It certainly wasn't the power of meditation.
If they had been like Gilgamesh—who relied solely on brute strength—Xu Zhi would've already been reduced to minced flesh.
But the witches wielded spiritual might, not physical force. And their mental attacks couldn't touch him. He was protected by the Tyranis Hive Mind.
In truth, he was weak. Pathetically so.
"Who are you?"
The witches recoiled in shock. For the first time, they had encountered a sentient, non-human lifeform that could speak—and what a sight it was. A three-eyed, black-feathered crow, enigmatic and imposing.
"Another intelligent species...?"
Their breathing quickened.
They recalled the ancient legend of Gilgamesh. Back then, the only known sentient being besides humans had been the Great Beast of Wisdom—also known as the Creator.
All thoughts of resistance evaporated. They stood still, no longer concerned with their lack of clothing, their flawless forms illuminated in the morning mist. Alert, poised, reverent—they faced the mysterious being before them.
"Are... are you a god?" Medea's voice trembled with awe.
Originally, there was no concept of 'god' in this world. Only the title Great Beast of Wisdom existed. A creature of boundless power and unfathomable knowledge.
But after the catastrophe of the Great Flood, humanity had begun to whisper a new word: God.
The being before them might not be the Creator Himself—the god who loomed beyond the clouds—but he could be one of His envoys. A lesser divinity. A herald.
There had long been whispers that humanity was not the first sentient race to walk the land. Just the most prolific.
Maybe the Creator had crafted many intelligent species before them—violent, malformed, incomplete experiments. Failures.
And then came mankind: fragile but fertile.
Perhaps the creature before them was one of those first perfect creations—a unique being personally sculpted by the hands of a divine artisan.
"God?"
From atop a moss-covered boulder, Xu Zhi smiled. He shook out his obsidian feathers, his tone airy, yet shrouded in mystery—like a mythic raven perched between life and legend.
"If you believe me to be a god... then I am."
Xu Zhi had never wanted to be a god.
But if they insisted on worship? Well, he would play along.
"…Also, could you put on some clothes?"
He may have been a crow at the moment, incapable of physical desire, but he was still a man in mind. And this situation was... distracting. Even if he already had a girlfriend—though it was barely more than a label.
He composed himself and spoke again, voice cool and authoritative:
"I am one of the intelligent creations of the Supreme God. Though powerful, I am unlike you—I cannot reproduce. I am singular. Unique. I am Hermes, the God of Wisdom. The guide to mortals. You may also know me by another name: Mercury.
"I've come to this primitive tribe to kindle the fire of civilization… and bring you the Truth of this world."
The witches fell silent.
Circe took a hesitant step forward. "O great god of wisdom, Hermes… what is this 'Truth'?"
Xu Zhi's smile deepened.
"Truth is the source of all laws, the origin of power. Everything you see—every grain of sand, every breath of wind—is but a fragment of it. I have come to bestow upon mortals the Three Great Disciplines: Meditation, Alchemy, and Magic."
The witches stared in stunned reverence.
Once, Gilgamesh had received the Three Treasures of Civilization. And now, they stood on the verge of inheriting the Three Great Disciplines of Truth?
"To think we'd encounter a divine being..." one of them whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Beneath her crown of flowers, her cheeks flushed crimson. "It feels like a dream…"
Xu Zhi remained silent. This meeting, this exchange between god and mortal—it would be carved into history.
"What are Meditation, Alchemy, and Magic?" Medea asked, curiosity overcoming fear.
A sharp one, Xu Zhi thought. The curious ones rise the highest. I just hope she doesn't become another Gilgamesh…
But she lacked that same violent arrogance. She would be fine.
He answered, voice filtered through the raven's throat, now a gravelly, almost otherworldly rasp:
"Meditation is the path of spiritual ascension. It is the foundation of godhood. A road to becoming like me. To gain dominion over the world. Someday, you may stand before the Creator in the Temple of Genesis… and hear His divine teachings."
The witches trembled.
Godhood.
To transcend mortality. To wield the same divine authority as the creature before them?
It was a realm even Gilgamesh had failed to enter.
But Xu Zhi wasn't finished.
"Alchemy is the sacred art of life-creation. It is how you will pry open the Gates of Truth. Master it, and the world will reveal its deepest secrets to you. Nothing will remain hidden."
His voice wasn't loud, but it echoed—unnaturally so. It traveled across the forest glade, through the mountains of Ameya, carried far beyond where any wind should reach.
"The principle of alchemy lies in the Trinity Formula: one element is subordinate to another, one is its bane, and one dominates it."
The witches stood still. Mesmerized.
Even if they didn't fully understand the words, their instincts told them this was real. Sacred. Something ancient and buried within them stirred awake. A sleeping seed had begun to crack open.
Xu Zhi moved on.
"Magic is the power of miracles. With it, your spirit can pull earth from fire… summon the sun and moon from lightning… extract flame from the ocean. One object. Infinite transformations. That is the mystery of Magic."
Rain. Wind. Lightning. Control over nature itself?
The witches stood in mute awe. The implications shattered everything they thought they knew. They were shaking, unable to speak.
A god had descended.
And the world would never be the same again.