41. Our House Resumes Normal Operations! (2)
Yu-na's actions were incredibly swift. Returning to the cult, she gathered religious leaders to preach Bahamut's teachings to the faithful, and countless denominations responded to her summons without hesitation. Each group soon selected a representative and sent them to Yu-na, who dispatched them straight to the temple where Bahamut resided. Naturally, these chosen figures earned the profound honor of meeting Bahamut in person within the sacred precincts of the Balhut Cult.
"Th-that… since I've called you here, I'll be the one to speak. It's a strange tale, to be sure, but there's one thing I wish to ask you all."
"What might that be?"
Observing these selected representatives, Bahamut could sense Yu-na's sincerity and good intentions—but it made him uneasy. Desperate to send them back to Gyeongju somehow, he posed a question to the priest who had been chosen as spokesperson, steeling himself for the inevitable. If it was Christianity, this was a question they could never dodge!
"Doesn't your faith teach of a sole god? From what I've heard, even the Ten Commandments declare there is but one true God, yes?"
He began with the famous Ten Commandments, a cornerstone of scripture revered across millennia in Christianity—a pivotal passage in their most sacred myths. The ten laws revealed by a great hero to his people from the divine. The very first: "You shall have no other gods before me," or in some sects, "Praise the one true God."
Other gods. In other words, wasn't worshiping Bahamut a direct violation of the Commandments?
"Indeed. We are honored that Bahamut knows our doctrine so well. However…"
Of course, a priest trained in seminary wouldn't be ignorant of the famed Ten Commandments. They were a vital part of theology, and even in Korea—where they might not recite them aloud—any properly educated priest would recognize that their presence here blatantly ignored the first commandment.
Bahamut had called it out directly, and the priest nodded in agreement, as if to concede the point.
"Yet even in this dire situation, our God has offered no answer to our prayers."
"I-is that so?"
At the same time, he voiced his disappointment and resentment toward a deity who remained silent amid this tragedy. In such hellish calamity, the god this priest served had ignored his pleas entirely. No matter how devout, when one's life or loved ones' hung in the balance and their god offered nothing—no response, no salvation—faith crumbling was the natural outcome.
In truth, it was Bahamut before them—not the priest's one true God—who had saved Gyeongju and this very man.
"But Bahamut alone has delivered our salvation. Is it not only natural to follow the savior who grants it right before our eyes, rather than a heavenly lord who does nothing?"
So even with the Ten Commandments in mind, the priest felt no qualms about venerating Bahamut as a dragon god. Trusting a silent deity over the one who had rescued him and his family? That was the easier path by far.
Indeed, since Bahamut's descent, Gyeongju had been repeatedly saved: the tyrant Jo Sun-do's reign of terror toppled, freedom restored across the city. To not see the dragon before them as humanity's protector would mark one as the odd man out—or mad. Public opinion in Gyeongju now took Bahamut's divinity as self-evident.
"I guarantee freedom of religion. Believe in your old faiths if you wish. I could even endorse them in my name."
"We sincerely thank you for your consideration. But we have already resolved ourselves."
Bahamut, sensing the situation veering into weirder territory than expected, reiterated his guarantee of religious freedom, allowing old faiths to persist—and offering his own backing. But it fell flat with these religious leaders.
Could any faith retain its flock now? In this apocalyptic hell, with gods who did nothing but watch? Especially with a dragon god visibly shielding Gyeongju's people?
Ridiculous.
"Because Bahamut is the god who saved us. Who saved Gyeongju."
Instead, the Balhut Cult—offering a tangible dragon god to believe in wholeheartedly—would only grow stronger. The priest before him was ready to serve the new era's new deity, flowing with the times.
No one was to blame, really. This was just a minor case of superfan zealotry, born because Bahamut had already done everything he could for the cult members. He'd backed their currency on their word, judged the villain Jo Sun-do like a plot twist from a drama, and secured Gyeongju's freedom and peace. He even promised religious liberty now. Who wouldn't support the dragon god?
"And the others feel the same?"
The elected priest wasn't alone; the pastor nodded solemnly in response, and even the Buddhist monk closed his eyes in a deep bow of affirmation.
The one logic Bahamut could somewhat accept came from the monk.
"The path to Buddha we speak of is not confined to Buddhism alone. Even Sakyamuni, the Tathagata, attained Buddhahood through his own enlightenment—without prior doctrine. He taught that the paths to awakening are many. Thus, I believe following this path may lead me and others to that same enlightenment."
Buddhism teaches escape from life's suffering, with Buddhahood as the goal. Yet that path isn't limited to Buddhist precepts. Its founder, the great sage Sakyamuni, achieved enlightenment on his own before Buddhism existed, birthing the faith from that truth. But Buddhism presents itself as one road to awakening—not the only one, not absolute truth. All beings can become Buddhas; every human can awaken. Good and evil, sentient and insentient—all mere steps on the journey.
"Since paths are manifold, following Bahamut can be a valid road to Buddhahood."
"Hm."
Even devotion to Bahamut could be, for some, a path to becoming Buddha. Moved by the monk's solemn sermon, Bahamut nodded gravely.
"Very well, then. Allow me to explain why I summoned you here."
Resigned after the monk's words, Bahamut revealed the reason.
"I plan to hold religious services here every weekend from now on."
""We heard as much from Lady Yu-na.""
"Won't you guide the cult members who visit, using your own talents to lead them on the righteous path? As I said, I'll guarantee religious freedom—even in my name."
The representatives replied in unison that Yu-na had informed them of services in the temple. Bahamut urged them to teach incoming faithful, trusting their sincerity wouldn't veer into cultish territory. He reiterated his promise of religious freedom.
"If I may, Lord Bahamut—are you truly alright with this? Proclaiming religious freedom… doesn't that undermine the cult's faith?"
The pastor turned the question back on him. To lingering adherents of old faiths across Gyeongju—or Korea—it was reassuring: they could keep believing. But for the Balhut Cult, it risked diluting their flock.
"I've never considered myself a god, you see. Nor have I demanded faith from the cult members. Truth be told, their numbers mean little to me."
"I see."
Bahamut outright denied his own divinity, drew a firm line on cult growth, and reaffirmed his indifference.
I don't want to get called a cult god!
Same reasoning deep down! His heart already raced at their swelling ranks; becoming the poster boy for a pseudo-religion would feel like lunch meat.
"You'll need a building for these activities, then. The cult—and I—will support you as best we can."
Thus, he'd uphold religious freedom while aiding these earnest souls. They worshiped him as divine now, in their weakened state, but time would restore them to old faiths. The Balhut Cult would fade, evolving into a normal government. Groundless confidence, perhaps—but time would normalize everything!
"We desire a chapel where the faithful can worship comfortably."
"As do I."
"We too wish for a temple to offer our prayers."
True to his word on supporting old religions, the leaders voiced their needs. Bahamut pondered briefly.
"Hmm, I see. Something like this?"
With a snap of his fingers, he unveiled what seemed a miracle to them. The temple's interior expanded instantly; prefabricated structures materialized from nowhere, assembling neatly in the new space. Moments later, their longed-for chapels and temples stood complete before their eyes.
"How's this? I shaped them with magic, roughly."
What a troublesome fellow. Performing miracles like this, then denying he's a god.
Bahamut called it casual magic, but could they? All these survivors of the zombie apocalypse were Awakened who'd hunted undead. They'd seen fellow Awakened cast spells—none like this. A mere finger snap birthing grand edifices? Humanly possible?
Is this even magic?
Haha, more impressive than we thought.
Bahamut dubbed it magic, but to onlookers, it was mythic scripture made manifest.
Well, they've got institutes researching my spells now. This should pass muster.
The Balhut Cult was even forming groups to study Bahamut's magic—Awakener clubs, mage research societies. Some cultists tried replicating it, but mostly failed or couldn't match the flair.
Who knew leftover temple-building materials would come in handy? Recycling rocks!
The trick was simple: not creation from nothing, but telekinetically assembling hoarded prefab parts from past builds in the cleared space. If they spotted that sleight, it'd seem plausible.
"…This is the chapel for our use?"
"Indeed."
Oblivious to the ruse, they saw only a great dragon god snapping fingers to gift majestic halls—a living legend.
What emotions stir in a faithful witnessing miracle firsthand?
"I've engraved Balhut Cult symbols inside, but for comfortable human use, further work's needed. Speak to Yu Su-seong if required—he handles construction."
"Ah, yes."
If this one isn't a god, who can we dare call divine?
Who knew.