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"No regrets... are you talking about not regretting stealing fire, or do you mean not regretting deceiving the gods?"

The visitor showed no intention of answering the question, and instead continued to ask.

"...Neither. Even if I hadn\'t deceived the gods, Bronze Humanity wouldn\'t have had the chance to continue, and the Divine King would not have spared me."

With a tranquil expression, allowing pain to spread and accumulate over his body, Prometheus felt his thoughts were incredibly clear.

"Rather than commit even more dreadful mistakes in the future because of my pride, the current outcome is already very good."

"Heh, you sound somewhat like a sage now."

A light chuckle sounded, and a gentle light illuminated from around him, allowing Prometheus to see the deity in front of him.

A dark-haired young man, looking very familiar, but no matter how much he tried to recall, Prometheus couldn\'t remember where he had seen him.

His memory felt as if it were separated by a layer, elusive as fetching the moon reflected in a well, or observing flowers shrouded in mist.

But it didn\'t matter if he couldn\'t remember, looking at the deity before him, Prometheus earnestly requested:

"Could you save a part of the Bronze Humanity?"

"Hm?"

Laine was surprised once again, as he looked toward Prometheus, feeling that the deity in front of him was a completely different person from the one that had deceived the gods.

"It seems you already know that Bronze Humanity cannot escape their fate?"

"Yes, before Mother Earth awakes, the Divine King will definitely create the next batch of humans, perhaps he\'s already starting now."

Shaking his head with difficulty, Prometheus once again requested:

"If possible, could you save a part of Bronze Humanity? Although the Divine King\'s power is immense, in today\'s Mortal Realm, he is not omnipotent."

"If you can escape his notice, and allow a few of the humans to survive, then when the new mortals are born, you will gain a substantial harvest."

"\'A substantial harvest\'? Hehe, what you actually mean to say is that once I get a taste of the power of faith, I won\'t let go of that force. That\'s what you\'re thinking, isn\'t it?"

Looking at the Fire Thief whose expression finally showed some change, Laine smiled and shook his head. The other tried to tempt him with benefits, but he was not angered.

Laine had no intention of taking offense with a prisoner, and strictly speaking, the other party had merely presented a gold mine; whether it attracted someone or what actions one took depended entirely on the individual\'s choice.

What Prometheus didn\'t realize was that the one he sought to attract already had so much gold at home that there was nowhere to put it.

With a grab into the void, he produced a paintbrush. Laine suddenly felt inspired; he planned to finish the second painting in the Creation of Divinity today, The Suffering Prometheus.

"How about I paint you a painting?"

"In return, I can promise you that on a certain day in the not-too-distant future, when disaster befalls the earth, and mortal lives are nearing their end... I will walk the earth, walk among mortals, and if one prays to me, I will grant them survival."

Although the other party had no real power to refuse, Laine still asked politely.

If it were just a whim, and if Prometheus was unwilling, then he would leave right there and then.

"...I am very grateful to you, Your Highness. You are free to do as you wish; I never had the ability to refuse your desire to paint."

Perhaps he had spoken too much, causing more blood to seep from his chest. Yet Prometheus did not mind his body; instead, he looked apologetically at Laine.

"I do indeed favor humans, but I never intended to put you in danger. Openly defying the will of the Divine King is too dangerous. If the Divine King notices—"

"Then let him notice."

Interrupting Prometheus\'s words, with the void as his canvas and the ages as his cloth, Laine began to paint.

The theme this time was Suffering, but in the painting, Prometheus only occupied an insignificant part; more of it was taken up by mortals and gods.

The goodness and wickedness of mortals, and the malevolence and benevolence of gods, all unfolded in the scroll, displaying the myriad facets of life. It depicted not the punished creator, but the Mortal Realm during the Bronze Age.

"Since the promise has been made, so it must play out; it is a destined affair."

The brush was dipped in bright red, the blood of the Fire Thief. With the brush in hand, Laine painted at ease. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"No matter who it is, when I grant them \'immortality,\' then in this world, no one can take their life away."