The conclusion Ryuga had arrived at previously was that Star Gods weren't born from nothing, but were transmuted from some kind of existence.
Afterward, he emphasized that Star Gods' birth was related to the development of interstellar civilization—this was clearly a characteristic of planetary indigenous gods.
If the two points were combined, what he wanted to say became crystal clear.
"You couldn't possibly be saying that Star Gods at this level are the result of planetary indigenous gods ascending dimensions, right?"
Herta supported herself on the table with both hands, her head extremely close to Ryuga's, her light purple eyes staring at him unblinkingly.
This was quite a bold, quite insane conjecture, one with quite many fatal loopholes.
It wasn't that no one had proposed similar ideas before. After all, Star Gods were gods, and planetary indigenous gods were also gods. For those powerless ordinary people, there was no difference between the two—they both belonged to a type of divinity.
But as far back as the early period of Star Gods' birth, quite many research personnel had already falsified this conjecture.
As later generations saw more and more Star Gods, and research on Star Gods increased, this conjecture was gradually abandoned. By now, even children wouldn't think the two were equivalent.
Given the abilities Ryuga had previously demonstrated, Herta found it hard to believe he would support such a hole-ridden view.
However—
"To a large extent, that's how I see it."
Ryuga's answer directly affirmed this point.
Hearing this, Herta stared at Ryuga without a word until she confirmed he wasn't joking. Only then did she sit back down and inquire with a serious expression.
"Why would you think this way? How could Star Gods capable of shaking universal scales possibly be the same type of existence as planetary indigenous gods who depend on faith to survive?"
"Even if it's transmutation, some basic framework structure must remain unchanged, right? Gods who need faith to survive and gods who completely don't need faith—even their basic forms of existence are different, aren't they?"
She didn't rashly deny Ryuga's opinion, but instead conducted a cautious inquiry.
She did this for two reasons. First, she had already acknowledged Ryuga and didn't think he would make baseless claims.
Second, the Genius Society had historical precedent for similar matters.
The Genius Society's second member once confirmed the existence of phlogiston, but not long after, the third member disproved phlogiston's existence. Just when phlogiston was treated as a joke of pseudoscience throughout the entire universe and scorned by everyone, the seventh member once again proved phlogiston's existence.
With this precedent, no matter how absurd Ryuga's conjecture seemed, as long as he himself received Herta's recognition, Herta would treat it seriously.
Because she deeply understood one point.
That is, the more absurd and incredible a conjecture is, once it's proven successful, the greater the monumental waves it will cause.
If she missed the opportunity to understand Star Gods' origin due to arrogance in the face of truth, she would definitely regret it for life.
Herta's inquiry was very serious, and the reason she gave was the most capable of distinguishing Star Gods from planetary indigenous gods—the most convincing reason.
One treated faith as life itself and would disappear without faith, while the other completely didn't need faith and even had quite a few with tendencies to destroy worlds. They couldn't possibly be the same thing!
Facing this matter-of-fact question, Ryuga shook his head and asked in return.
"Do you understand faith?"
"Huh?"
Herta was stunned, then immediately answered.
"If it's faith in Star Gods, my assessment is it's completely useless. Star Gods care about faith even less than they care about ants."
"If it's indigenous gods' faith, I've conducted some research on existing materials, but I dare not say it's particularly in-depth. I only know that for indigenous gods, faith is their basis of existence. Without people believing in them, they'll disappear."
In today's interstellar society, though planetary indigenous gods couldn't be said to be nearing extinction, they had long stopped developing and entered museum-level existence.
Relying solely on remaining materials, Herta had some understanding of this, but materials obtained without field research and investigation tended to be quite distorted, so she didn't dare say she completely understood.
Hearing Herta's statement, Ryuga immediately shook his head.
"First, let me correct you on one point. Those who disappear without people believing in them are only gods from the earliest stages of mythological development—those animistic deities."
For example, early religious tribal gods, or the eight million miscellaneous gods of Japanese mythology serving as filler—only these spirit demons and minor deities were this fragile and dependent on faith.
In proper pantheons, these mountain spirits and wild monsters could only be considered as unaffiliated demons.
"Oh? I know a bit about animism—it is indeed an early stage of religion. You mean indigenous gods in later stages don't need to depend so much on faith?"
Hearing Ryuga point out her error, Herta's eyes lit up as she curiously pressed for more.
"I can't say they completely don't depend on faith, just that the way they depend on it differs from what you imagine."
Ryuga shook his head, then spoke.
"Do you know how many methods gods have to obtain faith?"
"No idea."
Herta immediately shook her head vigorously.
Not knowing wasn't shameful—what was shameful was being unwilling to admit it. In the domain of gods, it was only natural that Ryuga knew more than her.
After all, Asta had already told her about his identity.
"Then I'll give a brief introduction. The most primitive gods can only absorb faith through others' worship and fear. Once they lose believers and are forgotten by everyone, they'll naturally disappear. This type is generally called tribal gods or indigenous gods."
In his area of professional expertise, Ryuga spoke eloquently.
In ancient times, countless gods completely disappeared due to tribal defeat and annexation, thus losing faith.
What Herta mentioned, and what the vast majority of people in this world knew about, were only gods at this stage.
"Afterward, as eras developed and various civilized tribes communicated with each other, different gods constructed complex mythologies. Later, rich and colorful mythological stories replaced singular divine faith and became mainstream."
"During this period, gods could obtain faith through humans' transmission of mythology. Even if they lost believers, were no longer worshipped by anyone, and were even forgotten by the vast majority of people, as long as they remained part of mythology and mythology was still being sung, they wouldn't completely disappear."
"I call this type of god a mythological god."
With the help of mythology, even the weakest gods needn't worry about disappearing, while powerful gods could also amplify their power through faith.
For gods, joining mythology could be said to be the optimal decision, bar none.
"Interesting—lowering the difficulty of obtaining faith and increasing faith's sources through a risk-sharing method?"
Herta immediately grasped mythology's ingenuity. More abundant stories could attract more believers and also reduce gods' dependence on believers.
"However, even so, they can't completely escape dependence on faith, right?"
She keenly pointed this out.
"If even mythology is forgotten, wouldn't an entire pantheon disappear along with it?"
Weaving mythology could only reduce risk, not completely overcome it.
Mythological gods still needed to depend on faith and weren't the same thing as Star Gods.
"You make a very good point. Indeed, quite a few mythological gods also perished due to mythology's loss."
Ryuga nodded, affirming Herta's line of thought.
Mythologies could be defeated by larger mythologies. If they were absorbed it was still manageable—gods could still exist with changed appearances. But in the case of species-extinction-level wars or encountering certain natural or man-made disasters, mythology's inheritance could indeed break.
"To compete for faith, to avoid being forgotten, various pantheons and their pantheons' believers would naturally have all sorts of conflicts."
"In the war of all gods, people quickly discovered that victorious pantheons all had certain commonalities transcending spacetime. Through researching these commonalities, a brand new method of obtaining faith emerged."
Speaking to this point, Ryuga paused before continuing his introduction.
"This commonality is the true core of mature mythology—cosmology."
"Cosmology?"
Hearing this term, Herta tilted her head.
"You mean a unified view of this universe?"
"Exactly."
Ryuga nodded.
"With mythology's help, individual gods can be replaced in absorbing faith, and with cosmology's help, mythology can be replaced in absorbing faith."
"Therefore, even if people have completely forgotten mythology, as long as they still remember and recognize mythology's core cosmology, gods won't perish."
"I call gods at this level civilization gods."
Actually, cosmology's utility wasn't limited to this, but here, the main focus was still discussing the relationship between faith and gods, so Ryuga didn't expand too much.
Hearing Ryuga say this, Herta immediately pressed.
"If humans forget the corresponding cosmology, won't they still disappear?"
"No."
Ryuga shook his head decisively.
"As long as civilization continues, they can't possibly forget these things."
Otherwise, he wouldn't have given them the title of civilization gods.
"Why do you say that?"
Herta inquired with slight puzzlement.
"No matter how precise a cosmology is, won't it easily be forgotten over time?"
"Quite the contrary—the cosmology at mythology's core often isn't precise and can even be called crude and simple."
Ryuga shook his head and explained concisely.
"For example, Zoroastrianism's good-evil dualism—as long as one maintains basic dichotomous thinking and recognizes that good will inevitably triumph over evil, that counts as inheriting this cosmology."
"For example, Buddhism's 'no-self in all phenomena'—as long as one constantly explores their inner heart and cognizes that 'all forms are non-forms' and 'all actions are impermanent,' that counts as inheriting this cosmology."
"Or for instance, Taoism's 'Dao,' Christianity's original sin and theory of forms, Roman mythology's cultural fusion... Actually, understanding these cosmologies doesn't even require knowing the mythology. As long as one lives in the corresponding cultural background, even atheists are inevitably completely permeated by the cosmology."
A very simple phenomenon—when someone asks another about something and says "do you know," perhaps they themselves are completely unaware, but the character for "know" (知道) they use contains the character "Dao" (道), which embodies a fragment of cosmology.
In this situation, cosmology had already become culture's foundation, a thinking tool helping humans understand the world, deeply engraved together with human history on planetary chronicles, becoming civilization's foundational bricks and stones.
Even if one destroyed their own writing, betrayed their own civilization, and obliterated their own past, they couldn't erase the way of understanding the world within their minds.
At this level, with worldview's help, civilization gods could almost be said to coexist with humanity's intellect and civilization.
"Under this cognition, regardless of whether individuals love or hate mythology, whether they're theists or atheists, even if they're completely unaware of gods' existence, gods can still absorb faith through their cognitive framework."
Speaking thus, Ryuga looked into Herta's eyes and posed a question.
"Do you think civilization gods in this form would still be dependent on so-called faith? Would they still care about so-called believers?"
"...No."
Herta slowly shook her head.
The civilization gods Ryuga described had an attitude toward faith that infinitely approached Star Gods'.
No—it couldn't even be called infinitely approaching!
Thinking of something, Herta's expression became slightly dazed. After lowering her head in thought for a long while, she raised it again and said to Ryuga in a dreamlike tone.
"Hey, have you noticed that the cosmology you mentioned and the abstract philosophical concepts Star Gods represent seem to have very high similarity?"
"Of course they're highly similar."
Ryuga nodded quite calmly.
"The so-called mythological cosmology itself is the result of processing the simple philosophical concepts of ancient peoples. The two are essentially the same thing. Sometimes cosmology is even more complete."
In other words, the concept of civilization gods was already very close to Star Gods condensed from philosophical concepts.
"..."
After receiving confirmation, Herta didn't show a joyful expression. On the contrary, her expression twitched slightly as she looked toward Ruan Mei nearby.
Ruan Mei nodded silently, indicating she found no problems.
Seeing this, Herta heavily slapped her own forehead.
"I must be insane—actually thinking the hypothesis you proposed makes a lot of sense. Not only can it perfectly corroborate most issues, it can also explain Star Gods' origins... If this is really true, the entire universe's understanding of Star Gods will be overturned."
"Who would have thought Star Gods are actually related to planetary indigenous gods?!"
Even though she'd considered this possibility long ago, when truly convinced, Herta still felt she needed time to accept it.
To be continued…