Only God-Chapter 512 - 441: Baird’s Awakening

Angel Schiller’s exploration of the soul was unique.

He himself was like a person crossing the ocean in a canoe.

He did not know where the endpoint lay, nor how to avoid the dark currents from all sides; all he had was the endless strength to paddle and a resolve harder than diamonds.

Angel Schiller did not have much confidence, he was prepared for failure. After all, the path he was to take had never been walked by anyone, not even seen.

No one knew what awaited them at the endpoint.

Angel Schiller was fortunate; even though he was alone in this world, there were still those who shared the various hardships along the way, ensuring he was not lonely.

"What exactly do you plan to do, Lord Schiller?"

The Fairy Queen, holding a book, jumped from one cloud to another, flapping her wings and slowly landed on the Great Angel’s shoulder.

Angel Schiller spoke slowly:

"I won’t plan; I will only guide.

The ones making the choices are the souls led by Baird."

Sofia nodded, as something came to mind, she then asked:

"What conditions did you offer that made the Netherworld Judges willing to bet with you?"

Great Angel Schiller hissed, releasing a thin breath, and replied:

"Forgive me, I cannot tell you, Sofia.

In any case, it was a condition even the Netherworld Judges would find tempting—it relates to the Hell created by God."

Sofia nodded somewhat understandingly, tilted her head in thought, and then asked:

"Then, Lord Schiller, is there anything you’d like to share with me?"

Schiller lowered his head, and after a moment, he spoke slowly:

"Indeed, there is something."

Sofia asked:

"For example?"

After pondering for a moment, Schiller countered with a question:

"For example...

Do you know what a myth is?"

The Fairy Queen sat down and said:

"What a vast question... Myths refer to the sacred stories about mortals and the Divine. Broadly, ’myth’ can refer to any ancient legend..."

Sofia was about to prattle on with the concepts from the book.

"Regardless, ’myth’ is ultimately a ’tale’, it’s a ’speech’, isn’t it?"

Angel Schiller interrupted the Fairy Queen.

Sofia nodded,

"Of course, myths are something that can be spoken of."

Angel Schiller further elaborated:

"Then, Ancient Language, isn’t it also a form of ’speech’?"

Sofia looked puzzled,

"You mean...

You want to connect the two?"

Angel Schiller nodded slightly, smiling:

"Simply put, through the myth about Baird, I aim to understand the Ancient Language, in order to observe the collective unconscious.

Speaking in mysterious terms, it is using the speakable myths to chase after the unspeakable collective unconscious.

I believe this is why God said to me: ’The answer lies within Logos.’"

Sofia appeared to have a moment of realization.

"So it is," Schiller smiled and continued, "The direction of my observation... the thing I want to see is related to ’Taboo.’ I will comprehend the ancient ’Taboo’ through the experiences of Baird. Because in the myths of the world, ’Taboo’ is most common."

Sofia listened to Schiller’s words, that brain smaller than a thumb not knowing what to think.

Moments later, the Fairy Queen remembered that Baird had fallen to such a state because of a wager made by the gods.

Then, as something occurred to her, she said anxiously, "Schiller, in guiding Baird for your own purposes, do you see him as a mere tool?"

The Great Angel didn’t think there was anything wrong and counter-asked, "Yes, he can get what he wants, and I can achieve my goals. Isn’t that good?"

Upon hearing this, Sofia stared at Schiller, asking meaningfully, "If that’s the case... how are you any different from those divinities?"

The Great Angel was stunned.

He stood there, statue-like, as feathers from his Six Wings fell, each one drenched in sacred light.

---

The chilly winds of the Netherworld ravaged the lands of the afterlife, where all sorts of souls, following judgment, were sent to their deserved places to suffer their deserved punishments.

With the help of the Death God Nakbet, the Great Angel Schiller made a wager with the Death God and judges of the Netherworld. If Schiller won, the judges of the Netherworld would have to exile Baird from the Netherworld.

As for what would happen to this legendary hero if he were truly banished from the Netherworld, the judges couldn’t know.

Above the Great Plain, there was peace and tranquility everywhere. Those who had devoutly believed in the pantheon of gods in life, the paragons of good, and the heroes, would come here after death, reveling in endless enjoyment—singing, poetry, duels, and even lovemaking—here, the King of the Netherworld granted them the greatest freedom and tolerance.

But there was one figure, who, even amidst the throng of heroes on this Great Plain, continued to shine brightly yet seemed out of place in this rare beautiful part of the Netherworld.

That was Baird.

His name had appeared in the epics of the Three-eyed Ape People, in the True Religion’s "Second Prophet Book," and even in the wild songs sung by the Beastmen, his figure was not absent.

However, such a great hero had become a walking corpse in the Great Plain due to the extinguishing of hope.

No one was able to awaken that heart, long shattered.

Even friends from his past could not bring any different reaction from this puppet.

But today...

Something seemed different.

On the spacious river that flowed across the Great Plain, Baird stood dully by the riverbank, head lowered. The smooth river water reflected his visage, its disheveled image unable to affect Baird whatsoever.

The river water flowed on without returning.

Day after day, year after year.

Suddenly, Baird’s body jolted violently.

Those vacant pupils slowly widened.

An inexplicable yet divine light appeared upon the river, as a pure, flawless feather drifted along with the current. There, within the river, slowly emerged a vision that seemed fleeting at any moment.

In that reflection was a woman.

Her features were lovely, her demeanor dignified, surrounded by an endless Cloud Sea, as if enveloped by blissful happiness, yet her eyes held sorrow, revealing boundless longing.

That was Baird’s lover, long since passed away.

In that wager, Baird had won, only to witness the naked truth—that everything he had pursued throughout half his life was merely an illusion, nothingness.

And ironically, now after his death, he once again saw an unattainable reflection, even more illusory and abstract than before.

Even so,

Even if...

It was but an ephemeral mirage...

It was enough to reignite a broken heart.

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