At last, Gawain asked the question that had concerned him most—and mattered most—during his journey to Tarlonnd.
It was about the chain connecting mortals and gods.
If, back on the Loren Continent, his understanding of that "chain" had consisted only of fragmented concepts and rough conjectures, then ever since arriving in Tarlonnd and seeing more and more of the Dragon Kingdom's "true face," his impression of it had become increasingly clear.
This was an "intra-planetary civilization" developed to its utmost limit, a stagnant nation that seemed to have stopped advancing entirely. From its social systems to its technological tree, Tarlonnd was bound by layer upon layer of shackles—and those shackles appeared to have been made entirely by its own people. Considering the operating laws of gods, Gawain had little difficulty imagining that the birth of these "civilizational locks" was inseparable from the Dragon God.
In the lower city, he had seen what a civilization locked down completely looked like—or at least part of its truth. And he believed that the Dragon God had deliberately shown it to him. It was precisely that deliberateness that made it so deeply unsettling.
Because from the details of the Dragon God's words and actions, he could sense that this deity did not wish to bind its own people—yet it had to do so, because a supreme rule, one even more inviolable than the gods themselves, constrained it.
Gawain and the scholars under his command had already attempted to analyze and demonstrate that rule, and they believed they had at least summarized part of it. Yet some details still needed to be filled in. Now, Gawain believed that the "god" before him was the final piece of that puzzle.
Hearing Gawain's question, the Dragon God fell silent for a moment. It seemed that even it