A God in My Own Image
Heavenly God? I looked up at the being claiming to be the Heavenly God. Composed of a massive, radiant form, it even had wings sprouting from its back, just like mine right now. The very aura it exuded was so sacred and divine that I couldn't deny it—but there was irrefutable proof anyway. It looks just like me! Long silver hair, milky-white skin, a delicate frame. An appearance that laid bare perfect, unparalleled beauty. The only real difference was the eye color? Sure, it looked a bit more mature than me, but it was so identical there was no mistaking it. This is what I'd look like if I had an older brother! Given my true identity as Seres, this was all the confirmation I needed that it really was the Heavenly God.
"Seres?"
"Uh…."
We in my party were stunned by how exactly alike we looked.
"He looks just like Lord Seres…."
"What the hell is that?"
"Didn't it just say it's the Heavenly God?!"
Even the people who'd been weeping over their dead and wounded until moments ago were shocked.
[Hm?]
Seeing everyone's reactions, the Heavenly God lit up with interest in its eyes.
[Ah, yeah, I guess this would be confusing.]
It nodded as if only just realizing why people were freaking out over how much it resembled me….
[Don't be alarmed. I've descended by borrowing the form of the saint who called me.]
It completely flipped the sequence of events.
"Pardon?"
I yelped in surprise, knowing full well that that was the Heavenly God's true form, but—
—Hold on. This way, there won't be any weird rumors later.
At that moment, the Heavenly God's voice echoed directly in my head.
—If I don't say it like this, people will start digging into why we look identical, and that'd be bad for you.
True enough, but a god going out of its way to lie about something like that? I stared at it in bewilderment, my face blank, but it kept spinning the tale.
[Fear not, mortals. I've come to save you in response to the saint's call.]
"G-God… are you truly…?!"
The grand priest from the capital's temple—whatever his name was—gasped and asked.
[Indeed! He lamented his lack of power and prayed to me, so be grateful for his mercy!]
...That's not it at all.
The Heavenly God kept lying straight to the grand priest and the crowd. I was utterly baffled.
"Um…!"
I raised my voice, wondering what misunderstanding was going on, but then it spoke in my head again.
—How about we say you were messing around trying to fix the buildings and accidentally called me? This is just a feel-good cover story!
It made sense, but was a god really allowed to talk like that?
—And don't talk out loud. If you don't want them catching on that we're chatting, use divine power to respond.
—Like this?
It told me to use divine power for telepathy, and surprisingly, I could do it right away, even though it was my first try.
—So, what brings you here, exactly?
I asked politely about the purpose of the visit first. It definitely wasn't because I called it, so there had to be another reason….
—Actually, you did call me.
—Pardon?
—You were trying to access the source, right? Whose source is Seres's?
Ah!
So the problem was visualizing accessing the source to fix the buildings?!
—Normally, for a human to summon me, they'd have to pull off some world-shaking act of hubris. But if they already wield divine power—proof of godhood in itself—and it's derived from me, that's a different story. A regular human's call is like nearby animals howling unknowingly. Yours? It's like using the company intranet for a direct line.
I got the gist, but why was a god's analogy so modern? Company intranet? Did gods know about modern stuff too?!
I pressed further in shock.
—So you didn't come out here to clean up this mess?
—Nope.
—Then why show up when you knew it was a mistaken call?
—...I figured I'd meet you in person someday anyway.
—Why me?
—I'll explain later. For now, let's handle this.
The Heavenly God changed the subject and glanced around.
—I didn't come to fix this chaos, but now that I've seen it, I can't just leave it. Perks of being the top dog in the forces of good, I guess.
—Makes sense for the Heavenly God. Hurry up and restore everything, then.
I imagined it fixing all the earthquake damage in an instant and waited eagerly. But—
—Can't do it alone.
—...You're a god.
—So are you. And right now, I'm basically your summoned familiar. Using too much power in this state violates the gods' laws of causality. If it'd been a heroic sacrifice to slay some Maou-like boss in a final battle, I could've restored things as a reward. But this? Natural disaster. The other gods would complain.
—So what can you do?
—Reviving the dead is simple enough in this form.
—I can do that!
—I know.
The Heavenly God said coolly, pointing at me with a finger.
—That's why you do it. You can pull it off.
—...I just failed.
—Because you didn't know the right method. I'll teach you now. How to wield divine power.
It was going to teach me how to handle divine power? As I puzzled over it, the Heavenly God continued.
—First, let me correct a misconception. Divine power isn't just some holy energy gods use. It's superior to regular forces like magic, holy power, or mana.
—I know that much….
—No, you don't. You don't grasp what "superior compatibility" really means.
Its next words made my eyes widen.
—Just like you could heal undead with divine power, proper use lets you kill humans instead.
—You can do that?
—If not, how would gods smite people with it? Most tales of divine power involve gods offing arrogant humans. Never read Greek myths?
You've read Greek myths? As a Heavenly God?
—Divine power can do almost anything—the key is perception. You only healed because of this world's ingrained biases and your affinity leaning toward my holy attribute.
—So if I just shift my perception, I could heal inanimate objects too, but I failed earlier. And the result of that failure is you.
I eyed it skeptically, but it replied:
—That's because you overthought it. You tensed up treating something trivial like a big deal, so you flubbed it.
—What?
—Listen up. This disaster is pitiful for the victims, sure, but it's not a big deal. To divine beings like us, it's trivial.
—How can you say that?! Do you even realize how many lives are hanging by a thread right now?!
I protested, but it snapped back.
—Stubborn! The more trivial you think of it, the easier it gets!
—?!
—If it doesn't click, think of the people around you normally. They're all extraordinary, right?
True. Viol was the emperor, Arios the heir to a ducal house and a Sword Master. Hames was a grand priest, Sibylius had become the Maou. My mother Ares, and even Red—they were all leagues above ordinary folk.
—What if those guys died and you had to revive them?
—It'd be tough.
—Why?
—They're all powerhouses; it'd drain a ton of energy. Just a hunch, but I know it'd be that way.
Meanwhile, the people I'd revived in the capital? Piece of cake, like a prank. Because they were just regular folks.
"…Ah!"
Sudden realization hit me, and I cried out in epiphany. That's why reviving them was so easy! And it applied to buildings too—not the imperial palace or anything grand, just ordinary structures!
Enlightened, I reached out to a nearby ruined building. It restored to pristine condition in a flash. Unthinkable at my previous level, but now? Trivial.
Soon, I unleashed divine power from my entire body, whispering the revelation in my mind. My ability expanded massively—reviving and repairing everything within range below a certain threshold, numbers be damned.
—I'll widen the range for you. That's fine.
With the Heavenly God's help, the scope covered the entire capital. In one go, I restored everything and revived the dead.
"Hoo~!!"
Even for me, that took it out of me—I felt utterly drained, my body aching all over for the first time since getting healthy.
[See that? This is my power.]
It was my doing, but the Heavenly God struck a pose anyway. Before the awestruck crowd, mesmerized by the unbelievable miracle, it declared:
[But alas, summoning me and wielding such power means the saint can no longer perform miracles like reviving the dead as before.]
What the—?
"No, I…."
Even exhausted as I was, saving lives was still no big deal, so I started to argue—but
—Quiet. You wanna keep reviving people everywhere from now on?
Last time I let it slide, but it's not great for you, and while not outright illegal by our rules, it's not problem-free either.
The Heavenly God silenced me, then raised its voice once more.