Chapter 200 - Sloth and Thunder (2)

"Give me back my divine stature!!"

Her face seemed to hold every grievance in the world, crying out, 'This is so unfair!' Swallowing his bewilderment, Alon asked,

"What do you mean?"

"Don't pretend you don't know! You took all my divine stature!"

"... I took all your divine stature?"

His response made the girl look even more aggrieved.

'What is she talking about?'

Alon first tried to calmly work out why the girl before him was asking him to return her divine stature. Then...

"Ah."

He let out a quiet exclamation.

The Thunder Serpent quest. The NPC. The girl who always appeared.

One thought led to another in a long chain, until he finally arrived at a conclusion.

"... Kalanon?"

He wasn't certain, but it was the most reasonable deduction he could make at the moment.

At that name, the girl—no, Kalanon—clenched both fists and shouted again.

"Why pretend you don't know when you do!?"

Alon realized his deduction had been correct.

There was still one thing he couldn't understand.

"I stole your divine stature?"

That he had stolen the divine stature of Kalanon, the Receiver of Lightning, was something Alon could not accept. He had never once tried to steal anyone else's divine stature. He had never even made a deliberate effort to become a god.

But at his question, Kalanon planted both hands on her hips in disbelief and shouted,

"Huh? You did more than just steal it! You've turned me into an old has-been shoved into a back room!"

"I did?"

"Yes! You! Can't you see this!?"

Kalanon flung her hand open toward the empty air. In what had been a night sky streaming with the Milky Way, images of familiar statues began springing up everywhere.

"You're here, you're there, you're way over there—and all the way over there—and here too!!"

Every one was a statue erected by the Thunder Serpent tribe. After showing them to him, the girl huffed and poured out her resentment.

"They're all you, not me! Because of you, all the faith that should be coming to me is being stolen!"

Alon had a rough grasp of the situation now.

"Hmm, I more or less understand. It may sound absurd to say this, but I have never done anything specifically to steal your divine stature."

"Does that make any sense?"

"I agree it doesn't, but..."

"Then you're saying the worshippers who offered their faith to me started revering you for no reason at all? Why is the faith that should have come to me going to you instead!?"

Kalanon glared at him with distrust, as if telling him to come up with a more believable denial. But Alon stood firm.

"I'm sorry to say this, but I'm innocent."

He truly was.

"I have never once said or done anything that could bring about a situation like th—"

Never... had he?

"..."

Alon stopped speaking. A possibility had suddenly crossed his mind: something he had taken so completely for granted that he had paid it little attention and forgotten about it until now.

'Could it be because of that passage?'

Alon had never once claimed to be Kalanon, the Receiver of Lightning, or acted as though he were. Nor had he done anything that could make anyone suspect he was Kalanon.

Yes, until he learned that the girl before him was Kalanon, he had been certain he was innocent.

["I, hidden beneath the low sky, shall come to you; you who greet the dawn, welcome me with joy."]

Alon remembered the passage he had recited before the Thunder Serpent tribe. It was the very passage the girl had spoken that caused the tribe to treat her as an honored guest.

That one time he had repeated it word for word had surely caused them to mistake him for Kalanon.

"Ah."

Only then did the pieces of the misunderstanding that had baffled him begin falling into place. Things began making sense one by one, and his scattered questions were gradually answered—

"You did, didn't you?"

But confronted with Kalanon stamping her feet in indignation, Alon could only avert his eyes.

"See! You did, didn't you!?"

"..."

####

Alon had used that passage. Though he didn't know exactly how the faith had gathered around him, there was only one conclusion: he had been "mistaken for Kalanon out of the blue" and taken the divine stature that should have gone to her.

That was the conclusion to this entire story.

"..."

"..."

Alon looked at the girl. The girl glared—no, looked—back at him. Her aggrieved eyes pricked insistently at his conscience. He cleared his throat unnecessarily and apologized.

"... That was not my intention, but I owe you an apology."

It was a straightforward apology.

In the same resentful voice as before, Kalanon tried to say something.

"Give it ba—"

"Huh?"

"?"

Then her pupils widened, and she closed her mouth.

"... Hello?"

"..."

"Is something wrong?"

Kalanon had frozen like a paused video. While Alon tilted his head in puzzlement, she replied awkwardly, moving like a rusty machine creaking into motion.

"... Ah, n-no."

She erased her aggrieved expression and forced up the corners of her mouth.

"No, I'm the one who should apologize... Now that I think about it, I don't think I'm in any position to criticize you."

"... All of a sudden?"

And now she was apologizing? Alon was bewildered by her abrupt change in attitude, but she kept speaking with that awkward smile fixed on her face.

"Yes. I wouldn't have been able to help my subjects anyway, and, um, uh... then I would naturally have been forgotten."

Alon had no difficulty understanding what she meant. In the game, the Kalanon NPC only appeared once the story had progressed somewhat, not at the beginning.

'Though she did eventually save them by using Elivan.'

After putting his thoughts in order, Alon got to the point.

"So, what would you like me to do? Do you want me to return your divine stat—"

"No, no, no, no."

Before he could finish, Kalanon began shaking her head vigorously.

"Absolutely. Absolutely not. Yes, yes, of course..."

"... Didn't you ask me to return your divine stature at first?"

"I did, but, um... thinking about it, I don't think getting it back would be possible."

"Why?"

Kalanon finally stopped shaking her head and awkwardly clasped her hands.

"Regardless of how unfair I feel this is, their faith is already directed toward you. You know the basic principles of how divine stature works, don't you?"

"That one can become a god by accumulating faith?"

"That's right. And now that you're receiving faith as Kalanon, the Receiver of Lightning, there's no way for me to get that faith back."

"Couldn't I go tell them myself?"

"No matter how often you tell them you're not Kalanon, that belief won't be easily broken. Faith produces its result by traveling through belief and arriving at a symbol."

The girl paused before adding,

"Even if you corrected them and redirected their faith to me, my divine stature would already be greatly weakened."

"Why is that?"

"Unless the object of their belief changes slowly over a very long time, faith doesn't gather easily when that object suddenly changes."

After thinking for a moment, Kalanon offered an example.

"Would you believe me if I said I was a primordial god?"

"... Not easily."

"That's how it works. Faith accumulates through absolute belief. If the object of that belief changes, the belief itself inevitably weakens. Besides, I don't even have the power to manifest myself in reality right now."

"..."

"In other words, there's no way at all for me to reclaim that faith from you."

Her voice trailed off with a hint of loneliness.

"... Then what happens to you?"

"A forgotten god ceases to exist."

"But aren't you the real Kalanon?"

"I told you, didn't I? There is no 'real Kalanon.' Gods are ultimately beings created by their subjects. Unless they're beings like the primordial gods—"

"It's determined by the people who believe."

"That's right."

Behind his expressionless face, Alon felt distinctly awkward. He hadn't intended it, but by acquiring Kalanon's divine stature, he had put the real Kalanon in danger of disappearing.

Through his conversation with the girl, he also understood why merely being "mistaken" for the primordial elf had enabled him to use that being's divine stature.

As he absorbed this new realization while grappling with his discomfort, she spoke.

"So, could I perhaps ask you a favor?"

"A favor?"

Kalanon asked cautiously,

"Yes. My disappearance is really as inevitable as a law of nature, but I still don't want to disappear. Could you help me?"

"Do you know a way to avoid disappearing?"

"Surprisingly, it isn't that difficult. In fact, it would benefit you too."

"... What is it?"

"All you need to do is learn from me how to wield Kalanon's divine stature."

Just as she said, the method wasn't complicated.

"That will sustain your existence?"

"Hmm, yes. To be precise, I'll need to do a little more 'work,' but if you become fully capable of wielding Kalanon's power, I can avoid disappearing. I have a way of my own."

"I have no particular reason to refuse that proposal."

He certainly didn't. It would actually benefit him. As Alon nodded, Kalanon clapped her hands.

"Then please find the symbolic object."

"... The symbolic object? Wait, wasn't that thing in the kingdom earlier the symbolic object?"

"That's only a stone tablet imbued with Kalanon's power. The actual symbolic object is somewhere else."

Just as Alon was about to ask something—

RUMBLE!

"!?"

The world suddenly began collapsing, crumpling in on itself. When a startled Alon looked at Kalanon, the girl hurriedly spoke as well.

"Um, Lord Alon? I'm counting on you. Uh... you need to come to the symbolic object within a week, all right?"

"A week?"

"Yes. Um, there's a strange fellow near the symbolic object right now, but please, I'm counting on you!"

"I'll try."

"Don't try, you absolutely have to—plea—"

Before she could finish—

"Ah."

"... Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing."

Alon was back where he had been: the royal palace he had walked into. Looking around, he quietly sighed.

"Let's go for now."

####

Upon reaching the audience chamber, Alon came face-to-face with Luxible's monarch.

"..."

Pamilono, King of Luxible, looked down at him, radiating regal majesty that far exceeded the realm's designation as a principality. Beside him stood a very familiar face.

'Jenira?'

Jenira, the younger sister of Sircal the Swift, who had sought Alon out at the earlier ball, stood beside King Pamilono like a strategist.

After staring blankly at her for a moment, Alon approached Pamilono.

"Are you Marquis Pallatio?"

A deep, dignified voice rang out. As he was accustomed to doing, Alon lowered his head to offer a formal greeting—

CRASH!

—but never finished.

"?"

When he raised his head again, Pamilono was staring at Jenira in dismay. More precisely, at the shattered piece of wine bottle in her hand.

"I'm sorry. I accidentally broke the bottle."

Jenira apologized in a tone that sounded anything but sorry, gripping the bottle's neck upside down like a weapon.

Red drops dripped from the broken bottle, little by little, like blood.

"???"

Alon's face filled with puzzlement, but only briefly.

"Be careful."

"Yes."

"Ahem."

Pamilono cleared his throat again and resumed his deep, majestic tone.

"Marquis Pallatio, welcome to this realm."

CRASH!

"..."

Yet another wine bottle broke.

"Oh my, I'm terribly sorry. I keep having these 'accidents.'"

Hadn't she just smashed it against the wall? Alon thought, but he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud. Jenira simply stared fixedly at Pamilono, broken wine bottle in hand.

Just as Alon was about to tilt his head involuntarily at this incomprehensible situation—

"... Lord Marquis Pallatio, we are honored to welcome you here."

Unlike before, King Pamilono now addressed him respectfully. Seeing Jenira nod in approval, Alon murmured,

"... Ah."

He gained a keen appreciation of roughly how things worked in this kingdom.