Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

The next day.

As the great Sun rose, the Goddess of Dawn danced across the sky, welcoming the arrival of the Sun God Apollo.

Winter had passed, and all things in the Mortal Realm were now sprouting anew.

Inside the city of Sparta, Paris walked through the Royal Palace.

The warriors passing by were some shirtless, their bodies scarred; others grappled with each other without knowing why they fought.

As a nation that revered strength, when the King had led people away, those left behind could only vent their energy in this way.

However, without exception, none noticed the traces of Paris's passage.

Holding the Elder Wand, the Prince felt he was like a god with his wishes fulfilled.

Thus far, he had not encountered anything he could not achieve.

And the only thing that possibly limited him, was his own imagination.

After all, imagination isn't fancy; Paris could imagine "the sea drowning the land," but he truly didn't know what that scene would look like, so naturally, he couldn't test whether his strength could achieve it.

Thus, reason told the Prince that his power definitely had its limits.

But at least in Paris's current view, he was an omnipotent being.

And now, the Prince believed that only one thing was left for his life to reach perfection.

"Helen... Today, you should agree to leave with me."

He walked through the corridor, familiar with the path.

Just thinking about the recent experiences, Paris felt a surge of excitement.

Just over a dozen days ago, as adept as the Prince's long sleeves, he had successfully entered the Spartan Kingdom and met Helen, whom he had longed for.

His beloved, his everything; she was still so beautiful, so mesmerizing...

Suppressing the excitement in his heart, Paris had tried his utmost within just a few days.

From an accidental 'encounter' to a soul-stirring conversation, through understanding Helen, every word the Prince spoke resonated perfectly with her.

No one could refuse a soulmate who perfectly shared their values, and if necessary, add to that soulmate perfect beauty.

If the above isn't enough to move you, add immense strength, the wealth of hostile lands, noble lineage, and extraordinary status.

Though Paris didn't have these before, he still won Helen's heart.

And now that he possessed everything, the Prince naturally won the beauty's favor once more.

In just over ten days, Paris took Helen through various novel experiences.

They watched the sunrise together above the clouds and strolled together on a lake under the Moon.

The Prince created a sea of flowers for Helen, then built a high tower out of snowflakes.

Paris could feel, with each passing day, their relationship advanced one step further.

After all, such tactics were unmatched in this era, and even the Prince himself admired his own creativity.

As of yesterday, Paris felt the time had finally ripened.

He asked his beloved, wanting to leave the city with her and then flee far away.

No need for elopement, no need for escape; he would march boldly into Sparta to show these barbarians his prowess.

But it was in this final step that the Prince encountered a problem.

Because, although Helen was willing to go with him, she still had some concerns.

Creak—

"Helen, my Moon!"

"I've come to see you again, only when I see you does my life gain meaning!"

He pushed open the door and entered the palace chamber, swirling with the scent of flowers.

Paris gently shook his wrist, producing a bunch of multicolored roses.

And as if she heard the noise at the door, a captivating shadow walked out from inside.

Seeing the handsome Prince holding fresh flowers, a flicker of surprise crossed Helen's eyes, followed by a hint of mischief.

"Ah—Mr. Paris, you've come again, bringing me a bouquet of roses."

"But I've heard that roses are a symbol of love and beauty, the most cherished flowers of the Goddess on Mount Olympus."

"So my dear Prince, please tell me truthfully and objectively—who is more beautiful, me or that noble Goddess?"

Perhaps at that moment, Helen was still young, so much more vibrant than she would be later... with a mental sigh, a brighter smile graced Paris's face.

It was a difficult question to answer, for everyone knew the truth.

Whether to gods or humans, to believe that she possessed beauty comparable to the Goddess of Beauty was already a limit.

After all, Aphrodite's beauty was indeed impeccable.

One might criticize her morality or temperament, but not her sheer physical appearance.

In this situation, the Prince's praise was either not sincere enough or had to avoid plain appearance.

But clearly, this couldn't truly stump Paris.

"Lady, beauty is a subjective concept, and I cannot guarantee my answer is entirely objective. But if you insist upon a conclusion, then this is my answer."

"The Goddess of Beauty certainly lives up to her title, in my eyes, her silhouette is unmatched in the world."

"And you, my everything, when you look at me, possess a beauty unparalleled in the world."

It seemed like nothing was said, yet everything was conveyed.

Seeing the girl who seemed a bit embarrassed by his words, Paris suppressed some of his thoughts.

As of today, Helen was destined to be his.