Episode 189
“Elonia!”
Philemon gasped, realizing who they were. She quickly covered Elonia’s mouth and bowed her head.
“I apologize. My daughter knows nothing about you. Please forgive her ignorance—”
“[There’s no need, poor soul.]”
“[Our divine power isn’t affected by human belief.]”
Unlike Sirius or Madicte, the two gods were surprisingly benevolent towards humans. The God of Death spoke, his voice filled with regret,
“[You asked why we’re only appearing now.]”
The God of Punishment continued,
“[It’s because there’s a problem in the divine realm.]”
A problem in the divine realm? The world that was supposed to be perfect?
The God of Death, as if understanding Elonia’s confusion, explained, his voice heavy,
“[There are many humans seeking the gods, and not enough personnel to manage the divine realm. Countless prayers are pouring into the divine realm every second. So we entrusted the management of humans to gods like Madicte and Sirius.]”
“[And Sirius, you said you would solve the personnel shortage through the apostle system. And this is the result. Someone unfit to be a god almost disrupted the order of the divine realm.]”
The God of Punishment’s voice was filled with reprimand. Sirius, avoiding their gazes, stammered,
“W-well…”
He, who had been so arrogant before Elonia and the others, was now cowering on the floor, fidgeting with his pajama sleeves, desperately searching for an excuse.
“I-I tried to use the slaves and apostles to solve the problem! And it worked out in the end!”
‘He’s insane.’
He was using the same excuse Philemon had used earlier.
The God of Punishment, his voice cold and sharp, rebuked Sirius for his childish excuse.
“[It was Madicte, not you, whom the people of this world called upon for help. And yet, you arrived before her. Did you intercept her prayer to avoid being discovered?]”
“…Ugh.”
“[And you only healed your apostle because you were too lazy to intervene yourself. We’ve known you for a long time, Sirius. Do you think we wouldn’t know?]”
Sirius, his face contorted in frustration, fidgeted nervously. It was a known fact, but Madicte couldn’t help but chuckle.
The God of Death sighed deeply and addressed Elonia and Philemon.
“[I apologize. Sirius is under my jurisdiction. And yet, he caused you so much suffering.]”
A god apologizing to humans? Philemon, who knew who they were, wondered if she was dreaming.
The God of Punishment added, his voice filled with reassurance,
“[Sirius broke the rules of the divine realm, and then he tried to cover it up. I promise he will be punished accordingly.]”
“N-no, I don’t want that!”
Sirius protested, but then he was silenced by an invisible force.
Philemon, her eyes shining, couldn’t believe things were finally working out.
But the others weren’t as pleased.
Philemon still had to leave. And she would have to continue serving under that un-godlike god.
And Sirius was going to be severely punished.
It was up to the gods to decide his punishment, but they were the victims. Perhaps they could make a request.
Elonia exchanged a look with Artius.
‘I want to see him punished in front of us.’
‘…I agree.’
They nodded, understanding each other without needing words.
Elonia spoke,
“Then let me hit him. Just once.”
“Yes. …Wait, what?”
Artius, surprised by her unexpected request, stammered. Even Sirius and Madicte, who had been mocking him just moments ago, stared at her, their eyes wide with disbelief.
A human hitting a god? That was absurd.
Even the gods, usually so composed, were flustered.
[D-did you just… ask to hit me?]
“Yes. Just once.”
Elonia repeated her request firmly.
The God of Death, after a moment of stunned silence, cleared his throat and calmly explained,
[I understand your feelings, but—]
“I know humans are insignificant compared to gods. And I know my request is not only absurd but also disrespectful.”
Elonia knew what she was saying.
But she wasn’t backing down.
“But Sirius made everyone suffer. We’re the victims. Don’t we have the right to decide his punishment?”
“Good heavens…”
“Your Highness…”
Even Philemon and Lucius, former clerics, were shocked by her audacity.
They were sure she would be punished for her disrespect. Just then,
[Ahahaha!]
The God of Punishment burst into laughter, a boisterous sound that didn’t match his gentle voice.
[Ahahaha! I like that! I was wondering what kind of punishment to give him!]
Sirius asked anxiously,
“…Laillus, you’re not seriously considering it, are you?”
The God of Punishment, stifling his laughter, scolded Sirius.
[Sirius, you still don’t understand the situation, do you? You’re one step away from oblivion. Be grateful for this lenient punishment.]
“Ugh…”
Sirius knew. That was why he had intercepted Madicte’s prayer. He knew she would report him.
And now he had been discovered.
The God of Punishment, seemingly amused by Elonia’s request, continued, his voice still laced with laughter,
[The Calamity God, struck by a human. What a story! He’ll never be able to gather faith in this land again. It’s a fitting punishment. Punishment should be a learning experience.]
‘It worked?’
Elonia, now surprised by her own success, blinked.
She had just wanted to punch him.
But human desires were insatiable. And she was no exception. A single punch wasn’t enough, not after everything he had done.
“Then—”
Just as she was about to renegotiate, from one punch to ten, the God of Punishment stopped laughing, his voice turning serious.
[But no.]
“Why?!”
He had seemed so agreeable just moments ago! Elonia’s face fell, a mixture of betrayal and disappointment in her eyes. The God of Punishment, however, offered an alternative.
[A human can’t decide a god’s punishment, Sirius. It’s up to the gods.]
What was the point then? They were the victims!
As if reading her mind, the God of Punishment, his voice laced with amusement, said,
[But I have a proposition. A proposition that will benefit you as well.]
A proposition from a god?
They couldn’t trust him. Even Artius, who had never been harmed by a god, pulled Elonia, Philemon, and Lucius closer, taking a few steps back.
The God of Punishment, unfazed by their distrust, continued calmly,
[I’m grateful to you. You restored order to the divine realm and captured Sirius before he could escape punishment.]
“Wait a minute, Laillus. I came here because of my servant, not these humans.”
Madicte interjected, and the God of Punishment, chuckling, soothed her.
[But Madicte, your servant wouldn’t have been able to contact you without them.]
“…”
Madicte, unable to argue, turned away, sulking. The God of Punishment continued,
[I mentioned earlier that Sirius is under the God of Death’s jurisdiction, right?]
“…”
Elonia nodded. The God of Punishment smiled gently and continued,
[I also have gods under my jurisdiction. They govern time and oblivion.]
“…?”
Time and oblivion? What were they going to do with those powers? Just as they were wondering, the God of Punishment turned to Philemon.
[You don’t want to be separated from your family, do you, poor child?]
Philemon flinched, and Artius, feeling her tremble, instinctively tightened his embrace.
Time and oblivion.
Those powers couldn’t punish Sirius. But they could grant the wishes of everyone present.
[Brave soul, I’ll turn back time for you. Only your time, not the time of this world, which has finally found peace. And I’ll make everyone forget about your death, returning you to your everyday life.]
Resurrecting the dead wasn’t enough. He was offering to erase her death completely, to rewrite history just for her.
It was a tempting offer. But,
“Wait!”
“That means erasing our memories!”
Artius and Elonia protested simultaneously.
Philemon’s return would bring them immense joy. They wouldn’t have to suffer the pain of her death, wouldn’t have to remember the sad past. They could finally be happy.
But it wouldn’t be true happiness.
They didn’t want to erase everything they had built together, the hardships they had endured. Elonia didn’t want to forget her past, even the painful parts. And neither did Artius.
Their past had shaped them into who they were today.
[You don’t want your family back?]
The God of Punishment asked. Elonia shook her head instantly.
“No! But I don’t want to forget my feelings, the lessons I learned with my family. I want to remember everything Mother sacrificed for me!”
[…]
The God of Punishment looked down at Elonia, then turned to Philemon.
[What about you?]
“I…”
Philemon hesitated.
Her life had been filled with regrets. She regretted hurting Artius and Elonia. She wanted to erase those painful memories.
But her husband and daughter didn’t want to forget her. Then Philemon also—
“Let them remember.”
She pleaded, her fists clenched.
“Let my husband, my daughter, my family remember everything about me.”
Those who had been loved didn’t want to be forgotten.
And Philemon didn’t want to be forgotten.
“I want to live again. This time, I want to live happily, with my family. I want to see my daughter grow up, surrounded by those I love.”
Her green eyes shone with a desperate longing.
The God of Punishment looked at them one by one, then chuckled softly and gestured towards Sirius, his hand gently brushing against their tangled fates.
[You have many people who cherish you.]
Their relationships were undoubtedly a tangled mess.
A tangled thread was difficult to unravel. And theirs must have been so tangled that it needed to be cut with a knife.
And yet, they had patiently untangled it, thread by thread.
Even with the scars and the severed pieces, they hadn’t given up.
The God of Punishment was pleased.
[Yes, humans should be this foolishly sentimental.]
A lump formed in their throats, their eyes stinging. It sounded like an insult, but it wasn’t. It was a validation of their efforts, their struggles.
The God of Punishment, his voice filled with warmth, granted them their wish.
[Those who have done well deserve a reward. Now, go wherever you wish.]
A small dirt path appeared beneath their feet. Elonia, looking down at the path, then up at the gods, asked,
“We can go anywhere?”
[Yes, wherever you wish.]
Elonia, Artius, Philemon, and Lucius exchanged glances.
The path, overgrown with weeds, dotted with puddles and rocks, would lead them wherever they wished to go.
They nodded, a silent agreement passing between them.
The path they created together was sometimes straight, sometimes winding, its direction unpredictable.
But one thing was certain.
They were moving forward.