The Meaning of God

The volcanic cave. A face growing darker within.

I gazed at the god who had suddenly appeared. He was still smiling, and Kala behind him spoke.

"You can go."

No matter what, he was the final boss. The one tasked with ending the game. The being who would either close the curtain on the play or collapse the stage itself.

Thus, this encounter was inevitable, and the conversation an essential step.

"Follow me."

I approached him. He smiled serenely and beckoned.

"To my homeland. Let us journey to the Divine Era."

A voice infused with mana.

His single word transformed the dark volcano.

Altering the scenery, shifting the space.

As if the entire world resonated with him.

Naturally. Inevitably.

……Chirp— chirp chirp—

The faint cry of birds rising gradually. Clear sunlight descending from the sky.

I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them. My retinas captured the landscape of a "vastly distant past."

"……."

It was a village even more primitive than the current continent.

Huts and thatched homes akin to tribal society. No concrete or cement whatsoever—just structures made from natural materials. Lush greenery in the mountains, transparent streams, a harmonious warmth.

Villagers with smiling faces passing between them.

"This is the village of the gods where I lived."

Simpler, perhaps even humble compared to now, yet brimming with utterly transcendent mana for all…

The scenery of the Divine Era.

"Come with me, Deculein."

He pointed to the largest place of worship in this serene village. I nodded.

"Our village's daily routine begins with worship."

As we trudged along, he scanned the surroundings with nostalgic eyes.

Speaking as if he still lived here among the villagers.

"In this hall… the house of worship, we receive the god's revelations."

Creeeak— He opened the door to the hall.

Inside were many believers. All sat with eyes closed in prayer, awaiting revelation.

"Look, there's me too."

Where he nodded was Sophien.

Flame-red long hair and crimson eyes like wine.

Exactly like the current Sophien.

"She resembles your emperor, doesn't she?"

"……Indeed."

At my response, he smiled.

"Your emperor was modeled after the flesh of that era."

I stared at him.

His words puzzled me.

No—all the villagers were enigmatic. Their appearances were uniformly beautiful, yet devoid of any elements distinguishing gender.

"We don't die, so there's no need to define gender."

As if reading my mind, he explained softly.

"Why divide into genders and produce offspring when we live eternally? Everything is the god's will. We simply live in faith."

He spoke as if it were the most obvious thing.

I could only sneer. A profound revulsion washed over me, and I shook my head.

A life excluding human freedom. A life obedient solely to the god's will.

It was no different from the fatalism I utterly despised.

No, it was fatalism itself.

"A life of puppets."

"Is a faithful life mere puppetry to you?"

"No difference."

"Hm… I respect that."

He nodded with slightly puffed cheeks and continued.

"In any case, we had no crime, no laws, no petty jealousies. But I don't think it was a life of puppets. There was exchange among villagers. Under the god's grand will, we laughed, cried, got angry, and loved."

Snap—

He snapped his fingers, and the scene shifted.

Now it was some lecture hall buzzing with voices. Villagers ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠debated and argued over a few sheets ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of paper inscribed with revelations.

"After worship, our work is interpreting the god's revelations."

I couldn't understand their conversation. Even my trait "Understanding" struggled with this intricate language structure.

Still, I imprinted all that information and dialogue into my mind.

"We analyze the revelations, study them, feel divinity in the process, record history, and draw one step closer to our origins…"

Muttering thus, his face suddenly turned pitiful, and he fell silent.

His lips curved in a smile, but his eyes trembled as if weeping while watching the scenery.

Is this what longing incarnate looks like?

"This… is our era. The god's words become our duty, that duty our lifelong task, living each day with renewed gratitude to the god…"

Watching him lost in sentiment, I clicked my tongue.

Pathetic.

"……But."

Suddenly, his demeanor shifted. He clenched his fists tightly, grinding his teeth. Hostility blazed in his taut pupils.

……Did he just read my inner thoughts?

Fortunately not, as he spoke.

"One day. The god died."

A low tone, yet brimming with a passion like a cry. An undying rage clung to it like embers.

Still unextinguished.

"……The believers killed him."

As he lamented thus, the entire scenery vanished. The world sank into darkness.

From within echoed a shout utterly unlike the prior peace—filled with fury, murderous intent, and hatred.

Still incomprehensible, but it was clear they blamed each other.

Emotions transmitted before the words' meanings.

"We desperately investigated who killed him. What ungrateful beast dared slay their creator god—and why. In that process, I…"

Crackle— A lantern ignited in the pitch-black darkness.

Faint red light illuminated the space.

"Became the sinner."

It was a prison. Inside was he, with Sophien's face.

In a village of only thatched huts and wood, "iron bars" had been invented for the first ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time.

"Our sin was failing to properly interpret the revelation."

"Revelation?"

"Yes. The god had foreseen his own death."

He looked at me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and conjured letters in the air.

"We interpreted this single line differently. Factions formed. I mistakenly thought we needed to serve the god more faithfully, but in truth, the god spoke of apostates. We should have hunted and purged them, but I didn't know."

He closed his eyes. His lips truly trembled with resentment.

I asked.

"What happened after?"

"……We fought for an exceedingly long time. Immortal beings obsessed with ways to kill each other. Eventually, we scattered to all corners of the continent."

He answered with regret, then continued like verse.

"Some greedy ones became the progenitors of giants, some disappointed ones the seeds of fairies, and the apostates I suspected of deicide…"

Suddenly, his hatred-filled eyes glared at me.

I smiled coldly and nodded.

"Became humans."

"Yes. But not only that. Most apostates became the roots of humanity as you say, but the remaining few became what you know as 'a certain race.'"

He posed it like a riddle, awaiting my answer.

But it was simple.

"Demons, you mean."

"Correct. Humans and demons share the same origin. The demons you so despise are ultimately just one branch of humanity. If all you humans were exterminated, those demons would be called humans."

"……Is that the end?"

"Hm?"

"One remains."

Then he smiled wordlessly and pointed to his chest.

"Me?"

"Yes. And what did you become?"

"Haha. You know already. Do you want to hear it from my lips?"

He placed a hand on my shoulder—tap— patted it twice, then flicked my forehead with his finger.

"I sought to resurrect the god. Even after his death, I remained a believer."

Once more, the scene shifted.

The same "village of the god," but now a disaster unlike before engulfed the space.

Roooar—!

A whirlwind of volcanic ash and sand. A gale devouring the entire village as if rebuking the godslayer.

In the midst of that blinding cataclysm, someone shouted massively. A desperate roar echoed.

A person identical to Sophien.

Precisely, "he" standing beside me now.

He screamed until his throat tore, trying to hold back the departing ones, but was swallowed by the sandstorm.

No one turned at his blood-spewing cries; all departed coldly.

Instead, they mocked him as a fanatic now that the god was dead—what need for believers?

He tore at his hair in the most wretched wail.

When his voice gave out, he staggered after some, clutching their pant legs. Kicked and trampled, yet he blocked their path.

But when they gave no glance, he pelted their backs with stones.

Thud— thud— thud—

Stones falling feebly.

Nothing changed. Left alone at last, he knelt, tears streaming.

Surveying the empty village with hollow eyes.

His dazed mutter was pitiable.

Soon, he rose alone and returned to the worship hall.

The empty place was filled with torn and burned former revelations.

Staggering like a puppet with cut strings, he gathered the paper scraps by hand, assembled them, enchanted them against damage, sat in the worship hall, and awaited revelation.

Praying endlessly amid the raging sandstorm.

Offering his time and faith.

"……Return to me once more. Accept my infinite atonement."

Snap—!

The sound of snapping fingers. All scenery vanished in that instant.

Back to the volcanic cave.

"Yet the god never resurrected. Despite my prayers over millennia."

"……Millennia?"

"Yes. I spent all my time there praying. Waiting for him alone."

He gave a bitter smile.

I watched him silently.

"The worship hall where I stayed for those long ages became severed from the world. That was my death, but I didn't know."

……Fitting for the final boss.

His faith might surpass my mental fortitude by leaps and bounds.

"What think you? Can you now understand me?"

He extended his hand as he spoke.

"Deculein. This continent was born from the sin of deicide."

His hand waggled up and down, playfully urging me to take it.

"Thus, this continent needs faith. The descendants of godslayers need a chance at forgiveness. The god couldn't return, but I will become their god."

"……."

"The god would want that too. For I served him more truly than any. I have the qualifications and power to be a god."

Roooar—!

In that instant, magma surged from below, illuminating the cave's darkness. Crimson light clung to his face.

I sighed and shook my head.

"You already know my answer. One who can't even read my heart can't become a god."

Even at my mocking words, he merely nodded calmly, lips pouting like a sulk.

"I know. Still, I wanted to tell you. You're such a waste of talent."

He shrugged. Then chuckled, raising his index finger.

"But, Deculein. One thing I want to ask."

"……."

"What do you think of someone like me?"

No need for thought in that question.

I answered immediately.

"……Ridiculous."

No matter how great or pitiable the "he" before me, in reality, he was just a game character.

In that sense, if judging solely by existential rank, perhaps "Kim Woojin" outside the game was superior.

For he was part of the company that created this world.

Thus…

"Truly ridiculous. You, who failed to become a god, failed to resurrect one, died as a mere believer. You, clinging to the vain hope of godhood."

"……."

His expression hardened briefly.

But soon he shook his head and smiled.

"Human. No, Deculein."

He called my name in a serene tone.

"I want to see the exposition. All the continent's magic and technology gathers there, right? I've had this vessel less than a week. I want to see more of the world."

The Yuren Magic Exposition.

His face lit up with sudden anticipation, eyes sparkling.

"And beyond that, see the countless humans of this continent, judge if they can be forgiven their original sin. Feel it directly in this body."

"……And if they can't be forgiven?"

"Why ask the obvious?"

He furrowed his brow slightly and punched my shoulder lightly.

"We clean house. Faith is permitted only to the worthy. Oh, you qualify, so tell me anytime your mind changes."

I inwardly nodded once more.

Why this final boss was the final boss.

"……Oh, right."

He stepped forward and pointed to the volcano.

"This volcano will erupt soon. Not due to magic or explosives. The law of nature. Nothing you or that child can change."

He nodded toward Kala, asleep on the bed.

"To that child, I gave the excuse of faith. She qualifies too."

I glanced at Kala. Her ragged breathing seemed ready to cease any moment.

"So flee. A mere human can't stop it."

"Is that so."

"Yes."

"……Very well."

I nodded and set down the suitcases on my back.

"Even if this eruption is nature's law, as you say."

I unpacked the assorted materials pilfered from the Ashes Heap shop.

"We can minimize the damage."

His eyebrows twitched.

"I'm not the type to yield so easily. Accepting any calamity under the excuse of 'providence' would make one unworthy even of humanity."

Based on the Ashes Heap reagents and catalysts, I began improvising "Alchemy Magic" on the spot…

Then.

—It's just a volcano here. Should've eaten more.

—Yeah. Nothing, right?

—No. I sense something below.

Voices descending from above—Ifrin, Rose, Al Ross.

"Haha. Your companions have arrived."

He smiled at me, and I cleared my throat awkwardly.