The Curse of Challenging Divinity

The curse of punishment for challenging divinity? I couldn’t wrap my head around what that was supposed to mean.

“God Lecherot is the god of animals. That’s why the Lecherot temple is filled with dozens of statues. The idea is that each animal attains divinity and becomes one of Lecherot’s subordinate gods.”

Priest Hergo’s explanation somehow reminded me of Greek and Roman mythology.

“The animals that existed as Lecherot’s divine beasts challenge for godhood in their quest to become gods themselves. Failure brings the punishment of the very divinity they tried to claim. This is the result of that failure.”

Listening to the story, it felt like someone had taken Greek and Roman myths and stirred in the Eastern legend of the imugi. When an imugi successfully seizes the yeouiju and becomes a dragon, it ascends as a divine dragon that roams the clouds. But if it fails, only malice remains, and it becomes a grudge-bearing serpent trapped in the depths.

They’d adapted the imugi concept into divine beasts for the game. Just like an imugi that fails its ascension, these holy beasts received punishment and fell into corruption.

“Ah! Master! Please help over here! Sister Sezanne isn’t breathing!”

Yanne was supporting the collapsed Sezanne, her voice urgent. The moment I heard she wasn’t breathing, I sprinted over.

She was already an anorexic patient with almost no energy reserves. Adding severe mental shock on top of that had caused her to faint and her heart to stop.

I quickly cast both an Active Buff and a Healing Buff, then started CPR. Soon her heart began beating again and she drew in a shaky breath.

“Tsk, tsk. The flame of life is far too faint,” Priest Hergo murmured, clearly pitying her as he bestowed a blessing.

“What will you do? We only lost two soldiers, so we’ll wrap things up quickly and move out. How about you?”

Everyone had already been delayed far too long in Whitedust Village. The mercenaries were busy preparing the bodies so they could head straight through the forest. Normally I would have gone with them, but I couldn’t just abandon an unconscious anorexic patient.

In times like these, performing a good deed and stacking up invisible Good Deed stats seemed like the right move.

“There are still many people who need treatment. I’ll stay behind and help with the aftermath.”

“Sezanne! Cast the flame magic already!”

“Can’t you see the villagers dying over there? Hurry up and make a wall of fire!”

“Sezanne! What are you doing? Cast the spell!”

“Why can’t you do it like that other mage? Hurry up and use your magic!”

“I… I only just became a mage. I can’t cast spells that quickly.”

“I don’t have as much mana as Sir Michael. I can’t fire off magic continuously like that.”

“The spells just won’t come out.”

“I can’t do it.”

“I… I can’t…”

Even when people hounded her to cast faster, Sezanne had pushed back. She was only a sixteen-year-old girl who had just become a mage, after all.

But the words that came back to her were never encouragement or consideration. They were accusations and scoldings: Why can’t you cast magic like the other mages?

People saw her as a mage, not a girl. They wanted a powerful sorceress who could rain down flames, flip the earth, and slaughter monsters and magical beasts.

The girl had squeezed out mana until her heart ached trying to meet those expectations, but she ultimately fell short. The words that finally left their mouths shattered the confidence of a girl who had been proud to become a mage. Once she lost that confidence, her spells stopped working properly.

And when her failure to cast magic led to the death of family members at the hands of monsters, the response was no longer words but raw fury.

“If you had just cast your magic properly, my son wouldn’t have died!”

“I… I did my best! I cast until my heart ran completely dry of mana!”

She had tried to defend herself against the anger directed at her, but all that returned were cold curses. When her father and brother—who had been on her side—died during the pioneering expedition, she had no choice but to abandon her family.

“It… it wasn’t my fault… it wasn’t my fault… it wasn’t because of me… I tried… it wasn’t because of me… sob… sob…”

Yanne watched Sezanne, who was still unconscious and muttering that none of it was her responsibility, and wondered what she should do.

“Master. Should we wake her?”

“…No, leave her. We should get some food in her first.”

“Right. When she can’t get up like this, we can only give her water, yeah?”

“Yeah. Mix some sugar into warm water and feed it to her. If she eats something else and throws up again, it’ll be a pain.”

After telling Yanne to give her the sugar water, I headed to the campsite the Golden Dawn Mercenaries had been using. The band had originally numbered over twenty, but twelve had died and those who hadn’t joined the hunt had quit and left with other merchants. Now only Sezanne remained, so I had no choice but to clean up the camp myself.

I sorted out anything useful and secretly stashed it in my inventory, then returned leading one of the horses the mercenaries had left behind. Sezanne was already sitting up.

“The other mercenaries all quit and left after the incident. I organized the remaining luggage. You’re alone now—what do you plan to do?”

As I spoke, I picked up a piece of black-sugar toast Yanne had set ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out and took a bite. I noticed Sezanne’s eyes following my hand.

Even with anorexia, it looks like the desire to eat is still there.

“I… I didn’t expect things to turn out like this, so I’m not sure yet.”

“Of course. Who could have predicted this? Still, I’d appreciate it if you could decide by tomorrow morning. We’re planning to leave the village tomorrow before noon.”

“In that case…”

“Did you say you’re leaving the village tomorrow?”

Someone cut into Sezanne’s words. It was the holy warrior Yoheim.

“Then before you go, I’d like to ask for another healing spell.”

Having lost an arm, he still hadn’t adjusted to his balance and staggered as he sat down.

“It might sound strange, but I keep feeling a throbbing pain from where my arm used to be. I want to scratch it or massage it, but there’s nothing there, so it’s driving me crazy. Haha.”

He showed me the shoulder where his left arm had been torn away by the saber tiger’s strike. Thanks to the healing buff, the shoulder and side of his chest had healed cleanly.

“Listen to me saying that. Feeling pain from an arm that isn’t there. Haha.”

“It’s called phantom limb pain. I’ve heard it’s a real phenomenon.”

“Phantom limb pain? Well, it feels like an illusion from something that’s gone, so the name fits.”

I cast the Active Buff and Healing Buff on Yoheim. He rotated the stump where only the shoulder blade remained, then laughed again.

“Amazing. It feels fine now. I’m lucky I met you. Any other healer or mage probably would have called me crazy for complaining about pain in a missing arm. Haha.”

“That’s possible. So, Holy Warrior, what will you do now?”

“With my arm like this, I have no choice but to return to the order. I suppose Lord Malian took my arm to assign me some task. I need to go back quickly and ask what kind of work requires this.”

“I see.”

Even though he had become one-armed, Yoheim’s situation was better because he had a god to rely on. Sezanne, who had no such pillar, was the one in trouble.

“Since he took my arm, he should have taken this phantom pain too. Why leave this behind? Does Lord Malian dislike pain as well? Haha.”

The holy warrior Yoheim laughed as he prayed for the god he served to take away even the pain from his missing arm.

“You’re leaving tomorrow morning? Would it be all right to ask for another casting then?”

“Yes. I’ll apply the spell one more time.”

“Thank you. Perhaps this meeting was also part of Lord Malian’s grand design. See you tomorrow.”

Still unaccustomed to the missing arm, Yoheim staggered away, even mimicking his own waddling walk and laughing at how ridiculous he looked.

“How can that man laugh like that after losing an arm?” Sezanne asked quietly as she watched him go.

“It’s because he doesn’t think it’s his responsibility. He believes even losing his arm and becoming one-handed was Lord Malian’s arrangement. That’s why he can be so bright.”

“…He thinks losing his arm was God’s arrangement? Why would he think that? If not, then…”

“You can’t think about it logically. That’s how those who serve gods think. They believe everything is influenced by the divine.”

In a way, it was an all-purpose mindset that could also be called a mental illness.

“Whether something succeeds because of their own skill or fails because of their own shortcomings, they see it all as something the god prepared and arranged.”

“…”

“If they believe that even losing part of their body and gaining a disability was arranged by the god for some purpose, it eases their mind. It’s not their fault—it’s something the god did. It’s not their responsibility.”

It wasn’t a matter of whether the shoe fit the foot or the earring fit the ear. It was simply an all-encompassing phrase that could cover everything.

“In short, it’s all according to God’s will!”

Perhaps those were the words Sezanne needed most right now—the girl who had cried out that none of it was her fault while unconscious.

“Then… could my current situation also be God’s arrangement? I don’t even believe in any god, so whose arrangement would it be?”

“…”

I was neither a theologian nor a psychoanalyst, so I had no idea how to answer.

“Why would that god inflict this kind of pain on me? What kind of arrangement have they made?”

“Sister, I heard that to receive a god’s blessing, you have to offer a sacrifice equal to the blessing. They said you must dedicate something precious to the god. Maybe this pain is that kind of offering?”

Yanne suddenly spoke up. The words sounded familiar.

“Something precious?”

At the mention of offering something precious to a god, Sezanne thought about what was most precious to her. It was her already-dead family. The god had already taken what she treasured most.

“Then what about the blessing?”

“That… we’ll have to find out now, won’t we?”

“Which god are you talking about finding out from? Yanne, which god do you believe in?”

“I believe in God Sadalla.”

Yanne, that’s not exactly…

The moment Yanne said she believed in God Sadalla, I realized why the talk of blessings and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠offerings had sounded familiar. It was the nonsense I had carelessly spouted to the fairies in the wetlands when I wanted to get Fairy Dust from them.

“Maybe the reason Sister and I met like this was also arranged by God Sadalla.”

“…God’s arrangement…”

Sezanne seemed to find some comfort in Yanne’s words that even this meeting was part of a divine plan. If everything she had suffered—becoming a mercenary with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Palchion, reaching Whitedust Forest Village—had been arranged by a god, then perhaps the god called Sadalla had taken her precious things in order to lead her to these two people, Yanne and Jinu.

If so, she was curious what blessing she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would receive in exchange for those precious offerings. She wondered how great a blessing and arrangement it must be to have caused her such immense pain.

“Ah…!”

Sezanne realized that if everything up until now had been God’s arrangement, she no longer needed to torment herself with guilt. The deaths of her family and the ruin of her house weren’t her responsibility—they had been the god’s will.

Only then did she understand how the holy warrior Yoheim could laugh despite losing his arm. The moment she realized all the pain she had carried wasn’t her fault, the tears burst forth.

“Ugh… sob… sob…”

These were not the frustrated, resentful tears she had shed before. These were refreshing tears that came from throwing off the yoke of responsibility.

A laugh escaped her.

If a god arranged all this, what can I do about it? It’s not my problem anymore!

With the weight that had pressed on her shoulders gone, her body no longer felt sick. Instead, she felt hungry.

“Could I have a piece of that sweet thing?”

“H-here you go.”

The sight of Sezanne crying one moment, laughing the next, then tearfully asking for black-sugar toast didn’t look normal. Her gaunt, emaciated face from anorexia probably made her seem even more like a madwoman.

Has she completely lost her mind?

Sezanne paid no attention to my gaze and focused only on the sweet taste in her mouth. Once the sense of responsibility and burden disappeared, her appetite began to return. She wanted to keep eating the black-sugar toast that melted with saliva and crunched between her teeth.

“This is really delicious. Can I have more?”

She tried to grab two pieces at once, but I had to hurriedly stop her.

“Master. There’s more black-sugar toast.”

“That’s not the issue. If she eats recklessly like this, it’ll cause problems in her stomach. Someone who hasn’t eaten properly for a long time could die if they suddenly eat too much.”

Seeing my serious expression, Yanne quickly put the black-sugar toast away.

“Then what should she eat?”

“Let’s start with something with broth and go slowly. First, we should check if what she just ate stays down.”

Since eating had previously made her vomit, Sezanne nodded in agreement. While we waited to see if the toast would come back up, I obtained some cow’s milk and brought it to a boil. Then I dropped the black-sugar toast into the hot milk. The sugar butter coating on the toast melted into the milk.

“Eat it slowly together with the toast pieces melting in the hot milk. Let’s settle your stomach with this until tomorrow morning.”

Sezanne and Yanne seemed to like the sight of the black-sugar toast melting and softening in the hot milk. They whispered to each other as they ate.

“Om Mani Padme Hum! Thank you, God Sadalla, I gratefully receive this meal.”

Yanne, that’s… a bit much.

Sezanne moved her spoon quickly, as if her appetite had fully returned. Worried that eating until full might cause problems, I only let her eat half a bowl. An hour later, once her stomach had adjusted, she finished the remaining half. Fortunately, there were no issues.

“Whew. That was good. I don’t even remember the last time I ate until I felt full. You said you’re heading to Booktoria, right? That was my original destination too, so let’s go together.”