After finishing his meal, Xu Zhi placed his phone beside the sandbox, letting the music continue to play. Then he quietly returned to his chair to resume eating.
"I thank you for everything you've done for me. These three miracles… are my farewell."
Rumble!
Golden shafts of light split the heavy clouds, piercing the sky as a majestic crimson rain descended upon Babylon.
On the ground, the people looked up in awe.
"The God of Wisdom has acknowledged the great deeds of the Three Witches!"
Tears streamed down their faces as the crowd erupted into hymns.
"This requiem is also a hymn of praise!"
Their voices carried far and wide, rising in perfect harmony with the heavenly music. The sound resounded across the heavens, vibrating through the air, brushing against their skin like the breath of history itself. Their hair stood on end. Their bodies trembled.
Within the haunting beauty of the music, they felt the weight of their ancestors' struggles: man's defiance of fate, their battle against wild nature, against ravenous beasts, against the inevitability of old age and decay.
They were transported, caught in a trance of memory and revelation.
They saw a vision—the godlike Hero King Gilgamesh, the Sword of Damocles raised high, raging against the colossal beasts of the earth:
"The history of man's struggle against nature is a saga of passion and courage!"
"Let it be recorded, so future generations know the valor of those who came before!"
The vision blurred… and the Three Witches emerged, blood-stained and unyielding, standing amidst a field of corpses. Their bodies bore the crimson corruption of the Evil Eye, and yet they stood tall, voices firm and resolute:
"Death will not bend our spines, nor extinguish our will!"
In the streets of Babylon, nobles and merchants, artisans and elders, even witches with wooden staves—all fell silent. Then the weeping began, unstoppable and raw.
O mankind,
We have struggled our entire lives.
This is our era.
This song is our anthem—
A tribute to our defiance of fate.
"Great God of Wisdom, thank you... thank you for honoring our Queens."
The elders of Babylon remembered well the primitive days—when civilization was but a flicker in the darkness. They fell to their knees, aged bodies trembling, tears running freely.
Before the great temple—
"I'm satisfied... I truly am. The crimson rain, the flower monument, this glorious hymn..."
Medea smiled softly, radiant as a blooming flower. She met Cassandra's gaze. The two women exchanged a quiet, contented look. They held hands, standing together in the shadow of the temple of Hermes. With a serene breath, they closed their eyes and opened their arms.
Their bodies fell gently backward.
Under the crimson rain.
Beneath the giant flower monument.
Within the requiem of fate echoing through heaven and earth.
It was a moment of profound beauty, etched forever into legend, preserved in stone murals for eternity.
"Our queens have fallen."
And then the world wailed.
All of Babylon, all of civilization, mourned. Two invincible witches—figures of legend—were gone. For over two centuries, the Three Witches had stood as the shield of the Western human tribes.
What would come next, no one could say.
In the years that followed, The Spear of Witchcraft recorded the moment of their passing:
In the 198th year of Babylon, the Three Great Witches, nearing the end of their lives, offered prayers at the Temple of Hermes. The God of Wisdom answered. He sent down a fragrant crimson rain, a towering flower monument, and a heavenly requiem to guide their souls to rest.
Far away, in the Balchik Mountains—
Circe gazed skyward, her eyes reflecting the divine spectacle. A gentle smile played on her lips.
"God himself has come to send you off. What an honor, you two... I'm stronger than you, so I'll linger a bit longer. But I haven't accepted death—not yet."
Though her strength exceeded that of Medea and Cassandra, Circe knew her days were numbered.
She reclined on her throne and looked down at the gathered witches—dark and dreadful.
"Listen well. My life won't end with death. When I pass, you'll carry on my legacy. You'll bring me back… centuries later. I will return."
And then, she too lay down in her coffin, and closed her eyes.
Within her shadowed palace, crimson murals covered the walls—grotesque depictions of Evil Eye demons, tentacles writhing in madness. It was a scene born from nightmares. The witches, clad in black robes embroidered with red roses, held their scarlet staves and knelt in solemn silence.
"Our Queen will return. She will rule again—and achieve true eternal life."
. . .
Back in the courtyard, Xu Zhi quietly chewed his food, the music still playing beside the sandbox. Eventually, he reached over and turned off his phone.
He glanced at the massive flower monument.
"Might as well leave it there. Flowers are good for the environment."
He eyed the watering can full of rose-scented water and frowned.
"Can't use that for the plants. Guess it's going down the toilet."
He sighed.
"I just started my magic training yesterday… and this morning, I'm already saying goodbye to my teachers—the ones who pioneered magic."
After cleaning up, he dropped by Chen Xi's place to return the lunch box, then came back and stared silently at the sandbox.
"Now that the Three Witches are gone, there's no one left to dominate the world. It's the perfect time to introduce a new supernatural species."
With the Witches alive, no upstart species could thrive.
The Evil Eyes had been trapped, harvested endlessly for blood, their existence reduced to fuel for ritual.
Now, with their tormentors gone, perhaps they'd finally breathe free.
Babylon's magic system followed a simple progression: Apprentice, Level One Magician, Level Two... The Three Witches had reached Level Six, a realm of terrifying might. What lay beyond? No one knew. They had died before breaking through.
Lilith, the new ruler, was only a Level Four Magician—yet she was the strongest left.
"No helping it. Those three were absurdly talented. They carved out an entire path with just their strength and wits."
Xu Zhi's eyes gleamed with anticipation.
"Now's the time to add some new species. Introduce some real competition."
This NEET, who wasn't even an Apprentice Magician yet, leaned over the sandbox.
"The second beta test of Land of Genesis should've started early this morning. Let's hope some of you came up with viable new species I can steal and drop into the world—while there's still no ruler to stop them."
The Sumerian and Babylonian eras had mostly been about survival—tribes versus nature. Primitive struggles. Kind of repetitive, honestly.
They were about to "pass the level," so to speak, thanks to the spread of magic and the rise of witches.
Tyrannosaurus-level beasts? No longer a threat.
"It's time to shake things up. Let's kick this world into hard mode."
Xu Zhi's vision was clear.
In this new era, he would become the mastermind behind the scenes, the unseen hand guiding evolution. A world of magic would unfold—swarming with supernatural creatures pulled from myth: monsters, demons, divine beasts. The Evil Eye would no longer be alone.
A world of mystery, death, and the pursuit of ultimate truth.
"Just thinking about it gets me fired up."
Xu Zhi didn't have long left to live—not with his cancer. He had to make this magic civilization as perfect as possible… and maybe, just maybe, find a cure along the way.
"I'm counting on you, second beta testers.
Help me decide the future of this world."