"Your Highnesses..." A witch dressed in blue-black robes stood trembling beside them, tears streaming down her face. "How can your time be up so soon? I wanted to serve you both for another hundred years..."
Medeia smiled gently, looking at the young, innocent girl next to her. "Lilith, as the kingdom's next heir, you shouldn't cry. Birth, aging, sickness, and death are the inevitable ways of life."
Standing before the colossal statue of the God of Wisdom, Medeia, tall and graceful in her mysterious black robes adorned with azure stripes, softly sighed:
"Great God of Wisdom, in the end we disappointed your hopes. We, mere foolish mortals, ultimately failed to step beyond that final barrier, failed to grasp the mysterious alchemy of life and pry open the door to the divine truth..."
"O thrice-great Hermes, we...have failed."
Beside her, Cassandra's gentle face also showed a bittersweet smile tinged with sadness.
She slightly raised her head, gentle sunlight caressing her exquisite features as she gazed into the heavens above. "Our destined end draws near. The three witches you once taught, after long centuries, have now reached their final moments. Cersei...she must be near her end too, no? It's truly regrettable—we are separated by fate and distance, unable to see each other one last time."
"Report!"
At this moment, a royal guard approached from afar, respectfully handing over a scroll of beast hide.
Medeia's calm expression shifted slightly. Taking the scroll, she glanced at its contents, a nostalgic smile blooming on her lips. "We three fought each other our entire lives. Yet Cersei, after all this, still thinks of us in her final moments, sending us a letter."
"Cersei..." Cassandra too wore a complicated expression. Staring at the text upon the beast hide, she seemed to see another woman's familiar smile and hear her laughter, recalling countless memories spanning over a century.
"You, too, approach the end of your life?"
…
Outside the magnificent temple dedicated to Hermes, within Babylon's royal palace square.
"The three immortal great kings are also finally departing!"
Countless citizens gathered outside the palace gates, kneeling and wailing uncontrollably, overcome by grief. The entire kingdom mourned.
Today was a day of national sorrow.
Every Babylonian knew their two great guardian goddesses were nearing the end of their lifespan. Each household hung white cloth, singing mournful Babylonian elegies and folk songs.
Children filled the streets, singing rhymes detailing the lives and legends of the three great witches. Perhaps their combat strength never reached the lofty heights of Gilgamesh, but in people's hearts, their greatness and deeds rivaled those of gods themselves.
These were humanity's gods:
Medeia, Witch of War, guardian of chaos and glory.
Cassandra, Witch of Spring, mistress of occult medicine and shepherding.
And the renegade Cersei, Witch of Curses, queen of chaotic lust and malevolent curses.
No matter how many sins she committed, Cersei's past heroic deeds could never be erased from history. Sadly, even as she awaited death in exile, refusing to return to see her two lifelong friends, she had stubbornly sent a farewell letter instead.
"If Cersei the Witch were to return now and sit alongside the other two witches on the Babylonian throne in the palace hall—even at this final hour, none in Babylon would dare raise a hand against her. Her glory can bear the weight of any sin!"
Countless citizens stood silently, their hearts filled with myriad emotions.
Cersei too was a great pioneer, a towering figure in their civilization's history. Even at her death, though many Babylonians resented her, they could never completely hate her.
Her merits surpassed her misdeeds.
The three witches rose from obscurity.
During times of tribal calamity, countless women perished—yet they bathed in blood and stood forth, united, protecting their fragile tribe from extinction.
At their tribe's most desperate hour, the three witches confronted the Baboko Behemoth, risking death in a battle that gave birth to sorcery. In enlightenment between life and death, Medeia struck down the giant beast, leading her tribe to new realms.
They pioneered wizardry, established rankings of power, laid the foundations of meditation, sorcery, and alchemy, and authored seminal books like "Introduction to Basic Meditation" and "The Gateway to Witch Truth," bringing light to humanity's civilization.
It was also the three witches who led Babylon's tribes to conquer the mighty beasts of the Baturqir Forest, clearing the land to found their peaceful kingdom.
The guardian witches' deeds and brilliance were innumerable and immeasurable.
They established the Age of Witches, leading humanity from obscurity to prominence, battling nature, colossal beasts, and even fighting against their own limited lifespan.
Even now, many still compared the three witches of Babylon with the legendary hero king Gilgamesh—deeming them no less remarkable.
Yet now, even these legendary witches had reached the end of their lives.
"Do not weep for us."
"Life and death are inevitable—we cannot escape them either. Once we two depart, Babylon will be without our guardianship. You must find your own path forward."
Suddenly, the two witches exchanged a gentle smile.
Together, they raised their heads and paid homage to the great statue of Hermes in the sunlit plaza, crystal-clear tears streaming down their beautiful faces as they gazed toward the endless azure sky.
"If only we could see the Thrice-Great God of Wisdom once more before death, we would pass without regret."
"We have failed your expectations, Great God. Foolish and limited, we have failed to comprehend the divine art of alchemy and beg your forgiveness."
"O Great God—would you grant us one last audience before our end? We come not to defy you, but simply to see you one final time."
…
Xu Zhi quietly sat by his doorway, eating a simple boxed lunch.
"You've done more than enough already," he murmured softly, sighing. "You were geniuses, extraordinary talents with insight far beyond your era. Singlehandedly opening the path of magical civilization—none of you were foolish."
He sighed again, staring at the half-eaten carrots in his lunchbox. Even Chen Xi's cooking, usually so delicious, seemed bland today.
"If not for you, I couldn't cultivate magic now. Compared to your accomplishments, I'm the truly foolish one… You shouldn't depart burdened by regret, feeling you've failed to comprehend divine wisdom."
Even a heart of stone would be moved.
Gilgamesh in the past, and now the three witches—these heroes, charismatic and brilliant kings, inevitably faced death and faded into history.
They had achieved greatness, leaving brilliant chapters in the story of humanity's struggle against nature. Yet, death remained inescapable. Xu Zhi himself was also facing the harsh reality of mortality.
This was the second time he felt such complicated emotions.
But for him to directly descend as the god Hermes to grant their final wish was unrealistic. He was not currently the giant Hermes, and could not instantly appear within the sandbox.
To descend again as the God of Wisdom, Mercury, he would need to shut down the sandbox, evolve another spore creature anew, and spend at least half a day before re-entering.
"Since I can't see you one last time before your death…"
Xu Zhi sighed gently, putting down his lunch.
—In the end, he wanted to do something for them.
"Hive Mind, temporarily slow down their world's time flow to match mine one-to-one."
Standing, he took a nearby watering can, mixing in rose essential oil, turning its liquid faintly red.
He lifted the watering can, spraying gently towards that part of the sandbox world, declaring solemnly:
"I say this: Upon the passing of the witches, fragrant rain of blood descends, blanketing ten thousand miles! The heavens weep in mourning!"
Boom!
His resonant voice crossed through the skies, reaching every corner of the sandbox world and resonating in Babylon's royal plaza.
"This…is this…?"
"A miracle!"
"The voice of the Great Hermes, God of Wisdom!"
Medeia's aged face burst into tears, moved deeply by the voice echoing throughout the mountains.
Suddenly, sweet-smelling red rain descended from above, gently falling upon the earth, filling the air with fragrance, immersing the entire world in a floral ocean.
"So fragrant…so beautiful," Medeia whispered, exchanging smiles of gentle happiness with Cassandra. "The God of Wisdom has created such beauty for our passing…"
In the yard, Xu Zhi broke off a fresh flower beside him. With his strengthened spirit and control, he carved the witches' names onto its stem, then threw it into the sandbox from afar.
"I say: Upon the witches' passing, a flower monument descends from heaven, a hundred meters tall! The earth mourns!"
Boom!
Another divine proclamation rang through the heavens.
Immediately, a gigantic flower monument fell from the clouds, landing in the palace square. Its stem bore the carved names "Medeia" and "Cassandra."
The two witches smiled gently through tears. "Such beautiful miracles…We have no regrets."
Xu Zhi sighed softly, playing Beethoven's Symphony of Fate aloud, letting the music fill the sandbox world:
"I say: Upon the witches' passing, divine music resounds, an elegy across thousands of miles! Heaven and earth grieve!"
Boom!
Magnificent music cascaded down, the melody describing a heroic struggle against fate—resonating deeply with all the people of Babylon below.
"This is truly divine…"
"Such glorious music—like a heavenly river flowing!"
Listening quietly, Xu Zhi lowered his head, softly bidding farewell to these legendary figures, wishing only for them to pass on without regret.