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Play the Villain - Chapter 268 - Vol. 2 - Chapter 95: Transmigrator vs. Prophet
🕑 Added 2025-10-14 12:35:48 +0000 UTC“I’ve looked over the rough shapes you left behind, and I think I understand what you’re trying to create.”
“See here—this is a monster, that is a Titan. If we set aside their differences and search for what they share, we can start shaping a more complete design…”
“For such a creation, you need at least one head for thought, two arms for handling tools, and two legs for walking.”
“Two eyes for vision from different angles, two ears to hear the sounds around them, a mouth and nose for breathing and eating…”
Samael crouched easily on the ground, spreading out parchment covered in anatomical sketches as he explained to Prometheus in detail.
As the prophet studied the diagrams, watching each organ take its place step by step, revelations burst through his mind like thunder, tearing away the fog to form a clearer outline.
“Symmetry must be emphasized—harmony gives true beauty!”
“And based on my calculations, the best proportions come when height to leg length is maintained at 1:0.618. That’s the most pleasing effect to the eye.”
Athena leaned forward eagerly, her gaze appreciative as she added her own observations. Then, with a mischievous glint, she winked at Samael beside her.
The golden ratio? That was just something I tossed out in class, and you actually worked out the numbers.
The ancient serpent looked at Athena, her chin raised proudly like a swan, and couldn’t help but be impressed by her intelligence and persistence.
“Don’t focus only on appearances. Give them noble qualities—those are far more important than the sculpting of flesh.”
“Let them be humble, fair, and honest, compassionate to the weak, courageous against disaster. Even an ugly body will shine if it houses a noble soul.”
Medusa stroked one of the twisted clay figures, casting a soft glance at Athena as she gave her advice with quiet conviction.
“Aaaa!”
Tina bounded over excitedly, nodding with a bright smile in full agreement.
Prometheus’s eyes gleamed, his heart racing with uncontainable excitement. The way he looked at them grew warmer, more appreciative by the moment.
He had thought that if these uninvited guests simply didn’t interfere, that would already be a blessing. But instead, their ideas shone like stars, bringing revelation after revelation to him, the seer.
They carried wisdom beyond their kind, foresight beyond their age.
“What do you think this species should be called?”
Prometheus asked as he flipped through parchments, jotting notes and sketches into the clay ground. Looking up from his work, he sought their answers.
“Humans!”
Medusa replied without hesitation, her expression tinged with remembrance and awe.
Seated on a rock, Samael rested his chin on one hand and watched the gods’ fervent discussion with a smile. Then, with a soft hum, he spoke.
“Humans… yes. This will be a magnificent masterpiece!”
“Ah, what graceful bearing! What refined conduct! What noble reason! What tremendous power!”
“In their actions, they resemble saints. In their wisdom, they mirror the gods. They are the essence of the cosmos—the crown of all creation!”
Like a hymn, his words echoed in Prometheus’s ears, lighting his eyes with wonder.
The prophet shoved aside his earlier grotesque prototypes, smashing them with disdain, then stood back with a touch of melancholy.
For a creation meant to change the world, ordinary clay and stream water would no longer suffice.
Medusa stretched out her palm, revealing a swirl of vibrant, earthen-yellow light.
At the same time, Athena snapped her fingers, and a magic circle flared between her hands. A vessel of stone, inlaid with multicolored gems, appeared in the Goddess of Wisdom’s grasp.
The [Vessel of Life], a sacred relic of Gaia, Mother Goddess, contained the essence of great rivers and ocean currents, granting vitality to all things.
Gaia had given Medusa the [Primordial Soil of Life]. To balance the scales, the ancient matriarch had also gifted Athena this vessel before her departure.
Of course, to be fair, Athena only held it temporarily. Once creation was complete, it would need to be returned.
Fitting, really. The abyssal Earth Goddess with the [Primordial Soil of Life], and the sky-born Goddess with the [Vessel of Life].
Leaning against a rock, Samael watched the two girls, smiling slyly at their subtle rivalry.
As the earthy glow rained down like stardust and the water of life poured in, the mixture became living clay, pulsing with vitality before Prometheus.
An unprecedented surge of desire to create welled up in him. His hands reached eagerly for the clay, desperate to bring this new species into existence.
The moment had come—a turning point destined to be remembered in history.
Watching silently from behind, Samael’s lips curved upward in quiet anticipation.
But just as Prometheus’s fingers were about to touch the clay, his hand froze. Slowly, he rose, turned toward the others, and let out a long, heavy sigh, shaking his head.
“Forget it...”
“Forget it? Then what about humanity?”
Samael’s head rang, his face shifting as the words slipped out. The rest echoed silently in his mind.
What about the history of heroes? How do I push forward the separation of the Age of Gods?
No, come on—everything’s prepared, we’re just one step away, and now you’re backing out?
Yet after saying those words, Prometheus seemed strangely at ease. He let out a long breath, a smile spreading as he looked gently at the others.
“Humans… such a perfect creation. Naturally, they should be entrusted to a more fitting creator.”
Athena and Medusa felt his gaze fall on them, their expressions tightening in shock.
“You mean… us?”
The prophet laughed warmly, nodding.
“Of course.”
“I may have brought the prototype, but it was Samael who refined humanity’s structure. Their intellect was shaped by Athena, their virtue was championed by Medusa, and the materials came from the two of them.”
“So, you are far more suited than I am—to shape their forms, to grant them reason, and to guide them into the future.”
Athena and Medusa exchanged startled looks, then turned toward Samael.
We… create humanity ourselves?
A path neither of them had ever imagined.
Scarred by the cruel fate he had endured in Mesopotamia, Samael had instinctively clung to the idea of letting Prometheus craft humanity, making him the gravedigger of the gods.
But now, with every condition already in place—why shouldn’t they do it themselves?
The more the ancient serpent thought about it, the more possible it seemed. His heart surged with anticipation.
But when he lifted his gaze toward Mount Olympus, its peaks spearing into the heavens, it felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over him.
To create humanity with their own hands would mean directly opposing the gods. If Athena and Medusa were exposed, the consequences would be disastrous.
And even Gaia, now on the verge of returning to her origin, might not be able to stop Zeus at the height of his reign.
Sensing Samael’s unease, Prometheus patted his shoulder with a knowing smile.
“Don’t worry. With you here, Olympus won’t notice these changes.”
“And in name, the creator of humanity will still be me.”
Samael’s head snapped up, his serpent pupils narrowing as he locked onto the seer’s unfathomable gaze.
He knows!
