He Who Does Not Work Shall Not Eat

The Water God fell silent.

Their task this time was far more complicated than they had imagined.

"Then what do you suggest?" the Water God asked.

Evergreen's gaze pierced the ice and settled on the oasis he had brought to life with his divine power.

The river still flowed, and the flowers bloomed in full. Everything seemed alive.

Yet that flourishing life had given rise to the most vicious monsters.

"We were wrong."

Evergreen spoke softly.

"We should never have handed them water and food from the start."

"You can't set a lavish feast before people on the verge of starvation. They'll eat themselves to death, or turn into beasts that know nothing but eating."

He drew a deep breath, as though he had made a momentous decision.

"We have to make them understand one thing."

"What's that?"

"He who does not work shall not eat."

The Water God's eyes widened slightly.

"You mean..."

"That's right." Evergreen's voice hardened. "If they want water, they can dig their own wells. If they want food, they can grow it themselves. If they want to survive, they must rely on their own hands, not kneel and pray to a god."

"A god protects only those who strive to better themselves."

As the Water God listened, his expression shifted from shock to contemplation, then hardened.

"I understand."

He slammed a fist into his palm.

"You want to knock the laziness right out of them! Turn them from beggars on their knees into people who stand on their own feet!"

"It's no small undertaking, but it has to be done."

Evergreen's eyes grew sharp.

"And we have to show everyone else on this continent who's watching. They need to know we're not fools who grant every request."

"Our faith has a price of entry."

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