Empire (1)
"Therefore, you all—become free. Encounter many gods and believe in the one you desire. You have the right to become free. You have the freedom to believe in the god of your choosing. You shall become free."
The final task to become a hikikomori goddess: reduce the number of my followers! As part of that, after delivering this revelation on the freedom of faith, I dumped almost all the duties of the Life Goddess onto Asherat.
I'd thrown in some lines in the revelation that should make the believers peel off, so the number of people worshiping me ought to drop, right...? Yeah, it should.
After that, I started examining the headless ogre corpse. I'd had Talos fetch it for me, after all. Time to poke around. Shame about the missing head, but oh well. Can't be helped.
The ogre's flesh itself was incomparably tougher than an orc's. Its bones were as sturdy as steel. The hide was like wyvern membrane—thick and so tough that a blade forged from iron wouldn't penetrate properly. The tendons were incredibly resilient too. If you made bowstrings from those, you'd need freakish strength just to draw it back.
The muscles were relatively weaker than the tendons or skin, but only relatively speaking. The source of the ogre's astonishing strength had to be those muscles, elastic like rubber bands, stretching and contracting with ease.
The internal organs felt like scaled-up versions of an orc's. Lungs that ballooned like inflated sacks, digestive systems filling every inch of the torso. To sustain a body like this, you'd need organs on that scale, I suppose.
Of course, with all those guts packed in, one unlucky blade slip would've wrecked them—but the ribs and muscles acted like armor, protecting everything. No ordinary blade could've pierced through.
Oh, and there was one thing that bugged me: the chlorophyll in its skin. Goblins could sustain minimal life functions through photosynthesis alone thanks to theirs, but ogres? No dice. They could photosynthesize a little, sure, but the energy output was so pathetic it wouldn't even guarantee survival.
Did they sacrifice survivability for raw power? Or was it to force them into constantly hunting for food with that massive frame? Who knows.... Either way, it was one hell of a vicious body.
Everything else... well, the heart stood out—far larger than a human's. A pump that size was necessary to circulate blood through every corner of such a colossal frame.
And most importantly, the magic stone. A fist-sized one attached to the heart, on par with a wyvern's or lesser dragon's. Inside, you could plainly see fragments of darkness gathering.
Impressive.... Never expected this much darkness concentrated in one stone.
I drew the Hero's Sword and pressed it to the magic stone. The darkness fragments within were sucked straight into the diamond embedded in the blade. The shadow inside visibly swelled—so much from a single stone. First time I'd seen that kind of haul.
For a split second, a thought flashed: If I set up goblin farms on the surface and mass-produce ogres, gathering darkness fragments would be a breeze.... But nah, I could guess the chaos that'd unleash. Better not entertain stupid ideas. Yeah.
Still, from this ogre—and the goblins—I had a rough idea of their purpose. Monsters that absorb mana and evolve endlessly. Ones that grow stronger as their hordes expand, amassing more mana. Ones brimming with infinite potential through mana.
That idiot.... Wasn't he trying to raise them through evolution until he got a monster perfect for possessing? Even this orc-evolved ogre rivaled a drake. How strong would further evolutions get? If the land were overrun with goblins, what kind of monster might be born?
No clue, but something dragon-tier wouldn't be out of the question. Luckily, we smash every goblin on sight, so no such monster's arising anytime soon.
Time flows swiftly through the world.
The Knight King, Lucius Altrius Caesar, passed away at the age of 117. Cause of death: old age. In an era where the average lifespan hovered around 60, 117 was extraordinarily long.
He'd handed the throne to his eldest son after the greenskin war ended and postwar matters were settled. For the next decade or so, he traveled the nation he'd built, accompanied only by a small retinue. Whether he just wanted to see his kingdom's state firsthand, he returned to Romania's capital, Sirius, and lived quietly, uninvolved in governance.
He reemerged publicly only when his son—the reigning king—succumbed to illness. Lucius was 82 then; his son, 58.
Thus, Lucius's grandson ascended, ruled until his own death, and was succeeded by Lucius's great-grandson. Shortly thereafter, Knight King Lucius Altrius Caesar passed at 117.
Descendant of ancient Arcadia, hero who rose to defend his homeland, knight blessed by the gods, warrior against humanity's monstrous foes, king of kings who forged a vast realm—he departed for the world beyond death.
To honor such greatness, his great-grandson wished the Knight King's name to endure forever: King of kings. Greatest monarch since the gods' era ended.
Thus, invoking the word for past glorious realms, he proclaimed not the Kingdom of Romania, but the Romanian Empire, posthumously elevating the great Knight King to emperor.
From the emperor's name, he coined a new term: from Lucius Altrius Caesar, "Kaiser" became the title for emperor.
So the legend-forging hero departs, and the empire born of legend endures. The world flows on, pregnant with countless changes.
Hmm. Life without work—is it this beautiful?
Munching on simple snacks, lounging about. The ultimate existence. With most tasks automated, it's pure bliss!
"Sometimes I wish you'd handle things yourself."
"No way! I've worked plenty already! Time to play! Play my heart out!!!"
"Ugh.... Total regression to infancy.... If word got out that the Life Goddess—hailed as the greatest among countless gods—is like this.... Wonder how the believers would react...."
"I've never told them to worship me! I just created life starting from slimes and tended this world like a gardener with their garden!! There's freedom of faith in this world! Honestly, whether they believe in me or not makes zero difference to me! O beings of intellect! Be free!"
"That's the most impressive part. This utterly irresponsible goddess.... Handing freedom of faith to all humanity just 'cause it's convenient for you.... Is it brilliance or just thoughtlessness...."
Asherat, handling Life Goddess duties in my stead, could only sigh. Whatever. As long as it runs smoothly without issues, who cares? I'm comfy lounging, she gets a hefty cut of incoming faith, and humans have gods who reliably answer prayers. Win-win-win, right?
"No trouble at the Pantheon?"
"You know there isn't, yet you ask anyway. Nothing problematic at all."
"I have a rough idea, but what if something crops up where I wouldn't notice?"
"Is there even a place your gaze doesn't reach?"
"Hmm.... Deep underground?"
My sight doesn't pierce those depths, after all.
Asherat just shook her head at my words.
"The Pantheon gods are mostly compliant. With so many losing divinity or vanishing, the survivors feel chosen to remain gods. And now that surface humans don't cling to single faiths, plenty of gods are getting worship and content."
Hmm. Guaranteeing freedom of faith was the right call. Yep.
"No gods trying to bail from the Pantheon?"
"Sirius and the Twelve Gods guard it tight. Even if they wanted out, they couldn't."
"Good.... Still, it'd be nice to have ways to quell any godly grumbling.... Hmm. Let them descend as humans for some fun...?"
"Pardon? Fun...?"
"Yeah, that kinda thing."
Like dragons blending into the world in human form, it'd be fine for gods too—as long as they don't cause chaos.
"...Oops! I almost started thinking about work!"
"Tch."
"You clicked your tongue! Loud enough for everyone to hear!!!"
As we bickered with Asherat, killing time...
"I'm home."
The temple's back door opened, and a petite girl entered. She looked just like me, but with black hair and no horns—the Hades I'd made to manage the underworld.
"Welcome back. You're early today."
"Dumped the work on the other death gods."
Hades, built as a high-intelligence automated death evaluator, now inhabited one of my incarnations as a body. Like Asherat, she had an independent form.
She'd insisted she didn't need one, but with Asherat's precedent... a body's not a bad thing.
After getting her body, to help her adjust to all the novel sensations, I let her use my temple as home. Plenty of empty rooms anyway. Asherat seemed quietly pleased to live with her sister-like companion.
"Hades! Welcome back!!"
"Yeah. Asherat. I'm home."
See? That warm reception. Watching those two—identical save for hair color—get along so well stirs some indescribable feeling....
Eh, good's good.
As I watched Asherat and Hades, something tugged at my senses. Specifically, the Deep Forest Sage I'd left on the surface. Something was approaching the forest where the sage resided.
Someone had entered the forest—a place impassable without clear intent to meet the sage.
