64.
64.
Had you perhaps ever heard the name Ichadon?
I had learned that long ago, when Silla first embraced Buddhism, a figure named Ichadon offered his own body as sacrifice and spurted white blood, achieving martyrdom.
Of course, it was an exaggeration. How could a person spurt white blood? Unless Ichadon had been a Reptilian, I suppose... but who knew.
What I wanted to say here was that I had expected the same effect as that anecdote.
Even if I could not shatter that enormous boulder, if I struck it hundreds of times and at least left my fist mark on it, that alone would already be a great feat.
That was how I had intended to force the issue and crush the many superstitions of this land in a single blow, but...
The situation was taking a slightly strange turn.
"So, this... was something you did...?"
"Oh-"
Not only Stórolf and Refil, who had witnessed my martial prowess countless times, but also my retainers—who had come running all smiles at the news that 'Konungr Helgi had split a huge boulder with his fist this time'—found themselves, for once, utterly unable to shake off the shock.
Of course, my brothers Björn and Halfdan were among them.
"...It ended up that way."
"Oh-"
"Wow-"
The performance, which I had carried out as if possessed, driven purely by instinct, had clearly left a powerful impression on the people.
Around the huge boulder that had split lengthwise centered on my fist mark, wooden stakes carved with all manner of runes had been driven in a circle, ropes had been strung around it, and those ropes had been adorned with rune stones bearing the names of countless gods—beginning with the symbol of Hel, then Odin, Thor, Tyr, and many others—alongside all kinds of grasses and flowers.
Behind the three of us brothers, who stood closest watching the split boulder, a sea of people had formed: priests who had been holding prayers in the area for days now, the citizens of Uppsala who made sure to visit at least once a day, and people who had come from Árós and beyond after hearing the news.
'It's become a tourist attraction...'
Who would have thought that an eccentric act begun with a will to reform religion would unexpectedly bring an economic boom even to Uppsala? I wondered if I should smash a boulder somewhere in Árós as well.
"Björn, didn't you say you had something to tell me?"
"Oh-ho— Ah, right. I had forgotten. A merchant came down from beyond the far northern mountains, and the goods he brought are no ordinary matter, Helgi."
He was maintaining his poker face, but as a brother who had watched Björn for a long time, I could see that he was deeply unsettled. When I casually addressed him, a weighty answer soon came back.
'No ordinary goods, he says.'
If Björn was saying something like that, there must be something to it.
"That merchant—you said he's in Árós right now?"
"Yes, his speech did not seem to be that of one of us Norsemen; I think he is of the Sámi people from the far north. I've had him stay on the outskirts for now. He came riding a reindeer, you see."
"He came riding a reindeer?"
A reindeer?
"Haha. Yes, it was quite a large creature with truly beautiful antlers. Horses cannot even travel across those frozen lands of the north, so it is their own means of getting around."
My desire to see this for myself only grew. Could Santa Claus actually have been a real person...?
"As it happens, the matters here are not yet finished, so I am sorry, but I'll have to call him here to Uppsala."
"Alright, I'll send someone."
"You're not going yourself?"
With his gaze still fixed on the split boulder, I asked Björn, who was answering somewhat dismissively. My brother scratched his beard and said,
"Now that the Konungr has returned, I should go back home. In case you'd forgotten, let me remind you... I'm retired. Erik is still in Árós, so there won't be any problems."
"Oh, really."
Now I saw it: looking at the boulder was an excuse—he'd slipped away to avoid work.
"Fine, Erik is reliable enough. I'm going to hold a Thing with the priests in the hall—shall I set aside a separate seat for you?"
"No, a Thing with the priests sounds dreadful. I'd rather just stay here and take in a little more of the proof of the god who appeared in this world through your body. To think I'd see such a sight in my lifetime..."
He sure made shirking work sound grand. Still, Björn was mild-mannered compared to Halfdan, who looked as though his wits had left him, mouth hanging open. What's with him, like someone seeing a split boulder for the first time?
"...Alright, I'll see you later, Björn."
"Yes, see you later, Helgi."
Leaving behind Björn, who seemed completely absorbed in the boulder, I led Refil and Stórolf, who were still staring at the boulder as if entranced, and headed toward the longhouse.
*****
"Therefore, listen well: the reason a person falls ill is not because he is wicked or has drawn the wrath of the gods, but because tiny, invisible bad things enter our bodies. So, if one wishes to avoid falling ill, one must wash diligently and eat well."
[Squeak- squeak-]
[Swish- swish, swish- swish-]
The first National Assembly of Godis, convened under Konungr Helgi in Uppsala's great hall.
To record this monumental first event, I ordered the all-around talent Refil to take records in rune script, and I likewise had Leon—a Roman who was nearly all-around in scholarly fields—take an empty book and write down my words in Latin. Leon had already raised his level of the Northern tongue to some degree, so there would be no major trouble. Even if he made mistakes, I could just correct them later.
Thus, the hall was filled only with my voice, low and slow, enunciating clearly, and the sounds of the two scribes recording on thin wooden plates and paper respectively. I had wanted Refil to use paper as well, but since he was not yet accustomed to paper and quill, I had him record with what was familiar to his hands. The transcription could be done later.
Perhaps because my performance the previous day had been so shocking, the state of the priests, who had seemed half out of their minds back then, looked a little better today, and thanks to that, they were listening to my words with their eyes burning. How surprising it was that those stubborn people should listen to anyone's words so ardently.
Of course, they could not fully understand everything I said, but what mattered was that a beginning had been made, was it not?
"When lightning flashes in the sky and thunder is heard after, it is because light is faster than sound. It comes from rain clouds colliding with one another; it is not, I say, the wrath of Thor. The cycling of summer and winter happens because this world in which we live revolves around the sun in a great orbit, and that cycle is precisely one year."
My developed brain could pull up memories of all sorts of documentaries that had passed fleetingly in my previous life as if they were brand new.
Therefore, I strove to recall as much as I knew—what I had seen on television or YouTube—about natural phenomena.
The movements of the sun and the celestial bodies, basic knowledge of germs... the importance of hygiene... rational interpretations of natural phenomena... Naturally, such things would not immediately seep into people's minds.
In a sense, this was beginning and ending simultaneously.
Showing people the finish line at the same time as the starting line. I had already seen the answer from the future, so the path to get there would now have to be found by my people.
What I had to do was unfurl as much of my knowledge as possible, and then protect it.
No matter how much I shattered boulders, parted the sea, or summoned meteors, people were fundamentally susceptible to superstition...
Yes, this was a kind of spiritual, psychological war.
"And buried deep beneath this land are the bones of dragons that ruled this earth long, long before we humans ever existed—but let us continue that tale tomorrow. The day has grown late, I see."
"Oooh— Dragons!"
"Yes, Konungr."
"To the glory of Hel!"
Leaving behind the godar, who had grown quite docile after I had smashed the boulder to pieces, I steadfastly escorted my mother, who had resolutely held her place beside me, into the inner chamber of the longhouse.
The guards lining the corridor bowed their heads one after another, and soon, when we arrived before Mother's door and I was about to bid her goodnight and withdraw, she suddenly stayed my steps.
"Helgi."
"Yes, Mother."
As always, my mother's face bore a serene smile. It was unmistakably a gentle smile, yet I had a premonition that something inescapable was approaching, and unfortunately, it was not wrong.
"I do not doubt for a moment that both men and gods will ultimately follow the path you lead. But for that to happen, you must also do your duty. Is it not about time you started a family?"
"..."
As expected.
Though she normally paid little mind to the direction of my rule, or even to the fact that I had spoken of the death of the gods—despite being the High Priestess of Hel herself... For some reason, ever since I brought Constantinos back from Constantinople, Mother had been applying steadily intensifying marital pressure upon me.
I heard she looked after the child in my stead since I was busy, and she was originally the sort of mother who personally took in and raised orphaned children back in Árós... so it was not particularly strange, but the timing was the problem.
"Instead of saying you will think about it, would you promise me this time that you will truly consider it seriously?"
"Of course, Mother! I swear by the name of Hel... I shall look into a bride soon."
"...The one who has received the favor of Goddess Hel more intensely than anyone else, yet disbelieves in the gods more than anyone else—it makes me rather curious about the efficacy of that oath."
"Mother, what a thing to say. I am Hel's champion. You saw the boulder I shattered, did you not?"
At my somewhat aggrieved, pleading tone, the worry etched on Mother's face seemed to ease a little. She let out a hollow laugh and struck my forearm with a [chalsak-] slap. Her hand still stung sharply.
"If only you could not speak... Anyway, do not dismiss this as an old mother's excessive worry, and make sure to ponder it deeply. I must take my leave now."
"Yes, Mother. Rest well. The Thing looks to continue for some time, so if it becomes taxing for you, would it not be fine to excuse yourself?"
"I am not yet so decrepit, so you needn't worry so much. And."
Mother's eyes held a moment of hesitation. But soon, those deep green eyes looked upon me with strong conviction.
"...You will laugh it off if I say this, but I do not believe that those stories are entirely your own. I cannot shake the thought—could it be that the Goddess is speaking through your lips?"
Having already grasped that I was a son of the High Priestess yet leaned remarkably close to an atheist, my mother seemed to worry about my reaction, which tended to grow somewhat cynical whenever the gods were discussed. But in truth, my real position on god was closer to 'I do not know.'
I did not know whether the Lord exists or not, whether the gods of Asgard exist or not, whether some chuchu god in a place in Africa truly exists or not.
Because I had never once seen them, nor heard them.
However, regarding Goddess Hel, to be honest, it was also true that this conviction wavered. To blindly deny it—there were too many phenomena that had unfolded before me. And yet, to affirm it—had I not already experienced the world of the 21st century?
A world where faith had entered the realm of choice.
"That may be so, Mother."
'How else could a man shatter a massive boulder with a single punch.'
I did not, however, voice the latter thought aloud.
*****
Professor Helgi's natural science lecture, masquerading as a Thing, continued for roughly another week.
What had begun with only a few godar seated and listening soon drew the forceful demands of idle folk who had come from Uppsala and Árós, prompting a change of venue. And so, before the people gathered in the circular plaza that the genius engineer Leon had hastily designed, I carried on with a lecture that had no prior plan.
"Now, this is the land upon which we live. Do you see that part sticking out long and narrow?"
"Ooooh-!"
"This here is our current location, Árós."
"Oh-"
"This here is the Novgorod I visited, beyond it Kiyiu, and below it, Constantinople."
"Whoa-"
I did not yet show the people the entire map of the world. For now, it was just the approximate positions of Northern Europe and, below it, as far as the Mediterranean Sea.
Of course, even this rough diagramming drew cheers from the people... (Leon, who had been appointed my scribe, seemed the most excited of all: "Such a precise coastline!").
But going beyond Iceland and Greenland, out toward what lay further, still held many difficulties and required vast preparation. For now, it was enough to shatter their conceptual world.
The godar, who had been bewildered on the first day, seemed to have reached some sort of agreement among themselves. All of them began adorning themselves with the symbol of Hel alongside the symbols of the gods they served, and started emulating the relatively simple—almost plain—attire of the priests of Árós and Uppsala.
It was a vestment upon which my mother and I had exerted strong influence. Basically, a pure white cloth garment, with decoration around the neck reflecting each individual's character.
'They're halfway won over now. Shall I move on from here, from Italy up to France...'
Religion and the gods were now pushed to the background. Amidst the murmuring of the people of Árós and Uppsala, who had become absorbed in the fascinating class of natural science and world geography, a voice interrupted me just as I was about to continue the next lecture. It was the voice of my brother, Björn, who had audaciously been absent while handling the various administrative tasks of Uppsala.
"Konungr Helgi! A man has come from Árós! He says the merchant mentioned before has arrived, and that he brings a gift for the Konungr!"
Ah, the one who leads the reindeer—
"Now, let us stop here for today. Do not forget what you have learned today, and when you go home, try drawing it once!"
"Yes, Konungr!"
"Árós, Visby, Novgorod, Polotsk... Ki... What was it? Kislev?"
"What, I just got here and it's already over?"
"Oh... my friend... Alas, you have lost half your life...!"
"Damn it! At least tell me something!"
"For free?"
As I moved among the people, some satisfied and others disappointed, my heart pounded with a sense of anticipation I had not felt in a long time.
'Reindeer...!'
How many chances would one get in a lifetime to see a person who rode a reindeer?