"We worship our lord not because He is powerful, but because we revere Him from the bottom of our hearts. Unlike an Evil God like you, You will never earn our respect!" Old Man rejected Clown's proposal for a contest.
If he had not found the other party too strange, he would have called it blasphemy outright.
Of course, the most crucial thing was that he knew deep down that his god would not descend, nor would He grant him any miracle.
"Hmph, you ignorant, foolish fools. Why would the gods care about your worship? Nor will they listen to your prayers. After all these years of offerings, have They ever given you even the slightest response? For a god to occasionally open His eyes and glance at the buzzing of little bugs like you—that is already your greatest honor." Clown mocked them without restraint.
Old Man fell silent.
The people behind him also fell silent.
The other party was right. In the past, when no one had gods, science triumphed over superstition, and everyone merely sought emotional comfort. But now, other people's gods had appeared one after another, such as the Colossus God, who had led His believers into another world.
The only reason they had endured until now was years of habit and a faint, subtle hope.
"So convert to my Savior and Heavenly Father. Only He can bring you strength, courage, inspiration, and wisdom." As Clown spoke, he pulled Octopus Head Statue after Octopus Head Statue from his clothes, as though they would never run out.
"Impossible. Our true lord will descend into this world sooner or later. Whoever endures the longest will enter heaven." Old Man gritted his teeth.
Clown did not actually refute him.
Because even he could not be certain of that. Who could