[I Will Grant the One Wish You Desire]
It was Kutula's proposal.
"Anything is possible?"
[If it's within my power, yes.]
A single wish granted by a god—an enormous offer. Gods weren't omnipotent, but by my standards, they might as well be. Could I ask to become a god myself? Even if not that, perhaps a demigod was feasible.
[Kutula of Greed and Wandering. Are you testing my child?]
Juno interjected. I'd guessed Kutula was a god tied to greed. But wandering? That didn't quite fit. Actually, now that I thought about it, Kutula was testing my own greed right now. I severed the budding desire and emptied my mind. Truth be told, the answer had been decided from the start.
"Rewind time to before those two continents clashed."
[Do you know how great an opportunity I've offered?]
Kutula asked again, but my resolve wouldn't waver.
"I do."
[Think it over again.]
This time it was Juno. Kutula, fine—but you shouldn't be saying that. If you'd intervened sooner, all those lives wouldn't have been lost in vain.
"Lord Juno, are you fine with this situation?"
[What do you mean?]
"So many lives have been lost."
[But many remain.]
Juno spoke as if it meant nothing. Even as a god of love. Of course, that form could be a lie, but I'd long suspected gods viewed life differently from us. I didn't meddle in everything I saw through my scattered clones across the continent. I mostly just observed. Perhaps I was acting like a god myself. But I'd watched over countless lives. The regressor Wider, who vowed to live comfortably this time, died trying to save his territory's people to the end. The blacksmith apprentice dreaming of becoming the greatest smith. The farmer who hadn't seen his child in ten years and had finally conceived his first. The girl who lived brighter than anyone despite her poor widowed mother. The genius locked in his room despite his talent. The widower who raised nine children alone. The spider under the new eaves built yesterday. The young queen ant who built her own home. The rabbit couple who lost their young to a fox. The wolf that devoured that fox. Countless stories of the countless lives I'd watched had ended.
"My decision stands."
[You'll truly use your chance on those insignificant things?]
"Yes."
I ground my teeth without realizing it. Insignificant. From a god's lofty view, utterly so. Was I any higher? Probably treated the same.
[My power alone can't fulfill your wish.]
Strength drained from me at Kutula's words. If even Kutula couldn't? Was this the end?
[But pay Jurvan the price, and it might be possible.]
Niala, who had been watching silently, spoke up. Kutula's facial tentacles writhed violently, as if displeased.
"Then it's impossible?"
[It is possible. Will you hand it over to me?]
"If you grant my wish, yes."
[Recorder, accept my offer. It will benefit you.]
Niala tried to persuade me. But my resolve wouldn't shake.
[One last question. Will you give it to Kutula?]
"Yes."
I answered Juno's final query firmly.
[I may lose my epithet of Folly.]
Niala grumbled at not being chosen, but I ignored it. I held out the red gem. It floated lightly into Kutula's mouth.
[The deal is done.]
Juno sealed the contract. And in that instant, the landscape around us—turned to wasteland by the gods' battle—reverted to normal. I didn't know what deal Juno struck with Jurvan, but the power of gods was astonishing even to witness. A force that defied the world's common sense and order.
[And you two still owe me payment. You rampaged in my world—you must pay the price.]
Juno addressed the two outer gods. A thought flashed through my mind. Had he appeared so late on purpose? He must have known about the red gem there from the start. He'd even issued an oracle. Maybe he'd anticipated my choice.
[Understood.]
[We will pay.]
The two outer gods accepted meekly. I didn't know what he'd demand, but Juno seemed the biggest winner here.
[Then begone.]
With Juno's declaration, the two faded into transparency. Only Juno and I remained.
"Lord Juno, was all of this your arrangement?"
Juno gazed down at me for a long while with his signature weary eyes before speaking.
[No.]
He said no, but how could I trust the god of lies?
[Record, the Wandering Recorder.]
The wandering recorder—that was how this god saw me.
"Yes, Lord Juno."
[Do not be bound by the chains of pity.]
With those words, Juno vanished as suddenly as he'd appeared. Time around us resumed its flow. Pity, huh? He saw my wish to rewind time as pity for the world. It probably was. Still, I didn't regret it.
I returned to Akasha Territory. Everything was back to normal. Adults diligently at their work, children playing peacefully, Wider napping, Howard and Argin sparring like they wanted to kill each other. I had no regrets. Trivial to some eyes, but not to mine. What must I do to make all this not trivial? I thought. Yes—record it all. To someone, they might be forgotten as insignificant, but if I record them, they won't end that way. My records would become the records of the entire world. In that moment, my stature rose once more. Far off, Howard soared into the air again, chased by three others.
"Hahaha!"
I laughed the loudest since reincarnating in this human body. No one but me knew, but such a colossal event had ended, and everyday life returned. Chaos did ensue, though. A massive new continent had appeared in the west overnight. Distant, but visible to the naked eye thanks to the New Continent's size. I'd only asked to rewind the East and West Continents' time, not mentioning elsewhere. Kutula complied exactly, leaving the New Continent from the outer gods' clash intact. I didn't exactly lose out. No one but me could cross the sea to reach it. The New Continent was practically my territory. I'd already taken Howard there once. In short, it was useless for now. A continent formed from the deep sea floor thrust upward. Too salty for crops, no drinkable water, not a single tree. Minerals aplenty, maybe, but with only me able to go back and forth, I wasn't desperate enough for them.
"Nothing here—perfect for sparring."
That was some Old Continent beast's impression upon first setting foot. That useless. But time would fix it. Rain would fall, soil accumulate, and eventually it'd be arable. By then, tech to cross the distant sea might emerge, or Old Continent folk might settle it. I occasionally visited, building houses bit by bit with materials from my subspace at prime spots. A hobby of sorts. Once finished, it'd be the world's most unique villa.
Meanwhile, the Ether Empire and Anjur Kingdom with western coastlines grew busy. Naturally, they coveted the New Continent. They started building large ships they'd never bothered with before, forming new navies and training against sea beasts. I just watched. Even if I warned them off, I couldn't halt human greed. By the time I completed a decent villa on the New Continent, the Empire launched its first expedition: 20 large ships, massive scale. Days later, Anjur sent 10. Both poured national power and high hopes—but results were as expected. They underestimated the open sea's terror. The Empire lost half its fleet in a week and retreated. Anjur got three ships back from ten. Both nations sacked officials for the failure, including Baron Telmaier—Yuri's husband. Since Yuri's heart soured, I'd cut ties, but checking on his downfall, I found him in poor shape. Not ill, but fallen from grace in high society alongside her husband, living half like an invalid. Self-inflicted, sure, but pitiable. Nothing I could do immediately, though.
Despite the first expedition's fiasco, the Empire prepped a second. Would past failure pave success? Meanwhile, I spent similar days in my territory. Outwardly, yes. Lately, vassals' pressure intensified. Marriage issue, quiet for a while, now exploding. I had Wider—who knew my past life's bachelorhood—mediate, but he egged them on: "Why not try marriage this time?" No clue his angle, but with no wedding plans, I dodged vassals constantly. Once they realized I could evade forever and gave up, trouble hit the East Continent. A castaway washed up on its eastern coast. Minor—except it wasn't human. Dwarves, a subrace thought extinct long ago on both continents. Guided to Baikal Kingdom's royals, they got lavish treatment. Then dropped a bombshell: Far east across the sea lay the New Continent, where dwarves and other subraces had migrated and thrived ages ago. The revelation rocked the East Continent. Coastal nations began organizing expeditions like the West. I'd watched it all, sending clones far east across the sea. As East and West burned with zeal for the New Continent, I went to meet the dwarves myself.
The dwarves, lodged in fine royal quarters, startled and tensed at my sudden appearance.
"No need to panic. I'm Saint Germain Akasha, Viscount of the Ether Empire and saint of the Divinity Church. Friend to the elves, too."
I showed the bow from the elves.
"Oh! That's the big-ears' bow, alright."
"Big-ears still around?"
The dwarves ignited with fighting spirit. Records noted bad blood with elves, but this intense?
"Actually, I came to ask a few things."
"Want answers? Bring what we want, big-ears' friend."
No freebies in this world? Fine—I had something dwarves would love. And maybe a perfect hook.
"How about this?"
I handed over a bottle of Drakan's brew. One whiff after uncorking, and their eyes glazed.
"Prime stuff."
"Who brewed this? Gotta meet 'em."
As they raved, I grinned and answered.
"Drakan made it."
The dwarves froze like ice.