Chapter 374: God and Human
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 374: God and Human
*
Deca, Dominarch Hector’s adjutant, did not follow the Golden Ark. The Dominarch’s subordinates, scattered during the chase, were now stretched thin like a dried water stain. It fell to Deca, who always handled the cleanup, to gather them.
Of course, even as he did so, Deca was grumbling.
“Damn it, damn it all…! After everything we’ve done for the Fallen Dominion!”
A trading company shares its fate with its Primarch.
In the Fallen Dominion, cast under the massive shadow of the Golden Lord, a trading company needed more than just good technology to gain a competitive edge over other alchemists. No matter how brilliant the technology, there was a limit to the influence a single artisan could have on the world.
That was why they needed a Primarch. Only with a chosen alchemist, one who could create value out of nothing, could they become a power that spanned the entire Fallen Dominion.
“That damn Hector, does he think he can just die like that? Abandoning everyone who followed him, who believed in his ideals?”
Those who processed the stockpiled food. Those who transported the processed food. When he gathered all the company members scattered between the cornfields and the city, they numbered over five hundred. It might not have seemed like a large number, but in the Fallen Dominion, where individual bonds were weak, a group of over five hundred was rare. Considering that each of them possessed a vehicle the size of a house, the organized trading company was like a moving city.
In the past, this magnificent sight would have filled his chest with pride, but… thinking it would all soon disappear, Deca couldn't smile at all.
Deca’s eyes widened as he bit his finger. Blood seeped from under the crushed skin.
“No. We can’t just scatter like this. If we divide all of Hector’s assets, the company will lose its last remaining anchor! Damn it, but which Primarch should we go to….”
Words no one would heed fell with droplets of blood. Without a miracle, Deca’s lament would end as just that—a lament.
“—Your plea has been heard.”
And then, as if by a miracle.
Someone appeared before Deca.
It was a woman with her robe pulled down low. Aside from her slender jawline, no part of her face was visible. From the bandaged fist peeking out from her sleeve, she looked like a martial artist trained in Qi Arts.
He had no idea when she had approached him. Deca was about to snap in irritation, but… the feeling that she had appeared like fate in his most difficult hour made him shut his mouth and focus on her.
“Order is always necessary. A value that all believe in must be protected, for the sake of that belief itself. The Dominarch’s Drum Trading Company is the dinner table of the Fallen Dominion, and it must endure so that its people do not starve.”
She was right. Deca agreed vehemently. Why on earth did people only know how to cause trouble, but never prepare for the aftermath? If the Drum Trading Company were to disappear now, half of the Dholes in the Fallen Dominion might starve to death.
“You are part of the system that makes up the Fallen Dominion. Though this nation was once broken by a Divine, who can deny the merit of establishing your own order amidst the chaos? You have contributed.”
His heart felt refreshed, as if a persistent itch had been scratched, the black grime flicked away somewhere. Overcome with an indescribable emotion, Deca could only nod his head fiercely.
Deca had contributed. The Fallen Dominion had filled its belly thanks to the contributions of him and the Drum Trading Company.
Deca had worked hard. Working through the night was routine, and some days he even risked his life.
Deca had been loyal. He had always worked with sincerity, catching Hector’s eye and eventually rising to the position of his adjutant.
If so, shouldn't there be a proper reward? That was the way of the world.
“…Wh-who are you?”
“One who knows you, one who acknowledges you, and one who will reward you.”
Feruel threw back her hood, revealing her face. A glowing halo above her ashen hair subtly hinted at her identity.
“Ah! Finally!”
…Of course, what Deca truly wanted was probably not order and discipline. Grand concepts like the peace and prosperity of the Fallen Dominion were the results of his work under Hector, not his goals.
He was an ordinary, small-minded man. A common coward who leaned on greater authority, wielding it as his own and feeling a thrill of unity. Had he been under someone other than Hector, he could have easily caused great harm.
But now, having been called by the Saintess, Deca was a true patriot who had worked for the sake of the Fallen Dominion.
“This servant shall personally see that you receive the treatment you deserve.”
“Ah, ahhh…”
In this world, there is no heaven, no hell. Only the lonely graves that commemorate the dead remain.
But the gods deceive those who are dying.
They say that humans are not beasts, that they live for a better purpose. That the present is merely a foundation for the lofty ideals they will build upon. That even in death, if one can contribute to that cause, they will find joy in heaven.
That might not have been Deca’s true wish, but what did it matter? Human faith was just that shallow.
The Saintess of Steel, Feruel, gave a solemn command to her new devotee.
“Guide this servant to Claudia. That is your mission.”
“…Yes! I will obey!”
He was still a small-minded man, seeking to lean on a greater authority.
Deca knelt before Feruel and resolved to dedicate himself to her, feeling an unparalleled sense of elation.
*
The Thunderarch was momentarily speechless at the Regressor’s declaration that she would kill a god.
‘She’ll kill the Thunder God for us? Some random wanderer is going to fulfill Claudia’s age-old wish?’
If it were that easy, Claudia wouldn't have to hole up in their homes and tremble in fear every time storm clouds rolled in. The Regressor’s words were too fantastic to believe, but the problem was they were too sweet to dismiss as nonsense.
‘Besides, I can feel… a strange conviction from that boy. To be so confident, he must have some means, right? There’s no harm in accepting.’
One might think she was being too trusting for the ruler of a city, but well, for a Regressor, it was plausible.
The Thunderarch paused for a moment before speaking.
“…Whether that is the truth or a bluff, we will only know once we arrive in Claudia.”
Muttering to herself, the Thunderarch spun around and walked out of the cabin. A moment ago, her steps had seemed to echo with thunder, but now that she had suppressed her aura, her footfalls were silent.
So the power struggle is over, huh? Her emotions are directly reflected in her actions because of her power. Makes using mind-reading feel pointless.
“For now, I will escort you all to Claudia. As honored guests, of course.”
The Thunderarch invited us with a much more polite attitude.
Like all large cities, Claudia was padded with a fleshy layer of people who wished to live there. Before reaching the city proper, the Golden Ark passed through dozens of shanty towns. These people, not even Dholes, who couldn't survive without leaning on the city, had set up modest camps around the mountain to eke out a living.
But that place was not Claudia.
Claudia’s border was more clearly defined than any national frontier. Specifically, in the form of a two-meter-high electric barbed-wire fence.
Anything outside the fence was outside Claudia. The real Claudia began inside the fence.
Standing before the fence, the Thunderarch extended her hand. An formless energy reached out and pulled at the massive steel gate. With a creak, the two-meter-high steel gate swung open.
The Thunderarch walked ahead confidently and announced, “Welcome. This is the Village of Clouds, Claudia.”
My first impression of Claudia was blurry. Not for any special reason, but simply because a thick fog had settled over the area. However, once we pushed through the fog and advanced a certain distance, a jaw-dropping sight appeared.
A tall steel building was the first to greet us. Standing tall, the building, which looked to be at least thirty stories high, looked down on us. It narrowed as it rose, and upon reaching the roof, it spread out steel branches in every direction. It looked like a giant tree made of steel.
Beneath the steel branches that spread out in all directions, smaller but still sufficiently tall buildings were packed tightly together, as if seeking shelter from the rain under the shade of a tree.
Seeing it, the Thunderarch explained.
“That’s a Lightning Tower. A steel structure built to avoid the Thunder God’s wrath. If the weather ever darkens and lightning suddenly strikes, don’t panic, just hide in the shade of a Lightning Tower… Ah.”
The Thunderarch covered her mouth as she continued.
“For you all, getting struck by lightning probably wouldn’t be a problem. I spoke needlessly.”
“No, it is! It’s absolutely necessary, so please tell us everything.”
“Woof! Woof!”
The two Beast Kings barked desperately. Seeing my and Azzy’s subtly frightened attitudes, the Regressor asked with a puzzled look.
“You usually act like you’re not afraid of anything. What’s with you now?”
“What do you mean, what’s with me? Being afraid of lightning is an instinct. If you get hit suddenly, you could die.”
“Woof!”
Azzy barked as if in agreement.
Lightning, which instills fear with its sudden roar and flash, and sometimes even gifts death. To a beast, lightning is the most common and immediate natural disaster. I’ve gained some know-how recently and don’t fall for it easily, but the fear etched into my species is unavoidable.
A human could read it in advance and avoid it, or curry favor with the other party to ensure their safety. But lightning is as fickle as it is powerful. A direct hit means death, and even if you barely survive, excruciating pain awaits.
No wonder it was one of the first things to be worshipped as a deity.
The Thunderarch replied as if she understood.
“It’s always like that. Beastkin, in particular, tend to dislike Claudia even more. Because…”
The Regressor answered like an eager student.
“Because their fur gets wet in the fog, or else it stands on end from the lightning?”
“That’s right. How did you know? It’s difficult for outsiders to know that.”
The Thunderarch was surprised by the Regressor’s answer.
“Well, I just had a feeling.”
‘Because I heard the same thing in the last timeline.’
Showing off her knowledge from the last timeline again. I get that she wants to look smart, but is that really okay? In the end, aren't all these little actions the very things that will expose her as a Regressor?
Ah, whatever. It’s not like I can advise her, ‘Hey, if you mention your past life knowledge too much, you’ll arouse suspicion,’ can I? I’ll just let it be.
The number of humans living under the Lightning Tower must have been well over a thousand. And there wasn't just one or two such towers. With the distant Cloud Waterfall as a backdrop, I could see at least ten of them.
The majesty of the Fallen Dominion’s largest city was immense. The Thunderarch continued her explanation.
“The outskirts, where the fog is thinner, are mostly residential areas. The production areas are in the interior, closer to the waterfall. Seventy percent of the Dholes that roam the Fallen Dominion were born and raised in Claudia. There was a bit of a commotion recently because of the news that the Golden Lord was coming… but thankfully, we were able to save the city thanks to you all stopping him. Witherarch—no, Goldenarch.”
Peru, whose name was suddenly called, answered belatedly.
“…Yes.”
“Look closely. This place operates independently, but it is still a part of the Fallen Dominion. The fate of this city rests on the choice you will make.”
Peru’s already poor complexion darkened further. Feeling the pressure, she answered weakly.
“…That’s what I was going to ask of you, Thunderarch.”
“No. You have to do it.”
“…I lack the experience to take on such a heavy responsibility. It would be better if you, the brilliant Thunderarch, did it.”
“The Golden Lord was also a man who lacked experience for the heavy responsibility of being a nation’s king. But he was the king of the Fallen Dominion, no, a ruler close to a god. That was because of the Golden Lord’s power.”
With an attitude that made it unclear whether she was pressuring or encouraging her, the Thunderarch spoke sharply.
“I am, without a doubt, an exceptional human. Compared to me, you are lacking.”
“…So.”
“And yet, the one the Golden Lord acknowledged was you, the Witherarch. Now that you, who possess unrivaled destructive power in the Fallen Dominion, have obtained that bell, you can create or destroy the Fallen Dominion as you wish. No matter how exceptional I may be, I am still merely ‘human’. Taking responsibility for a single city and serving a god is the extent of my abilities.”
It was hard to tell if she was praising herself or putting herself down. What was certain was that the Thunderarch was clearly distinguishing their positions.
Elkid, the Thunderarch, who could wrap herself in the power of thunder and wield almost infinite power within Claudia’s limits. But it was, in the end, the power of a ‘human’. No matter how much she despised the Golden Lord, she separately acknowledged him for creating the massive system that was the Fallen Dominion.
…From my perspective, the Thunderarch and Peru, who both wielded god-like power, seemed much the same, but anyway.
“The Golden Lord was a terrible god. I will help you, so become a god worthy of my service.”
In other words, this was the greatest encouragement the Thunderarch could offer.
‘…A god? I… I don’t have what it takes.’
The person in question, however, felt like she was about to die from the pressure.
And so, we headed toward the deepest Lightning Tower.