945
Humans really are fragile... The thought came to Klein unbidden.
The sights across the Northern Continent filled him with sympathy, but also with a contempt he could hardly suppress. Mortals were exceedingly fragile creatures. The slightest force could kill them; the slightest influence on the real world could displace countless people and take their lives. They were so insignificant, so feeble. Even Utopia's most defective marionettes were stronger than humans.
The instant this thought surfaced, Klein abruptly felt that something seemed wrong with his attitude. Of course he could express such sentiments, but he should not define humanity from on high as a Beyonder, from a standing approaching that of a true god.
I am human myself. I shouldn't think this way. I can lament, but I mustn't despise them.
I should think about how I can help them.
After all, the gods' war has nothing to do with them, yet it has destroyed their families and homes...
Lamenting humanity's fragility was already unavoidable. The tragedies had already happened and seemed difficult to undo. On the other hand, whenever Klein saw people grieving the deaths of relatives and close friends, he always felt terrible. Such things kept happening before his eyes, and even a Miracle Invoker could not grant everyone the miracle of resurrection.
Miracles could do little. Perhaps he could restore the ruined cities and heal their physical impairments and illnesses, but he could not erase the pain in their hearts. Simply and brutally wiping away others' memories would only cause greater harm.
Still, it was not entirely hopeless.
At this thought, Klein's fingers twitched. He wanted to turn everyone who had died into his marionettes.
Once they became marionettes, they could remain beside their families and friends forever. Of course, that probably still would not be enough.