Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Solve the Problems on the Ground First
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Citadel Republic skies.
Airship Artabus.
Powered by sky crystals imbued with the divine power of the Heavenly God Aldehir, the airship floated along as it carried out its routine observation duties today, just like always.
Strictly speaking, the Heavenly God was an incomplete deity. Born from deficiency, he yearned for completion, but no one knew if that day would come before the end of the world.
How vast was the sky? How mysterious were the unknowns unfolding there?
Why did lightning flash, thunder rumble, the sun shine, and rainbows form? And why did those stars in the sky move like that?
Gazing at the heavens, one encountered countless mysteries. This longing for those enigmas was a sentiment shared by all humans, transcending culture and race to some degree.
The sky is so wondrous. I want to know why.
Those feelings gathered and swelled, giving birth to a god who harbored a yearning for the mysteries—a god who craved the secrets of the heavens.
Thus, the Heavenly God Aldehir hoped his followers would explore astronomy. The more heavenly mysteries were unveiled, the stronger his power grew.
In contrast, the Triune Gods and the evil god Oberta—treated as equals among the continent's five great deities—were gods who had ascended to divinity through human attainment of godhood. Unlike Aldehir, born from hopes and aspirations, their origins differed fundamentally.
That was why they regarded each other warily and avoided contact. Among personal gods, those born from faith were vastly different from those born human.
Much like how the Triune Gods could not comprehend the Death Gods, and vice versa. Though not born from grudges or negative emotions, Aldehir was actually more akin to the Death Gods.
"Come here, take a look at this. Get a better lock on the sun."
The followers of a peculiar god were peculiar themselves. Pope Nergal Foem of the Aldehir Church handled the instruments himself, despite his station, peering through lenses.
He deftly installed various lenses and tilted the large telescope toward the sun. Of course, looking directly through a solar telescope would melt one's retinas. Now, they needed to project the image through filters for safe observation.
"You do it, Your Holiness. I'm busy right now—keeping the Artabus at altitude."
The cardinal of a peculiar god was peculiar too.
Cardinal Omen of the Aldehir Church flatly refused the pope's request—and he did look genuinely busy. They had ventured into the stratosphere for observations because ground-based ones were hindered by city lights and clouds.
"You insolent fool, heavenly retribution will strike you down!"
"Bring it on! It'll probably just be a few lightning bolts at most. That guy's too fond of us to let us die."
Even the followers of this peculiar god ruthlessly mocked their own deity. They knew no retribution would come.
Alde Hir paid no mind to his followers cursing him to his face, as long as they pursued knowledge of the heavens. His way of thinking differed from humans'.
"Look at this damn thing. Do I really have to get grease on my hands at my age...?"
"Quit your grumbling, old man! Just get to work! Who doesn't get their hands dirty?"
With no divine authority asserted, the followers treated each other casually too.
The Aldehir Church had remarkably fluid hierarchies among its clergy. Even lowly priests could meet the pope directly, and he would write them personal letters. Anyone with a thirst for heavenly knowledge was welcomed regardless of status. Within the church, all were comrades.
United under the goal of exploring the skies, they formed one vast fellowship.
Naturally, the pope of such a church was a man more devoted to the heavens than anyone. In his youth, he had assembled hang gliders and soared through the air strapped to them.
Even younger, he had roamed the mountains collecting bird feathers to craft massive wings mimicking flight.
"Do we really have to drag the Artabus out in broad daylight instead of at night? What kind of ordeal is this because of your stubbornness, Your Holiness? It's daytime! Everyone's supposed to be sleeping!"
The cardinal's prickliness toward the pope stemmed from this: daytime was rest time for Aldehir followers who typically observed constellations at night. Dragging everyone out for solar work had the lower priests sulking in silence.
"Some things just don't show up properly from the ground."
"I'd get it if it were stars! But the sun looks the same from up here or down there. How could ground lights, clouds, or atmospheric turbulence obscure that blazing light?"
"A few days ago, I spotted something odd on the sun. It hasn't appeared since, so I wanted to check from up here—maybe it'd show."
Fiddling with the lenses to focus, the pope sighed in disappointment.
"But it's not there. Maybe I imagined it. Still, I definitely saw it—something on the sun's surface... like a living blob of fire moving around."
"Then let's head back and sleep."
"Suppose we... Wait, hold altitude a bit longer. There it is. I see it now."
Wondering what nonsense the old man was on about, the cardinal turned—and his eyes widened too. On the projected image of the searing sun's surface, a tiny speck like a millet grain wriggled and crawled.
The magnified sun was about watermelon-sized, so a millet speck there implied an unimaginable real-world scale.
"W-What is that?"
"No idea. A living creature?"
"No way... That's the sun! The surface couldn't host life. Even Grimudo couldn't survive there."
But to my eyes, no matter how I look, it seems alive.
Nergal swallowed his words. If it was alive, what was it doing on the sun's surface?
Suddenly, a passage surfaced in the pope's mind: When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back. If they were observing it now...
Then why wouldn't it be observing them and this world in return?
Exactly as you think. It is watching this earth.
At that moment, a boy's voice echoed in the pope's head. The god of the skies—more precisely, the god who explores the skies—had observed the thing on the sun through his pope's eyes the instant it was spotted.
Fascinating. Worth making you pope. One more secret of the veiled heavens unveiled today. My power grows accordingly.
"Lord Aldehir. What is that thing? A living being?"
I don't know either. Observe it more.
The pope grumbled inwardly. Other gods descended with majestic halos for their oracles, every word profound and awe-inspiring. Their god scorned such theatrics.
If he wanted to talk, he talked. This non-human-born deity made little effort to mimic human sentiments.
As long as one yearned for the skies, whoever they were.
They were already, to some extent, Aldehir's followers.
But first, solve the problems on the ground.
Thus, Aldehir spoke plainly of any matter.
Problems on the ground? What problems?
This time, the pope didn't even need to ask.
Boom! An explosion roared, followed by deafening blasts that tore at eardrums—not once, but repeatedly. Amid the near-infinite cacophony of destruction, all priests rushed to the deck and peered below.
Black dust blanketed the skies, shoving aside clouds to fill the space with ash and smoke.
The Artabus, once drifting idly above clouds, now sailed over a river of dark sorrow and tribulation. Even the wisest could not venture a guess as to what catastrophe had befallen the ground.
"What in the world... is happening down there?"
Even the pope was speechless. Cardinal Omen, once irritated, now stood rigidly beside Nergal, staring blankly at the ash clouds. They formed a barrier severing earth from sky, blocking all light.
From here, they could see stars beyond the heavens but not the land directly below. No one dared speak of the events unfolding on the surface.
"Has... something happened to the Citadel Republic?"
Only after a long silence did Omen speak. The Citadel Republic had once been excommunicated by the theocracy. Though the decree was lifted with the goddesses' tacit approval and hefty donations, they had prepared for potential repeats.
Thus, the republic's doge had lavishly sponsored the Aldehir Church, funding the Artabus's construction and lending lensmakers for mass-producing telescopes. To the church, the republic was a staunch patron.
Of course, its downfall would harm the church financially.
But in this crisis, such concerns were secondary. Imagining the suffering masses chilled them to the bone. Just pondering the death toll sent shivers down spines, bodies trembling involuntarily.
"Descend for now."
Unusually, no one objected to the pope's command.
Even Aldehir priests weren't so arrogant as to act freely amid such national calamity. They hurriedly adjusted the Artabus's altitude.
"Go... tend the wounded and recover the dead."
Coughing through the impenetrable ash, the priests piloted the ship. The airship descended in a graceful arc. Witnessing the ground's fate filled them with dread.
But one thing was certain.
An unimaginable calamity had struck.
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