Black mist descends, and I and the witches take refuge in the dungeon.

"Some things are easier to handle if you don't overcomplicate them."

The goddess did not force Mil to answer the question; she simply ended the conversation there.

Mir sighed softly, then looked up at the Goddess of Light and said:

"I agree to this deal, but I can't guarantee whether I can actually deliver."

"Just do your best. As for what happens next, when you touch my other divine aspects, my guidance will be triggered. Now, while I still have some time, let me explain this statue to you."

Mir knew that the statue the Goddess of Light was referring to was the one that looked like Cthulhu. Recalling his previous strange encounters, Mir listened intently.

"You don't need to worry about time. Here, thoughts are constantly changing, but outside, time doesn't flow at all. Even if you stay here for hundreds of millions of years, there won't be the slightest change outside."

Mil nodded, then asked the goddess:

"Thank you for your explanation. What exactly is the relationship between the black mist and the statue? And how am I supposed to survive in this black mist?"

Mir didn't wait for the goddess to speak; what he needed most right now was a way to survive in the black fog.

If the goddess were to start from the beginning, who knows when she would get to the point.

Upon hearing this, the Goddess of Light gently shook her head:

"Don't rush me. Some things can only be explained from the beginning. Let me ask you, what do you know about the century you live in? Do you know which century it is among all the centuries?"

Hearing the goddess's question, Mil pondered for a moment:

"It probably belongs to the seventh century. I heard something similar when a bard came to Norton to give a speech, and I went to find that bard later."

It was a half-elf long-lived species, but its bloodline must have been very mixed, as it was almost impossible to see any elven characteristics, but it was already over four hundred years old.

I gave him a glass of wine, and he told me some information, but he only knew that we were in the seventh century. As for the earlier centuries, he said they were all extinct, and even he didn't know.

The goddess paused slightly upon hearing this, as if recalling something, before continuing:

"He's right. The century you are in now is the seventh century, also known as the 'Age of the Gods,' and the black mist you are encountering is just a remnant of the first century."

The reason you don't understand the previous centuries is that none of them died out naturally.

The century of death, though leaving behind the most brilliant civilization, will ultimately vanish into the long river of time.

Do you know how many years have passed since the sixth century, which was the seventh century?

As Mir sorted through the information in his mind, he casually uttered a number:

"134513?"

Upon hearing Mir's answer, the phantom of the goddess formed from points of light visibly paused for a moment.

"How...how do you know this with such precision? This is information that even the gods have never shared."

The goddess's question left Mir speechless once again.

He merely stated the duration of the black mist's shroud as given by the system; why would that happen to be the answer to this question?

This was definitely not a simple coincidence, but even Mir himself didn't know how to explain it.

Seeing Mil's silence, the goddess did not press further. She simply looked at Mil and said softly:

"It seems you have more secrets than I suspected."

But I believe in you; at least the Holy Light chose you for me, and you and my Holy Light share the same origin.

After saying that, the goddess slightly stretched out her hand, and a pale golden light screen appeared in the pure white space.

On that screen of light were scenes that Mil could hardly comprehend.

"Just like the time you mentioned, in the span of 130,000 years, even the greatest civilization will be submerged."

But those great things, those things that cannot be buried by time, will eventually be discovered by future generations, who will then piece together the great civilizations that came before them.

But no matter how great a civilization may be, it has ultimately vanished. Now, the timeline has moved on to our time.

The seventh century, the age of the gods.

The black mist you want to know originates from what we, the gods, call the "Outer Gods".

Those things should not belong to this world, nor are they gods that should be born in this world, yet their abilities are as powerful as those of gods, or rather, far surpass those of gods!

In this world, the earliest records of those "Outer Gods" come from the first century.

In the first century, the Age of Chaos, those Outer Gods were called the "People of Chaos."

The goddess paused slightly, as if observing Mir's reaction.

However, Mir simply nodded without saying anything, and the goddess, seeing this, continued:

"The first century, the chaotic century."

As far as we know, the world had no shape back then; light and darkness, life and death, waking and dreaming were all mixed together and indistinguishable.

Before anything had even taken shape, the Chaos People had already appeared.

They devoured everything, covered everything, and completely swallowed up the first century, which was in chaos.

But how exactly it was done remains unknown; all that is known is that a black fog swept across the entire world.

Hearing this, Mil whispered:

"Just like the fog we're encountering right now?"

The Goddess of Light nodded and responded:

"Yes, just like what we're facing now."

"And what about the rest of the centuries? Did death also occur when the black mist arrived?"

The goddess did not answer the question directly, but instead continued speaking to herself:

"The second century, the Age of Elements, is too ancient, so ancient that even the gods cannot know those things."

All we know is that the pure elemental civilization vanished after the arrival of the black mist, leaving behind only the two moons and the sun that now hang high above us.

The third century... You cannot listen to these things, those immortal, unburied great beings. Once you utter their names, you will become their weak point.

They will reappear from your memory, from your perception, so you cannot know.

At least until you are qualified, you cannot even know the names of those things.

They were not allowed to hear, see, or speak; they were not even allowed to think.

But all you need to know is that the demise of all centuries of civilization originated from the black fog.