Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Festival of Receiving Flesh
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"Raise your head."
Following that pleasant, clear voice, I lifted my head.
The moment my eyes met the goddess seated on the jade throne, I forgot to breathe for an instant.
The goddess on the throne atop twelve steps appeared larger than the massive statue standing in the temple's passageway.
'No, it's an illusion.'
My perception was warped; my body couldn't process the information properly.
I closed my eyes briefly and focused. The energy within me stirred in response.
'Getting used to it.'
"Hoo."
When I opened my eyes, the goddess had shrunk from a giant back to normal human size.
The Goddess of War and Victory lounged obliquely against the throne, chin propped in her hand, a smile of intrigue on her lips.
"You can resist divine presence."
At the Goddess of War and Victory's words, the gazes of everyone gathered here turned to me.
A different kind of pressure washed over me than before.
'The order's all-stars are all here.'
The holy knights of the Order of the Goddess of War and Victory had consistently been the dungeon city's strongest raiding force for generations, unchanging since ancient times.
And now, in this space, the leaders of the current generation's order were assembled.
'Child of Shattering, the Bizarre, the Immovable, Unyielding Spear, Quartermaster, and...'
Even Tigran of the Heavenly Army, who had been lingering here, arms crossed with a bored expression.
All these people lined up on either side, as if to exalt their goddess's majesty, were epithet holders.
It was a list of words that might scribble in the notebook of a second-year middle schooler stuck in the corner of a classroom, but unlike how ridiculous it might seem, the weight of an epithet in the dungeon city was no light matter.
Only about five percent of all crawlers reached the lower levels, and epithets were granted solely to those who achieved something significant there.
Among the active crawlers of this generation, there were fewer than two hundred with epithets, and about a tenth of them seemed to be gathered here.
'Felt a sting up top.'
"I heard you summoned me."
I ignored the eyes filled with various emotions as best I could and spoke to the goddess.
"I did."
The goddess's gaze shifted toward Tigran.
"I was curious who had given my champion a defeat after so long."
At her words, not only I but the gazes of the order's executives(?) in the temple all turned to Tigran in unison.
About half of those gazes held shock.
"...It was simply an eating contest. Please dispel any such misunderstandings; they're burdensome."
As those gazes seemed poised to shift from Tigran back to the cause—me—I quickly corrected the facts.
As expected of people from an order with war in its symbol, they immediately showed signs of wanting to spar.
"A defeat is a defeat. No excuses. It was truly a rare loss."
Gahaha!
Tigran's hearty laughter echoed through the temple.
As his laughter faded, the goddess slowly rose from the throne and approached me.
Her silhouette boasted feminine curves even a loose tunic couldn't hide, yet her movements and stride carried a masculine boldness.
She descended the twelve steps silently and walked right up to me.
Locking eyes with me as she looked down, she said nothing for a long while.
"Indeed."
Breaking the silence, the goddess let out a small, amused laugh.
Then she slowly circled me as she spoke.
"Strife has become part of your life."
Her footsteps stopped right in front of me with a click.
"But it's not the makings of a hero."
The goddess met my eyes again.
"You put calculation before heart and are overly attuned to gain. One with such a nature is a petty soul who can't harbor grand ambitions in a great breast—unsuited for great endeavors."
It was a rude assessment depending on how you heard it, but it didn't faze me.
Moreover, my chest had been fully occupied since adulthood; no room for strange notions.
Did she read that thought of mine?
The goddess chuckled softly and said,
"If they heard that judgment, a mortal would bow in shame, and my children here would deem it the ultimate insult and flush with rage."
Her golden eyebrows arched gently.
"Yet you feel neither, making you a most intriguing specimen. It was mere diversion, but... you please me more than expected."
Suddenly, a resonant thought echoed in my mind.
"Child. How about serving me?"
-Nonsense!
Since entering this room, the goddess who had maintained silence roared in my head.
-This filthy thing grows a loose tongue and dares proposition my child with such drivel...!
"...Are you telling me to convert?"
I endured Her Ladyship's voice raging so fiercely it gave me a headache and spoke.
Faith is no light thing; in that other world, people laid down their lives for it.
How much more in a world where gods like the one before me performed miracles with their authority and communed with believers.
For a priest, faith was an absolute worldview.
Demanding conversion, apostasy, from such a priest—what did it mean?
Even for a lapsed monk of shallow faith, it was an impropriety not uttered lightly.
Proof: the order's people stared at their goddess in shocked expressions.
"Quite right."
-……
At her calm reply, indifferent to the surrounding mood, Her Ladyship fell silent.
But silence didn't mean her anger had subsided.
Sometimes, humans surpass anger's threshold and lose even words.
Gods seemed no different.
The intent from Her Ladyship in my mind felt, if visualized, dyed pitch black.
"Do you know that what you just said is an insult no mere human—or even you as a god—can easily overlook?"
"Of course. But I have a great greed for talent."
At the goddess's words, I let out a small sigh.
This goddess prattling without pause, Her Ladyship turning pitch black in real time, the surrounding atmosphere—everything.
I felt the need to wrap this up before the situation worsened further.
"...I..."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"You went too far."
After Arjen left and the others departed amid the chaos, the goddess lounged against the throne in the now-empty room. She turned at the voice laced with reproach to see its owner.
It was the stern-faced archbishop and Tigran yawning indifferently behind him.
"Are you scolding your goddess?"
"If my goddess strays from the path, isn't it the duty of her subordinate to correct her with remonstrance?"
"Is your omnipotent lord goddess making a wrong judgment? Heh, behold this heretic."
"……"
"...I'm joking. Don't look at me like that."
At the archbishop's wordlessly terrifying glare, the Goddess of War and Victory flinched and shrank back.
"Haa... Why did you do that? Rusted Silver... Priest Arjen is certainly renowned as an exceptional priest, but I don't think she's worth your lordship forcing the issue."
Arjen was indeed an outstanding priest.
A priest with an epithet meant her talent as a crawler ranked among the top ten in the dungeon city.
Reaching that realm at the tender age of twenty-one made her a true prodigy.
But this was the Order of the Goddess of War and Victory.
The gathering place of the world's finest talents.
There were priests who could match Arjen, and even if not quite, plenty more worthy of the term "prodigy."
Unlike the frail priests of other orders, this order's priests didn't shy from throwing themselves into the dungeon's perils.
Moreover, they received support from the Order of the Goddess of Hearth and Ashes when supporter manpower ran short.
Fortunately, the Order of the Goddess of Mist and Dew was so minor they'd never heard of it; otherwise, it would've sparked a diplomatic incident.
They'd sent the 'participation rights,' but considering the effort to smooth over the earlier situation and the 'sincerity' invested, the archbishop's head began to ache.
"She's a child I've cherished for so long. With my descent to the mortal realm, it was a convenient excuse to tease her a bit. Hm... Now that I think of it, the repercussions are worrisome. When I return to the heavens, who knows how she'll retaliate..."
"Huh? Wasn't it because I beat you that you wanted to meet?"
"Your goddess jested, do you truly take her for a simpleton? Impressive as it is that such a tiny frame bested you in eating, it's no great feat. Do you think that's reason enough for me to summon a child personally?"
"……"
"...Heh."
At the silent archbishop and Tigran, the goddess's fair brow furrowed.
"Enough. No matter what I do, you criticize with those innocent eyes. I can't even jest anymore."
The goddess slumped peevishly against the throne, her cheeks puffing slightly.
"So. Are those shit-sack and spell-slinger properly prepared?"
"They say it'll be done within two days."
"A bit late. I'm fine, but those two must be nearing their limits by now."
"Yes. By the time preparations finish, I expect both gods will have returned to the heavens."
"I see."
The God of Anvil and Hammer, and the God of Paths and Horizons would surely fulfill their request in time.
"Tigran."
"Yes."
"How was it?"
The goddess's question omitted much, but Tigran understood without further explanation.
"The 'exiles' were acting a bit strangely..."
Other than that, there were no particular issues.
"I see."
The goddess fell silent at Tigran's reply.
For several years now, the Goddess of War and Victory had felt a certain instinct.
An instinct stimulating her very essence.
The scent of war drifting in from the peace that had lasted a millennium since the gods vanished from the mortal realm.
She felt like a canary in a mine, yet she couldn't dismiss the instinct.
That was why she'd prepared so much for this Festival of Receiving Flesh.
Even asking favors of two gods she wasn't close to.
Even if it was a faint premonition, the cost to the world if it came true was too great.
If it was just her imagination, fine.
But if not...
Though she embodied the dire essence of war, paradoxically, she desired peace.
The goddess's eyes turned westward.
Toward the place where her long-buried flesh lay.
"If one desires peace, one must prepare for war."