This is the torch.

Quietly sleeping in the darkness for thousands of years, weak light like a touch of dawn in the abyss. A goddess extends her hand, warm and soft, smiling as she guides her children forward. Everyone is utterly shocked by this scene, unable to speak for a long time, even Brand is no exception.

"Lord Marsha…" murmured Qian, Funiya, and Mephisto in a trance.

She has never given up on her children, like the flame that remains resilient amidst erosion, burning through the darkness until her children arrive here once more. It is a lighthouse, emitting gentle yet great strength, penetrating hearts.

Brand looked up, a rare solemn expression on his face; this is the transmission of civilization. After countless eras, they have arrived here again, picking up the torch left by the ancestors on the ground, letting the fire of civilization pierce through darkness once more. A sacred feeling flows through his blood, he can feel the indestructible pulse of strength with his eyes closed, a longing of all wise beings for civilization, order, fire, and light.

When Prometheus ignited the first torch on the wide and dark earth, civilization stepped out of ignorance for the first time, beginning its unending quest toward the Bright World. That feeling, passed down through bloodline, awakening suddenly at certain moments, like a horn across the vast earth, instantly bringing people back to the era of exploring within the barbaric.

This is the will of the ancestors.

Brand took a deep breath, he couldn't help but turn back to look at the others. Mephisto nodded at him, Qian nervously placed her hands on her chest, somewhat uneasy looking at him, Funiya glanced at them and then at Brand, somewhat confused.

"Then I'm off, let the firelight spread throughout this earth." Brand replied.

"Go ahead." The Gray Sword Saint looked slightly solemn at this 'lighthouse'.

Thus Brand turned back, stepping up the staircase, approaching the massive crystal. The crystal emitted a constant gentle light, and as the people looked up they saw him step by step walking towards the light, which seemed to transfigure into robes and crowns around him.

At this moment, a phrase from the Poem of the Blue of the Cruz people suddenly flashed inexplicably through Mephisto's mind:

"Child, I shall give you wings made of light, so that I may crown you as king—"

Though he believed in his heart this was but nonsense, in such a scene, the heart of this Gray Sword Saint couldn't help but thump wildly. This moment and this scene, how it resembles Brand walking step by step toward Martha, and that supreme goddess, preparing to crown the young man who lowers his head.

But he didn't know, such a feeling resonated more strongly within Brand's heart. The closer he got to the light, the more intense the light became, as if it were going to envelop him wholly. He reached out, placing his hand on the crystal, his heart jolting, and couldn't restrain such words from emerging:

"Lord Marsha, after hundreds of years, your children have returned here again—"

But what happened next almost made Brand let go and tumble down from the pyramid directly. Because without any warning, a strange will responded from within the crystal, gently wrapping around him, sighing:

"Yes, it's been a long time, my child."

"This, this…"

Brand found his mind suddenly blank, only a voice echoing within; this is Martha! This is the mother of all Supreme Saints, the world's pure benevolence, Martha! That countless NPCs and players have praised as the Lady Goddess really exists! But this can't be!

His mind felt like it exploded with a thunderous roar, a majestic boom instantly causing his thoughts to freeze completely. No players would believe that in the era after the All Gods had retreated, Martha still exists in this world, although she left goodwill, only a memory remains.

People wistfully recall this goddess, hoping she remains in this world, able to continue watching over her children. Because the world needs a spiritual pillar to live strongly.

Martha no longer exists, only the strings of law remain between heaven and earth, after the four Supreme Saints, this is the common understanding of all people.