The God of the Wheel
The items that the Outer God, a deity created by mortals, dropped down like breadcrumbs for Hansel and Gretel were not merely food and weapons. A sturdy, waterproof tent made of khaki nylon fabric was set up, cleverly camouflaged among the bushes. Inside, soft cotton sleeping bags—cheap, yet perfectly capable of blocking out the cold—were spread out. The group of dwarves sat huddled together in that comfortable tent, enjoying a rare, warm respite.
Hiss-! A blue flame burned fiercely from a portable burner connected to a small, flat butane canister.
Inside an aluminum pot placed over the flame, a yellow liquid bubbled, filling the air with a sweet, savory scent that made their mouths water. Bjorn carefully turned down the burner, picked up a ladle, and began scooping the boiling corn cream soup into wooden bowls to distribute to the group.
"Hot! It's burning!" The children gulped down the soup, blowing on it frantically as it scorched their palates. The soft, sweet flavor of the corn and the salty umami coated their starving stomachs with warmth. Without a word, the children tore off large chunks of the remaining white bread, dunked them deep into the soup, and devoured them ravenously, their faces smeared with yellow broth.
"Munch, munch... Old man, this is seriously to die for! It’s way softer and better quality than the white bread those human bakers at the Nine Peaks used to sell for a fortune!"
One-eyed Torvi exclaimed, his mouth full of soup-soaked bread.
"Those greedy bakers and millers demanded so many silver coins for their flour sacks. This is the first time in my life I’ve eaten such high-quality bread to my heart's content."
Another young warrior nodded, spearing a piece of meat from a round tuna can with his fork and popping it into his mouth.
"And this meat is incredible, too. The texture is like chicken... but looking at the picture on the outside, it seems to be a fish. It’s a strange-looking fish I’ve never seen in the rivers or lakes of Eden. What on earth is it?"
He chewed the meat along with a piece of sweet chocolate the Outer God had tossed them, savoring the ultimate "sweet and salty" combination.
Bjorn scraped the bottom of the pot for the remaining soup while intently studying the mysterious symbols and characters printed on the steel can.
"Who knows. It’s probably meat made from giant fish caught in a deep, rough sea we could never hope to reach, not the shallow coastal waters of Eden."
He traced the smooth, cut edge of the can and the strange black lines of the barcode with his finger.
"But one thing is certain: these sophisticated items are definitely not creations conjured up by the destructive, chaos-crazed Outer God himself."
"What? What do you mean by that?" The warriors drinking their soup looked at Bjorn with puzzled expressions.
"Think about it. Why would a terrifying divine entity that destroys worlds go through the trouble of stamping out steel cans of a uniform size and engraving letters on them one by one? Besides, these strange phrases are too regular and standardized. It’s like a mass-produced product churned out by a large-scale workshop."
Bjorn’s seasoned, sharp blacksmith’s intuition was piercing through the essence hidden within these modern artifacts.
"If my guess is right... this Outer God sponsoring us must have a massive army of minions or an independent civilization in some unknown dimension. These items are likely daily supplies created by the minions of that highly advanced civilization. The Outer God is simply transmitting them to us."
A heavy silence fell over the tent at Bjorn's sharp deduction.
A massive army of minions and a highly advanced civilization in an unknown dimension. The overwhelming scale was far beyond the imagination of young dwarves who had spent their entire lives mining ore in the remote corners of Eden.
Then, one of the young warriors scraping the tuna can spoke up cautiously.
"Elder... if I may. Could it be that this being helping us isn't a malicious Outer God or someone ruling a civilization in another dimension, but... the 'God of the Wheel' who only existed in legends?"
The air in the tent froze at his words.
The young warrior, sensing the mood, continued hurriedly. "Doesn't that explain everything perfectly! The sophisticated manufacturing technology that spits out fire! The fact that he’s so favorable toward us lowly dwarves! And the fact that he appeared like a comet at the very moment of this terrible disaster when the gods of the Pantheon have vanished!"
"You fool! Shut your mouth and watch your tongue!"
Bjorn tried to roar like thunder but hurriedly suppressed his voice, scolding him. His scarred face twisted with anger and bewilderment.
"You’ve gone completely mad! How dare you utter that terrible heretical name in this situation? Do you truly not know what horrific divine punishment would befall you for such blasphemy if the gods of the Pantheon were to return? We are in a situation where even this hellish destruction we are experiencing might be a harsh test from the gods to weigh our weakened faith!"
However, the young warrior did not back down, retorting with a resentful expression.
"It’s already killed too many people to be a test, Elder! Besides, didn't you already strike a deal with that unknown being? It was you who offered your life's savings as tribute and wagged your tail like a dog while flattering him!"
Bjorn was left speechless by the hit to the mark.
"Th-that... you're right. It is true that I offered tribute and struck a deal." Bjorn fiddled with his beard in embarrassment and began to make excuses cautiously. "But... that doesn't mean I’ve completely abandoned my faith and committed apostasy. I only made the deal to keep the children alive; I never swore to sell my soul to that being, whether it’s an Outer God or the God of the Wheel."
A suffocating silence descended upon the tent once more at Bjorn's pathetic excuse.
As everyone stared silently at their empty soup bowls, Bjorn let out a deep, heavy sigh and spoke.
"Haa... The God of the Wheel. That’s a sinister name I haven't heard in a very long time."
Bjorn’s hollow eyes sank into dark memories of the past.
"Before this damn disaster struck, or rather, before you were even born, it was a terrible heresy that was born in a deformed way, influenced by the arrogant and stupid atheistic ideas of those high-and-mighty mages."
He looked at the young warriors in turn and lowered his voice as much as possible.
"Originally, the absolute truth of Eden was clear. The gods created mortals, and mortals must rightfully repay that grace by offering faith with their blood and sweat. That was the perfect gear that kept the world turning."
Bjorn kicked a stone on the ground.
"But at some point, a blasphemous idea began to spread like a poisonous mushroom among the blacksmiths of the Nine Peaks and some technicians of the human kingdoms. It was a crazy theory that someday, the wisdom and overwhelming technology forged by mortals themselves would coalesce to give birth to a 'God of the Wheel' with a body of steel and infinite power, and that this created god would drive out the arrogant existing gods and save us into true freedom."
The young dwarves swallowed hard, listening to Bjorn’s story.
"The mages of the tower who spouted nonsense in the middle of the square were so powerful and useful that the church just ended up beating them up periodically as if it were a folk event. They were too big to kill off."
A bitter sneer spread across Bjorn’s lips.
"But the situation for us dwarf craftsmen and the few technicians who believed in the God of the Wheel was different. Unlike with the mages, the inquisitors of the Pantheon crushed them thoroughly. Anyone who even mentioned the philosophy of the Wheel was dragged to the underground prisons of the Nine Peaks and quietly 'taken care of,' and the blueprints they scribbled were all branded as heretical dregs and melted away without a trace in the furnaces."
Bjorn glared straight at the young warrior who had been holding the tuna can.
"So, never let that sinister name pass your lips again."
Bjorn’s warning was cold and heavy.
"Just because the world has turned upside down and an Outer God has descended, don't mistake it for thinking all survivors left in Eden have abandoned the faith of the Pantheon. It’s obvious that fanatics who are obsessed with the gods are still roaming the continent with fire in their eyes. If those fanatics hear you talking about the God of the Wheel, our heads will be smashed by their hammers long before we get eaten by monsters."
Bjorn finished speaking, slightly opened the zipper at the entrance of the tent, and glanced at the night sky.
"And even if we concede a hundred times that this unknown being who gives us this grace is truly the God of the Wheel from the legends as you say... I still cannot fully trust that being."
"Th-that... what do you mean by that? Even though he’s helping us like this?" Torvi asked, puzzled.
"Think about it. A god of technology, supposedly created to save mortals, remained silent as a mouse while his followers were brutally slaughtered by the blades of the church... and now that the world has perished and Outer Gods are running wild, he suddenly appears out of nowhere, throwing us feed from the sky?"
Bjorn’s old axe blade flashed coldly in the faint light inside the tent.
"It means we can't be sure yet whether his intentions are good, or if it’s just a cunning ploy to use us as new chess pieces on the board of destruction. So, chew and swallow the food he gives us with gratitude, but let’s never voluntarily put that leash around our own necks. Do you understand?"