Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

Just as with the Three Furies and the Goddess of Beauty born from Uranus's blood, it was not impossible for a deity to be born from the blood of the Divine King.

Crack...

Crack—

"Hmm?"

His gaze suddenly sharpened, and Zeus looked forward involuntarily.

In the center of the cave, where he had previously been, three cocoons of light were floating in mid-air. But now, they were slowly fracturing, with thin pieces of the light shell continuously falling.

Perhaps due to the peculiarities of fate, the birth process of the Fates also seemed to be quite unique. Not long ago, Zeus had watched them arrive in this world and expand from the size of an infant to the height of a man.

They seemed to not need time to grow like other deities, or rather, for the Fates, the existence of fate itself was their nourishment for growth.

Crack...

Crack—

Crack!

Like a row of dominoes being toppled, as the first crackling sound was heard, a succession of crisp noises followed.

Under Zeus's gaze, at a certain moment, as if breaking through a critical point, fragments of the light cocoon flaked off like snowfall.
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As the pieces floated down and then disappeared, the three distinct goddesses came into view when the cocoon of light slowly dissipated before Zeus.

One was a maiden, one middle-aged, one elderly—the oldest not only looked unlike the daughter of the Divine King but more like the grandmother of Gaia.

And by each of their sides lay a naturally formed Divine Artifact.

The maidenly one was Clotho, whose artifact was a spindle; she could use it to spin the threads of fate, each strand representing a lifespan; the middle-aged woman was Lachesis, whose artifact was a measuring rod, which she used to measure the length of life, determining the length of the thread; and the wrinkled old woman was Atropos, in possession of a pair of scissors.

She could cut the threads of fate short, leading lives to their end.

The Three Fates, at such a moment in time, had finally come into the world. Like the once mighty Titans, they were born fully grown, possessing notable wisdom and judgment.

And with just a glance, Zeus understood that they were probably not just any ignorant newborn gods.

As they were born from fate, they were naturally well aware of its workings... so in this world, except for the things hidden and secluded by great powers, from the past to the present, there was little they did not know.

Of course, this did not mean they were all-knowing in some sense, for they were only agents of fate; if they dared to reveal what they knew to those who were not meant to know, they too would suffer the backlash of fate.

"But there are exceptions."

"I am the King of All Gods, the indispensable guide for your arrival in this world... You should obey my commands, shouldn't you?"

His expression serene, as if forgetting the earlier displeasure, colossal power lurked within Zeus, ready but unreleased.

However, opposite him, even the smallest, Clotho, showed no trace of fear towards the Divine King. They regarded Zeus as one might look at a rock, a blade of grass, and not the mightily powered King of All Gods or their legitimate divine parent.

"You brought us forth under the guidance of fate, but fate has already favored you enough. Therefore, to fate itself, it owes you nothing."

With white hair cascading over her shoulders and from beneath her withered visage, a voice equally raspy spoke.

This newly born elder seemed to be a genuine sage of advanced years, imparting her wisdom to the young.

"But we are indeed different, Divine King. We came into the world because of you. Thus, our destinies are indebted to you, and we can assist you somewhat. But this is to be only once, and the backlash of fate that comes with it, we cannot shield you from either."

Backlash?"

Frowning, Zeus did not find the response of the Fates surprising; he had never deluded himself into thinking they would obey him without question. However, he was unprepared to face the backlash of fate—something he had never encountered before.

"Yes, the backlash... sometimes it is indeed not a good thing, but sometimes it is not necessarily so."

With a low chuckle, Atropos offered no further explanation. She simply reached out and gently drew a line, and then, in front of her in the void, she traced the patterns of threads.

In an instant, Zeus seemed to glimpse much, yet none of it stayed in his mind. He remembered only one thread, and upon that thread, the aura was that of Typhon.

"There might be many things you desire, Divine King, like how to become an eternal ruler, like how to make the Primordial Deities bow down to you, but these I cannot do."

"I am but the hand of fate, not fate itself. All I can do is offer you a choice."

"...What choice?"

His expression somewhat grim, Zeus looked at this goddess emanating an aura of 'riddles.'

It was as though she saw through many things but wished to share none with him. This feeling made the Divine King uncomfortable. Nevertheless, his greatest predicament was indeed Typhon.

Fate... was indeed mysterious. But once he completed his own rites, he would have plenty of time to delve into its mysteries. For now, he would let it be and listen to what the Fates could offer him to aid in defeating Typhon.