It certainly wasn't the power of meditation.
If these witches had been like Gilgamesh—beings who relied purely on brute strength—Felix would have already been torn apart, reduced to scraps of flesh scattered across the spring.
But they weren't warriors.
They were practitioners of spiritual power.
And their mental attacks meant nothing to him.
The Tyranis Hive Mind absorbed it all.
In truth, Felix was weak. Laughably so. If a single witch had closed the distance and struck him physically, he would have died on the spot.
But none of them dared move.
"Who… are you?"
The witches stepped back in unison, shock written across their faces.
A speaking, intelligent non-human lifeform.
A three-eyed crow cloaked in black feathers, standing calmly within their sealed domain.
"Another… sentient species?" someone whispered.
Their breaths grew shallow.
They remembered the ancient records. In Gilgamesh's era, there had only ever been one other intelligent being besides humanity—the Great Beast of Wisdom. The Creator.
At once, all thoughts of resistance vanished.
They no longer cared about their nakedness, their perfect forms gleaming in the misty morning light. They stood tall and reverent, as if facing something beyond mortal judgment.
"Are you…" Medea swallowed hard, her voice trembling, "a god?"
The word was new.
Once, there had only been the Great Beast of Wisdom. But after the Great Flood, humanity had begun to whisper of something more—something higher.
God.
Perhaps the being before them was not the Creator Himself, the one who loomed beyond the sky.
But maybe—
An envoy.
A herald.
There were old rumors that humanity was not the first intelligent race. Only the most successful. That before them, the Creator had forged countless sentient beings—violent, flawed, discarded.
Failures.
Then came humans. Weak, but fertile.
And perhaps this crow… was one of the Creator's perfect works. A being sculpted personally by divine hands.
"God?"
Felix stood atop a mossy stone, feathers rustling as he shook out his wings. His posture was relaxed, his presence distant—like a myth stepping out of legend.
"If you believe me to be a god," he said lightly,
"then I am."
He had never wanted to be a god.
But if they insisted on kneeling?
He would accept it.
"…Also," he added after a pause, "could you put on some clothes?"
Even as a crow, even without physical desire, his human mind found the scene uncomfortable. Distracting. Especially when he very much remembered what being human felt like.
Once they complied, Felix continued, his voice calm and authoritative.
"I am one of the intelligent creations of the Supreme God. Unlike you, I cannot reproduce. I am singular. Unique."
He raised his head slightly.
"I am Hermes, the God of Wisdom. The guide of mortals. You may also know me as Mercury."
The name echoed through the glade.
"I have come to this primitive tribe to ignite civilization… and to bring you the Truth of this world."
Silence fell.
Circe stepped forward, eyes burning with reverence.
"O great God of Wisdom… what is this 'Truth'?"
Felix smiled.
"Truth is the origin of all laws. The source of power. Every grain of sand, every breath of wind, is but a fragment of it."
He spread his wings.
"I have come to grant mortals the Three Great Disciplines: Meditation, Alchemy, and Magic."
The witches froze.
Once, Gilgamesh had received the Three Treasures of Civilization.
And now—
They stood before something even greater.
"It feels…" one whispered shakily, cheeks flushed beneath her flower crown, "like a dream."
Felix remained silent.
This moment would be etched into history.
"What are they?" Medea asked, her fear giving way to sharp curiosity.
Felix noted it approvingly.
A dangerous kind of mind—but not a tyrant's.
"Meditation," he said, voice deep and resonant, "is the path of spiritual ascension. The foundation of godhood."
The word struck like thunder.
"It is the road to becoming like me. To gaining dominion over the world. One day, you may stand before the Creator Himself, within the Temple of Genesis."
Their bodies trembled.
Godhood.
Even Gilgamesh had failed to reach that realm.
Felix continued.
"Alchemy is the sacred art of life-creation. Through it, you will pry open the Gates of Truth and uncover the world's deepest secrets."
His voice carried unnaturally far, echoing through mountains and forests alike.
"The core of alchemy lies in the Trinity Formula:
One element serves another.
One element restrains another.
And one element dominates another."
The witches didn't fully understand—but they felt it.
Something ancient stirred within them. A seed long buried cracked open.
"And Magic," Felix said softly, "is the power of miracles."
"With it, you may pull earth from fire… summon sun and moon from lightning… extract flame from the ocean."
"One object. Infinite transformations."
Rain. Wind. Lightning.
Control over nature itself.
The witches stood trembling, minds shattered by possibility.
A god had descended.
And from this moment on—
The world would never be the same.