At this moment, even Yato rarely found himself feeling lost about the future.
Among the Eight Million Gods, he was undoubtedly one of the younger generation, without much seniority to speak of. After all, he had only been born during the Heian Period. As a god of war born from "Father's" wish... precisely because of that, he lacked seniority and fame.
He had left behind no famous legends, nor could he obtain a Celestial Registry or formal recognition from Takama-ga-hara. He existed only as an unknown god at the very bottom of the Eight Million Gods, reduced to wandering alone between This Shore and the Far Shore, bowing for Five Yen Coin Offerings and accepting every sort of commission, from slaying demons and exorcising evil to running errands and fixing water pipes.
Yet no matter how impoverished he was now, he had still just barely caught the last train and witnessed the fading light of the Age of Gods—
After all, the Heian Period had been over a thousand years ago. The world back then had been nowhere near as scientifically advanced as it was today, and the gods' circumstances had certainly not been as terrible as they were now, with faith declining and divine grace fading away...
So when Yato thought back on the changes of recent years, he could not help sighing inwardly. How had the world become such a mess in the blink of an eye? He was utterly lost as well—
The decline of the gods' "faith" was an objective fact. Gods born from faith truly were worsening day by day.
Likewise, the growing "awe" toward demons was an objective fact. Born from the dark side of human hearts and negative emotions, they had lost the suppression of divine power. Meanwhile, as the world's population kept