Gods and the Creator God

There were many gods in the world, and thus many myths. According to the latest records, most gods had fallen or fallen asleep. The remaining scattered gods rarely revealed themselves in the world.

Only the priests who wielded their divine arts, also called Divine Beneficiaries, proved that the gods' gaze had not left this world. The most favored Called Ones occasionally received divine decrees, but such cases were exceedingly rare.

Thus, the clergy called the present day the "Silent Age."

Different civilizations across different lands had their own myths. Later research had confirmed that many gods possessed similar or different honorific names among different civilizations, even appearing in two distinct forms.

For example, the God of Change and Travelers was the human god Churimo before human altars, but the elf god Thoth before elf altars. There were even rumors that the Formless God of the Flash Tribe, the Supreme God's greatest enemy, was actually the God of Radiance and Order's alter ego in the Sand Kingdom.

People from different regions could draw different Star Charts beneath the same sky, but there was only one sun. Likewise, the creator god indicated by most myths was singular and certain. Scholars had determined that most peoples' names for the creator god were variations of the Old Yabberish "Lord of Origin," and all depicted Him as a naked male figure holding primordial water in one hand and pure grains of salt in the other.

Only a very small number of tribes believed the creator god had a female form, calling Her the World Mother. A few other myths depicted the creator god as a whole, continuously flowing forth and dividing into all things and gods in the world. As a whole, it was bound to possess both feminine and masculine aspects.

The Underground Cult the caravan had encountered by chance was called "Holy Mother's Return" by this thief. They worshiped the mother of the world and preached that She was sleeping. Once She returned, She would rain down wrath upon the earth, and only children who returned to their mother's embrace would be forgiven. The thief could not explain the details clearly either. Apparently, he had not paid much attention during their sermons.

Although Rorschach had not figured out why the World Mother would wake up in such a bad mood, preaching the end of the world was a common brainwashing tactic of evil cults. He could not be bothered to investigate further.

By dawn, the caravan had traveled into the faint light of morning. Apart from the occasional old cow, they had not seen another person. Mr. Arle finally ordered the caravan to stop and rest for a while.

"According to this thief's account, Limburg and the surrounding towns all have cult activity. Limburg may be their headquarters." Mr. Arle spread out a map and marked an area. "We'll have to start roughing it ahead of schedule. These towns... I suggest we do not stop in any of them."

Though they had only provoked one cult outpost, this world had magic and divine arts. Whether this so-called "Holy Mother" was genuine or not, no one could guarantee that the cult's other outposts had not received word.

"Have they got it wrong? They're running an evil cult right under the emperor's nose?" Singlev found it unbelievable. The caravan had only been a few days out from the Imperial Capital.

"What if the cult's goal is the Imperial Capital?" Rorschach said as he looked at the map.

"Ambitious!" Singlev actually gave a thumbs-up. This old fellow was a little out of touch.

Mr. Arle put away the map. "No matter what this Underground Cult is planning, we are only a caravan. Our task is to avoid trouble as much as possible and reach Valuana. I'll report what happened here to the merchant guild."

He looked at Hill, then at Rorschach. "Thank you, Mage, and Miss Hill, for last night. We'll have to trouble you again in the future, Sir Rorschach. Our caravan will travel along rivers whenever possible, but when we bypass towns, we'll need your Water Creation."

"It's nothing. Just doing my duty."

"You haven't rested since last night, have you, Sir? Please make do in the carriage."

Rorschach's horse was hitched to the cart, and Mr. Arle also told Hag to rest while taking over the driving himself. As Rorschach climbed aboard, a furry head poked out. It was Singlev. He pulled out a silver flask and handed it to Rorschach.

"Human liquor, no taste and no kick. Dwarf liquor, fragrant and strong! One sip and you'll sleep well."

"Thanks, Sing, but I can't drink strong liquor." Rorschach declined the Strong Liquor, but the relief carvings on the silver flask caught his attention. He took it and inspected it closely. The exquisite design depicted a sturdy dwarf and a human warrior raising their cups in a toast.

"That's our First King and your great hero."

Rorschach recalled the mythic epics his predecessor had studied. "Odov, the half-human, half-divine founder of the Old Empire, carried vast quantities of fine cloth, porcelain, paper, and Fruit Wine red as blood from the south of the continent across the entire continent to visit the Dwarf King of the north. The two kings forged a deep friendship.

"When Odov returned to the capital of the Old Empire, he came back laden with fine dwarf liquor and precious smelting techniques. With superior smelting and forging methods, the Old Empire defeated enemies in every direction with sharp swords and sturdy armor. Odov became a wise king who spread knowledge and brought victory—the Hero King."

Rorschach opened the flask, and a pleasing fragrance wafted out. The sense of smell cultivated by his former life as an Engineering Student kicked in. Besides alcohol, he detected a rich, complex ester aroma.

Northern mountain dwarves mostly brewed with tubers. This Distilled Liquor had a rich ester fragrance, but not much of the heads had been removed. The dwarves probably relied on their poison resistance and, greedy for the aroma and potency, had not removed much of it. Hmm, this was good liquor. Good because its fusel alcohol content was off the charts!

Rorschach continued with the ending of the Hero King epic. "The God of Wisdom and Civilization grew jealous of Odov's achievements in spreading knowledge, jealous of how the citizens of the Old Empire praised their wise king. He sent the White Raven beneath Him to carry away the Hero King's eyes, forcing him to spend the rest of his life in darkness. In the end, the Hero King's sons slaughtered one another for the throne, while the blinded old man could do nothing."

The God of Wisdom and Civilization was one of the gods confirmed to have fallen. A widespread theory held that His jealousy had drawn the wrath of the God of Order, protector of the Old Empire.

Thinking of Odov returning laden with dwarf liquor, Rorschach sighed, capped the flask, and returned it to the dwarf. "The God of Wisdom took the blame for your Dwarf King!"

"Huh?"

"I'm saying, didn't you forget someone?"

Another head poked out from outside the carriage, this one still wearing a hood.

"Oh, that thief!"

Poor Saji had already fainted. His clothes were soaked with sweat and blood, his face pale. The wound on his thigh was bound with strips torn from his own clothes. Curled up in the corner of carriage number three, he looked as if he had more breath going in than coming out.

"He's no use now. Why keep him? No need to dirty my hands. Toss him by the roadside, and he won't have a chance to tip anyone off." Sing intended to throw Saji away.

"He was only incited into doing dirty work for the innkeeper. He doesn't deserve to die." Hill objected.

"We're adventurers! We do work that could get us killed at any time, and we still have to care about others?"

Rorschach proposed a compromise. "We can leave him behind when we come across a farmhouse. Whether he gets saved or not will depend on whether his Holy Mother is willing to bless him."

"What if he runs into that mother cult and gives us away?"

Rorschach slapped Saji's face hard until he woke up, then fed him some lightly salted water. Once he seemed a little more alert, Rorschach asked, "Can you read and write?"

Saji shook his head.

The first thing the farmer did after getting up in the morning was go to the latrine to relieve himself. Feeling refreshed afterward, he picked up his breakfast basket and hoe, preparing to head out, when something at the fence gate nearly tripped him.

"Jenny! Jenny! Old woman! There's someone lying at the door!"

"What? Gods! Poor child! There's blood all over his mouth and leg!"

"His tongue was twisted, and his hands are tied. Jenny, he must be a runaway slave."

"A slave? Are there still masters keeping slaves these days? Old man, no matter what, we can't let this child die here."