The God of Music carefully removed the old, seemingly decaying string. From my box, he gently took out a new string, adorned with exquisite silver patterns, and slowly placed it upon the ancient bronze disc.
“It’s about to activate! Don’t tell me this is a trans-epic divine artifact. I’m so excited!” The God of Music rubbed his hands together, a rather… lewd expression marring his elegant and handsome face.
Divine power flowed into the disc, activating it. Just like before, a prolonged silence hung in the air. Then, a burst of white light erupted, instantly illuminating the dim room.
As the light faded, the God of Music stared blankly at the string on the disc, which now only emitted a faint, subtle glow. He seemed utterly bewildered.
“What is this?” I tugged at Ryan’s sleeve, asking.
Ryan’s expression was equally unnatural. “This appears to be… the manifestation of an ordinary divine artifact?”
“Huh?” I was momentarily stunned. An ordinary divine artifact?
The God of Music approached with a hint of uncertainty. Just as he was about to pick up the string, an anomaly suddenly occurred.
A ring of azure light instantly burst forth, violently pushing the God of Music away. Above the string, a scene slowly began to materialize.
“Th-this is…” The God of Music stammered, gazing at the flickering light and shadow above.
“A legend…” Ryan murmured, his voice dry.
Legends, by their very name, are beings or objects that exist within tales and myths. A divine artifact, at its inception, can at most possess abilities infinitely close to the epic tier.
However, if it is remembered and recorded by others through war or other significant events, it can ascend to become an epic divine artifact. If, moreover, this weapon is worshipped and revered by countless people, its story woven into legend, it can further sublimate to become a legendary divine artifact.
Theoretically, even a single leaf or a blade of grass could achieve legendary status under the right conditions. Yet, to be worshipped by multitudes and passed down through legends—how easily said, how difficult to achieve?
The image gradually sharpened. Within it, one could faintly discern a battlefield.
Suddenly, a wave of excitement washed over me. The countless dark figures of enemies at the bottom of the screen were identical to the alien race I had seen that day in my ‘dream’.
It wasn’t the same battle, however. The environment here differed vastly from that day: this was the Endless Void, while the other had been desolate earth.
At the very center of the image stood the back of a woman. Her beautiful black hair, like a waterfall, drifted slowly in the wind, and her azure gown billowed around her. Her hands rested upon a zither of the same azure hue, inlaid with silver patterns, remarkably similar to the one on the stand.
Suddenly, the woman’s hands flew across the zither’s strings. Countless divine arts and attacks, overwhelming in their number, rained down upon the alien race below. In an instant, blood splattered, dyeing the entire sky crimson.
The God of Music watched, utterly dazed. I, on the other hand, gazed at the scene with a bewildered expression, completely at a loss for its meaning.
Ryan, noticing my confusion, regained his composure. “This… this is the myth embodied by a legendary divine artifact. This means it *is* a legendary divine artifact.”
“Hmm… then, one more question,” I ventured, voicing my doubt. “Legendary divine artifacts, are they very powerful?”
“Huh?” At my question, everyone in the room stared at me as if I were some unknown creature.
“Ahem,” Lavishly Karafar cleared her throat twice. “Little Mengmeng is a newly ascended deity; she truly doesn’t understand these things.”
The God of Music let out an “Oh,” then explained, “Leaving aside the inherent abilities of a legendary divine artifact, the mere fact that it can leave a legend in the Divine Realm is proof enough of its power.”
‘Hmph, what if it was just a sneak attack, or some other underhanded method that left a legend? It’s more likely a baseless rumor, surely exaggerated,’ I thought, feeling skeptical.
As if sensing my thoughts, he continued, “Furthermore, this is the Divine Realm. Without sufficient power, even a sneak attack wouldn’t succeed. And as for baseless rumors, deities are not fools. They would never believe something of such magnitude without multiple corroborating witnesses.”
He then gazed with reverence at the ink-haired woman playing the zither in the air. “It’s a pity. Six hundred million years ago, for reasons unknown, a vast number of ancient texts were lost. Now, we don’t even know the name of this legendary powerhouse. I believe calling her my faith would be no exaggeration at all.”
“Isn’t that a bit dramatic?” I blurted out. “Just a mere phantom, yet it can make a deity call it their faith?”
Ryan looked at the phantom in the air and said, “The terrifying aspect of a legendary powerhouse lies precisely here. Their charisma is unimaginable. This phantom is, in essence, the manifestation of a legendary powerhouse’s will, the embodiment of their spirit.”
“That divine? Why don’t I feel anything at all?” I stared intently at the phantom in the air, puzzled, but still shook my head, indicating I sensed nothing.
“How could that be?” Lavishly Karafar frowned at me. “Even I, whose ideologies clash greatly with hers, can feel the dedication, fearlessness, and resolve emanating from it.”
The God of Music nodded, agreeing with Lavishly Karafar. He then asked, “Despite having many significant differences from this legendary deity, she can still feel it. Yet you, who appear to be a fellow Illusion God, cannot?”
I shook my head once more. “Indeed, I feel nothing…”
Ryan lowered his head in thought, then surmised, “Perhaps it’s because you are an ascendant from the lower realms, and you haven’t been in the Divine Realm for very long.”
“Oh, right!” I smacked my right fist into my left palm. “Weren’t we here to forge the zither’s body?”
The God of Music nodded. “That’s correct. However, before forging, evaluating the material and its grade is of utmost importance.”
“So, have you decided how to proceed?” I asked the most crucial question.
“I have, and I haven’t,” the God of Music replied, offering an ambiguous answer.
“What do you mean?” I grumbled, annoyed at his deliberate suspense.
“The reason I ‘have’ is that I now have many potential solutions,” he paused. “But the reason I ‘haven’t’ is that I feel none of these solutions are worthy of these legendary strings.” The God of Music sighed.
“Then what are we going to do?”
“To truly complement these strings, we’d need at least a legendary-grade zither body, but that’s impossible. We can only settle for the next best thing: a trans-epic zither body is essential. After all, the body merely stabilizes and amplifies; the true power lies in the strings themselves.” The God of Music furrowed his brow as he spoke. “But finding a trans-epic zither body is easier said than done.”
He violently raked his fingers through his hair, then slumped onto the table, feeling helpless. “How about this? I’ll forge a high-tier divine artifact zither body for now. Once it’s complete, I’ll immediately return to the Divine Realm to search for an epic-grade zither body.”
“There’s no need for that, is there? I can just go look for it myself. Why trouble you?” I felt a pang of guilt and tried to stop him.
The God of Music’s expression turned remarkably serious. “Do you realize that this zither of yours might be a signal for the rise of the Language Illusion Gods? I, too, am a Language Illusion God. I deeply understand the significance of this, and in a way, it’s also for myself.”
“Th-then, I’ll leave it to you,” I mumbled, nodding. At this point, refusing would feel rather affected.
He clapped his hands again, then, like a gust of wind, darted into the inner room as he had before.
*Thump.*
If I wasn’t mistaken, that was likely the sound of something, perhaps a body, hitting the ground…
Yet, soon after, the sounds of rummaging began to emanate from within.
After a good while, the God of Music emerged, cradling a white zither body, a mysterious bruise adorning his face.
“I can’t believe I forgot this!” the God of Music exclaimed excitedly. “This is a quasi-epic divine artifact. Primarily, it lacks any particularly noteworthy achievements, so it barely qualifies as ‘quasi-epic’.”
He placed the zither body on the workbench, then gently wiped it a few times with a cloth.
“That’s Ye Menghan, isn’t it? Hand me those strings.” He gestured to me.
I passed him a set. He took them, observing carefully for a long moment. “Why are there twenty-three strings?”
“Then… how many should there be?” I asked.
“Usually, there are seven,” the God of Music replied, scrutinizing them.
“But that one *has* twenty-three strings.”
The God of Music stared at the twenty-three strings, pondering for a moment. “Never mind. We should respect the original owner.” He then picked up his tools and began hammering away at the zither body, making a clanging sound.
Before long, a brand new zither body emerged. The God of Music had forcibly transformed a seven-string zither into an oddly twenty-three-stringed ancient instrument.
The God of Music then attached the strings one by one. “There,” he said, handing the ancient zither to me. “Since it was originally a seven-string zither, it’s a bit cramped.”
After fiddling with it for a while, I found it surprisingly suitable. The width was just right, fitting my hand perfectly… Wait. He said it was a bit cramped. That means it’s suitable because… because… my hands are small…
While I was lost in thought, the God of Music subtly moved next to Ryan. “Hey, Ryan, do you… like that little one?”
Ryan froze. “What are you talking about?”
“Tch, don’t think I can’t tell,” the God of Music scoffed, nudging Ryan with his elbow. “Just tell me, how confident are you? Or rather, how far have things progressed?”
Ryan’s face stiffened. ‘Is it that obvious?’ he wondered, though he still sighed before answering. “I don’t know. A lot of the time, I feel like I upset her for no reason, but then other times she acts like nothing matters, as if nothing ever happened. The most important thing is, she doesn’t seem to have the slightest inkling of my feelings for her. Could she be pretending to be naive?”
The God of Music stroked his chin. “This could be quite troublesome…”
What Ryan didn’t realize was that my failure to notice his feelings stemmed from a very simple line of reasoning.
Firstly, my fixed mindset: I believed myself to be a normal boy, the kind who likes girls. For a boy who likes girls to think another boy liked him—wouldn’t that be incredibly strange? Unless that boy was gay, he would absolutely not fall for me.
Then, if the other party *was* gay, it was even more impossible. Because I currently appeared to be a girl, the idea of a gay person liking a girl was unthinkable…
In hindsight, there were many flaws in this logic. But unfortunately, I was indeed trapped in this dead end.