus.
There was no other choice!
Deep down, Prometheus truly wanted to support Zeus, as Zeus was the most suitable God-King in his mind.
But the problem was...
Zeus had become utterly frustrating. His paranoia was unbearable. If Zeus's abilities were present in a different situation, it might have been manageable. If his rivals weren't strong, his paranoia wouldn't be an issue.
But Hades and Poseidon were both immensely powerful!
In such a situation, Zeus couldn't even trust the most basic of his allies. He spent his days scheming and doubting. Prometheus often felt the urge to slap Zeus and ask, "What are you thinking? Can't you focus? Use your brain, for goodness' sake!"
So much frustration!
So many sighs!
This was proof of how much of a headache Zeus had become for Prometheus. It was truly exasperating.
In the end, Prometheus gave up. Since Zeus was like this, Prometheus decided to no longer hold back. He reached out to a mysterious god and the two formed a partnership.
Prometheus realized that if Zeus's paranoid nature made him unreliable, then it was time to shift his focus to a new plan: the rise of the fourth-generation God-King.
Prometheus had already started preparing everything. He had laid the groundwork, and now, success seemed almost guaranteed.
From Prometheus's perspective, he had over 80% confidence in success. Failure seemed nearly impossible.
With that much certainty, was there even a need to hesitate?
Prometheus knew well that if things continued as they were, all that awaited him was death. Since that was the case, he was no longer willing to hold back.
Prometheus wasn't afraid of death. In truth, he was a madman. Death didn't scare him.
But regardless of his fear or lack thereof, the one thing Prometheus couldn't accept was dying without realizing his ambitions and dreams. That was absolutely unacceptable!
Because of this, Prometheus would not back down.
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