Chapter 19 19: Age of Humanity

The skies above Mount Olympus were painted with hues of fire and ash. The once-glorious halls of the gods lay in ruin, the thrones shattered, their divine essence scattered across the wind like golden dust. Amid the smoldering remains of a pantheon, one figure stood alone at the summit, his silhouette framed by swirling smoke and the dying light of a broken realm. Edward stood there, his breath steady, his chest rising and falling beneath the tattered remnants of his armor. The aura of his Heroic Spirit form flickered around him for a moment longer, like a dying flame resisting the cold, before finally vanishing into golden particles. They drifted upward, caught in the breeze, before dissolving into the bloodied sky. It was done. He had slain gods. He had shattered Olympus. He had ended a pantheon that once ruled over mortals with unquestioned authority. And yet... he felt nothing. No joy. No triumph. No satisfaction. Only emptiness. He was going with the flow ever since his arrival, but now that it was over, he didn't know what to do next. His bloodstained hands hung at his sides. His eyes, once filled with divine fury, were now hollowed by the weight of what he had wrought. He had killed for justice. He had killed for vengeance. But above all, he had killed to set humanity free. And yet freedom tasted... empty. His boots crunched against the broken marble as he moved to the edge of the peak, looking out across the world below. Far beneath him, the clouds parted. The Earth stretched endlessly, unaware of what had just occurred atop its forgotten mountain. With a wordless command, Edward summoned a spherical device from the Gate of Babylon, gleaming silver, embedded with ancient runes, humming with arcane power. A treasure from a time long past. It was a broadcast orb, a relic capable of transmitting thought and voice to every living soul on the planet. But its true power came not from its construction, but from the one who wielded it. Edward bore the skill All Speak: A-Rank. It was more than translation, it was understanding. Language, intent, emotion: all carried perfectly across any boundary of culture, dialect, or belief. Through this orb, his voice could echo in the minds of kings and beggars alike. From the jungles of the Amazon to the icy plains of Siberia, from desert tribes to crowded cities, they would all hear him. He inhaled slowly. The weight of the moment was not lost on him. This was not just a speech. This was a declaration to the world. He looked to the sky , quiet, expectant , and stepped forward. His voice rang out, calm, steady, resonating like thunder rolling across the Earth. "Humans all over the world... today marks a new beginning." His words spread like wildfire through the minds of men. In the valley of the Nile, fishermen dropped their nets. In Babylon, priests halted mid-prayer. In the palaces of Mycenae and Hattusa, kings froze with goblets in hand. In the Indus lands, scribes and potters lifted their heads in quiet awe. From the olive groves of Crete to the wind-swept plains of the Anatolian plateau, everyone heard him. Across the planet, people stopped what they were doing. The sound of working quieted. Conversations fell still. Children looked up. Elders held their breath. It wasn't a loud sound they heard, not exactly, it was a voice inside them, speaking clearly as if from beside their ear. "No longer will humanity be ruled or terrorized by the gods. No longer will you pray for mercy from those who feast upon your suffering." His voice carried weight—not just in sound, but in judgment. Like a storm given form. "The gods of Olympus are dead. I killed them for that very reason , as a warning, and as a declaration." Shock rippled across the globe. In temples, priests gasped and screamed. Scholars wept. But no one could deny the power behind the words—this was not metaphor. This was truth, carried by the weight of divine annihilation. "No longer shall humanity rely on gods to change their fate. I say this to all the gods—humans are no longer your puppets." "This is not a boast. It is a promise. If any god dares to rise again and twist your fate for their amusement—I will come for them too." Edward's voice deepened. "...I shall end your existence." The sky rumbled. In Asgard, Thor clenched Mjolnir in rage. Odin narrowed his eye in calculation. In the Slavic realms, Perun howled, declaring that the Godslayer would fall. But in other corners of the divine, Japan, Egypt, and the south, there was no outcry. Only silence. Thoughtful, unsettled silence. Horus grinned at the audacity of this man. Ra just sighed and shook his head, but there was a smile on on his tired face. Edward continued. "I speak now not to the divine, but to you—the sons and daughters of the Earth. You who till the soil, who build homes from stone and mud, who bleed and laugh and dream." "You are no longer bound to them." "From this day on, walk your own path." Edward's eyes burned, not with anger, but with something purer. Conviction. "Forge your own fate. Stand on your own legs. Protect one another, not because gods tell you to, but because it is right." "Build, grow, love. And when life strikes you down... rise again." A pause. His voice softened. "Do not look to the sky for salvation. It is not coming." "You are free now. Make the most of it." Edward's tone shifted, more sincere and warm. "From now on, humans are free to live your own lives. To follow your dreams. Those of you who are strong , protect the weak. And those who are weak, strive to become stronger so you can protect the others." "Help one another. Create, rather than destroy. Make peace, rather than war. Together, you can reach heights beyond imagination. This is your age now. This world belongs to you." The words stirred something deep within the human heart. In slums and palaces, people wept without knowing why. Warriors set down their weapons. Mothers clutched their children closer. Some men and women fell to their knees, not in worship, but in awe. "At times, you may feel lost. You may feel hopeless. But never give up... for light awaits after darkness." His voice now trembled, not from fear, but from resolve. His emotions touching their hearts. "This is a new dawn." "This era... belongs to humanity." "And I... shall watch over you. Until the very end." A pause. A breath. The final, resounding blow. "I, Edward Elric... hereby declare the end of the age of gods—and usher the age of humanity!" And then, absolute silence. A stillness fell across the Earth, deeper than any night. A moment of pure, collective pause, as all mankind processed the truth of what they had heard. The reaction was the same for most: disbelief, awe, and something else, Hope. Some were afraid, fearful of what this new world meant. Some were doubtful, could they truly stand on their own? But many raised their eyes to the sky and smiled. A smile not born of comfort, but of freedom. Because deep within their hearts, they all felt the same thing: Admiration. For the man who had challenged the divine. And love, for the stranger who had promised to watch over them, not as a god, but as a guardian. In the halls of Hattusa, the Hittite scribes recorded the trembling of the earth and the silence of the gods. In Memphis, Egypt, the priests of Amun stood frozen before their sacred idols—silent, for the first time in generations. In the Aegean, the Mycenaeans cast their eyes to the mountain and saw only smoke. But in their hearts, they felt a strange calm. They felt that something had ended... and something greater had begun. Across the steppes, the jungles, the deserts, and the rivers, the message echoed. It did not matter what name they had for their gods. It did not matter who they bowed to. They all heard him. And they all felt it: The divine order had fallen. Some would fight it. Others would deny it. But none could unhear the voice. On Mount Olympus, the wind blew softly now, the fires slowly dying. Edward stood there for a moment longer. He looked down at his hands, at the blood that was no longer there. The weight would remain forever. But he had spoken his truth. And now... the world would answer it. Far above, the gods stirred. The Norse seethed. The Slavic gods declared war. Their pride would not allow such defiance to stand. Set tried to rally the Egyptian gods to strike him down. Yet not all were enraged. In the Far East, beneath cherry blossoms and sacred shrines, the Shinto gods watched... in silence. Amaterasu closed her eyes. Susanoo furrowed his brow. They did not speak. Because deep down, a question echoed even among them: Was he right? Maybe... it was time. Time for the gods to step back. And let humanity walk on its own. ***** The wind whispered softly across the cliffs of shattered Olympus, carrying with it the last echoes of Edward's voice—his declaration of a new world. The golden light of sunset bathed the broken realm in a somber glow, and the blood of gods had long dried on the stones beneath his feet. Edward stood there, at the edge of that hallowed peak where thunder once roared and divine law reigned supreme. No longer. His form had returned to that of a man, the Heroic Spirit's blaze now reduced to a faint shimmer behind his golden eyes. And as silence settled across the ruined halls of the gods, he exhaled slowly—softly. "Now then," he murmured to himself, voice low and distant, "show me, dear humanity. Show me that I wasn't a fool to walk this path... That my choice has brought hope for you all. Usher in a new era, free from the shadow of the divine." There was no applause. No divine choirs or mortal celebrations. Just wind, rubble, and the faint glint of ichor still splattered across marble walls and shattered statues. Edward turned his gaze from the heavens and began his descent. When he reached the mountain's base, his path did not lead to conquest or worship. There was no throne he sought, no banners to be raised in his name. He had slain the gods not to rule—but to free. That was his promise. That was his burden. Yet as he walked, he did not forget vengeance either. Athena knelt before him, one of the few surviving major Olympian. Her silver hair was tangled and matted with dust, her red eyes hollow, yet not vengeful. Even in defeat, she retained the quiet dignity of wisdom, though her voice trembled. "What will you do now? " she asked, her words shaky. Edward gazed down at her, impassive. "I don't know. But I have done what I could. And as for you...." With a snap of his fingers, power surged from his hand, a cursed echo of divine magic Athena's body writhed as her form shifted grotesquely. Serpents slithered from her skull like cursed locks of hair, her beauty unraveling into a monstrous visage. Her limbs grew thick, clawed, twisted by a curse of humiliation and penance. She yelled in pain, grasping at her melting flesh. "You judged Medusa unjustly," Edward said coldly. "And now you shall live as she did, a monster. I cast you to Knossos. There you will remain... until your redemption is earned." Athena, despite being in pain didn't curse. She merely closed her eyes in acceptance. Before she could utter another word, he flung her into the skies like a comet. A flash of golden light and a boom of wind marked her departure, toward the ancient island where labyrinths once held legends and truths. And then, without another glance back, Edward walked away. He did not soar through the clouds on Vimana, nor teleport in godlike bursts. He walked, just like an ordinary man. Like the humans he fought for. His boots touched the sand of the Aegean shoreline as the sun dipped below the horizon, turning the sea into a shimmering orange. The sky was marred with dusk, and the wind carried the smell of salt and silence. He stopped, letting the waves lap at his feet. He said nothing, watching the tide wash in and out like the breath of the Earth. The sea held many memories, of old myths, of sunken cities, of prayers to gods now long dead. But Edward had no prayers. "Perhaps," he said softly to no one, "there's hope for humanity. Perhaps they will rise above the chains once forced upon them. Or perhaps they'll fall, into the same path of destruction as the world I once knew." He breathed out softly. "But whatever happens... whatever burden is placed upon me... I shall bear it." Then, within his mind, a voice stirred. [You are quite an interesting man, Edward,] said Caster's voice, resonant and ancient, filled with curiosity. [I don't know whether what you've done is good... or evil. Will it bring order or chaos? But I know this,] his voice softened, [you have given them hope. You've granted them freedom. Something I once yearned for. For that... you have my respect.] Edward smiled faintly, the corners of his lips twitching. [Thank you, Caster. That means more than you know.] Then came another voice, rougher and deeper. It would send shivers down your spine, yet held an undeniable charm. [I stopped believing in hope,] Ruler said, his tone like ashes on wind. [Or in freedom. Or divine intervention. Perhaps that's why I became a monster in my own story. But after what I witnessed in that ruined world...] A silence lingered in his voice, before he admitted, [My thirst for blood, for vengeance... it disappeared somehow . I'm still not sane fully, but I have more clarity than ever. Maybe... maybe this was all fate.] Edward chuckled, the sound quiet and tired. [Thanks, Ruler. Though I still don't understand how you qualify as a Ruler-class Servant, considering you're...] Ruler's voice shifted, lighter, more amused. [A monster? Did you think I would scream for blood again? Rip out heads like I once did? Go on a bloody rampage?] Edward shook his head. The waves curled at his ankles, receding. [No,] he replied quietly. [You are not a monster, Ruler, despite what they called you. You were just a hopeless man who sought to protect his people at any cost. Despite your means, I admire your resolve.] There was a pause. And then, Ruler laughed. A deep, hearty, human laugh. [Hahaha! That's the first time I've heard a hero admire a monster! You're really a strange one, Edward Elric. But... thank you. Truly. I only hope the day never comes when you must call upon my power against your precious humanity.] Edward's expression faded to solemn again as he looked out toward the vast open sea. The stars were beginning to emerge, blinking in the darkening sky like the eyes of silent gods long replaced. [I hope so too, Mr. Red,] Edward whispered. The waves crashed louder, as if the sea itself acknowledged his words. [ I hope so too...] He stood there—no longer a god-slayer, no longer a hero forged in myth. Just a man, on the shores of a new world, waiting to see if humanity would rise... or fall. And in that stillness, the Age of Gods truly ended. And the Age of humanity began. **** Who do you think Ruler truly is ? ???? He will probably be the final hero to be revealed later.