Ch.1161Goddess Role
by fnovelpia
As if welcoming me—or perhaps trying to thoroughly trick me—a golden pillar of light enveloped me like a brilliant spotlight.
Naturally, the surroundings were thrown into complete chaos.
“Oh, Astraea…!”
The priests knelt in worship, immersed in religious ecstasy like fanatics witnessing a miracle.
“Look at that light! That brilliant pure gold!”
“It’s Astika! The Holy Lady has arrived!”
The citizens who had waited in line for dozens of minutes to enter the church seemed to forget their troubles, immediately breaking from the queue and rushing toward me.
“Astika? Shouldn’t we call her Lady Median!”
Some argued it was blasphemous to call a goddess a saint, while others angrily retorted that I was originally their saint and who were they to block this as blasphemy.
The once quiet and solemn church entrance instantly became as noisy as a marketplace.
“Lady Median!” “Oh Goddess…!” “Holy Lady!” “Noble Austika!” “Your Majesty the Queen!” “Lady Astika!”
This is truly a mess, an absolute mess.
I knew this would happen, which is why I’ve been avoiding going outside lately and staying cooped up in the palace. But sure enough, the moment I step out, this is what happens.
All sorts of people gathered like clouds, surrounding me in worship. As someone who doesn’t particularly enjoy this situation, I could feel a sigh welling up inside me.
Though I didn’t let it escape my lips, swallowing it quietly instead.
“Goddess, please bless my child…!”
Some even thrust their infants at me, begging for my blessing.
They want their child to grow up to be as excellent, great, righteous, and just as me?
As they reverently held out their children like sacrificial offerings, I couldn’t have been more bewildered.
‘Hmm…’
Yes, I understand the desire for one’s child to prosper, but… to wish they’d grow up like me?
“…Your heart is in the right place, but I am not someone your child should emulate. The path I’ve walked has been treacherous and cruel like a blood-soaked road. To bless them to grow up like me would be more curse than blessing.”
From my perspective, that was more a curse than a blessing.
To be honest, neither my personality nor my life experiences were things others should aspire to emulate.
If a child grew up like me, it wouldn’t mean they’d grown up well—it would mean their life and character had become thoroughly twisted and warped.
“If you wish for your child to grow up healthy and become someone great enough to have their name recorded in history… it would be better to pray for Astraea’s blessing instead.”
So I politely declined with carefully chosen words.
Before I awakened my divine nature, I might have pretended to give a blessing with some plausible words, but now I feared that if I told this child to grow up like me, it might actually come true.
—-
The woman who had asked for a blessing for her child seemed to accept my advice, bowing in gratitude before turning back toward the church.
Afterward, I spoke to others gathered around me, gradually dispersing them.
To those prostrating themselves in worship, I advised that while their devotion was commendable, they had their own lives to attend to.
In other words, stop blocking my path and bowing—if you came here with business at the church, hurry back to the line.
Honestly, I doubted such generic advice would be effective… but surprisingly, most followed it faithfully.
“If the goddess wishes it…”
Judging by how excessively cautious and respectful they were as they withdrew, they seemed to have taken my words not as simple advice but as divine command.
That dispersed roughly 80% of the crowd.
Of course, the rest still gathered around me, but I figured I could scatter them too with the right words.
For example, those arguing about my title, debating what was blasphemous or improper.
“To reject the divine name and insist only on the baptismal name as a human—are you denying her divinity?”
“How dare you make such insinuations! Are you saying a follower of Astraea cannot call Lady Astika by her name?”
What began as a minor disagreement had escalated to the point where they seemed ready to grab each other’s collars.
They were so caught up in their argument that they completely missed my first advice about attending to their own lives.
“…They are all my names, so I care not what you call me. Stop quarreling and causing a disturbance.”
I advised them that it was all fine with me, so they should stop fighting over such trivial matters.
Only then did they seem to realize they had caused enough commotion to draw my attention. With flustered faces, they apologized repeatedly before finally leaving.
It’s ironic that they used to call me “Were Eater” and worse, but now they’re arguing over the proper way to address me.
In the days when I was an enemy rather than an ally of the Westerners, I was called by far worse names.
Finally, after dispersing most of the remaining 20% as well, I was able to enter the church.
Of course, knowing that entering through the main door and heading to the central chapel would only repeat the ordeal I’d just experienced, I went through the back door toward the private worship annex.
[You’ve become quite adept at playing goddess despite being thrust into the role. Though you’ve always had a way with words.]
As I quietly walked down the corridor of the annex, Hersella, who had been silently observing my goddess act, suddenly spoke up.
[Why not commit fully and build up your religious following? If you do it right, you might even surpass the Church of Elpinel.]
‘As if I would.’
Suggesting I focus on playing goddess? Hersella, what a chilling suggestion.
I could tell from her tone that she was joking, but still, there are things one should and shouldn’t say.
I’m already getting headaches from the crowds. If I built up such a following, I’d eventually be unable to go outside at all.
I’d probably have to avoid setting foot on the ground entirely and fly through the sky whenever I wanted to go somewhere, to prevent crowds from following me.
Or perhaps I should disappear for about two hundred years, only reemerging when everyone who had met me in person was dead and gone.
By then, I could disguise my identity as an ordinary mixed Ka’har just by changing my appearance and using an alias.
—-
The church annex was built at the request of dignitaries who wanted a more solemn and private worship space instead of the central chapel crowded with pilgrims.
As such, only church officials, high nobles, and wealthy donors who had contributed substantial offerings could use it.
I wondered if it was right for the church to discriminate based on money or status… but well, it couldn’t be helped.
Many people wanted private worship, but space was limited, so distinctions had to be made, however unjust.
In a world of equality without class distinctions, they could simply use a reservation system, but this was a world with kings, nobles, commoners, and slaves.
If they operated on a reservation system without regard for status, lower-status reservations would mysteriously disappear or be canceled for “personal” reasons.
For this reason, unlike the central chapel, the private worship room was filled with luxury items donated by influential figures from all walks of life.
Bookshelves and shelves made of the finest wood were filled with statues carved from ivory, pure silver, and jewels. The tapestries on the walls and carpets on the floor were several times more expensive than the hide of a Werebeast Champion.
The goddess statue in the center of the prayer room was made of solid gold, and the row of candlesticks on the semicircular platform behind it were carved from dragon bones and covered with dragon scales from who knows where.
Even the candles, burning with a soft light and fragrance, were the same high-quality ones provided in my chambers at the palace.
‘They’ve completely wallpapered the place with money.’
Though these weren’t purchased by the church but donated by influential figures to be displayed here…
‘Even my bedroom isn’t this extravagant. How much did all this cost?’
To my eyes, this was extravagance beyond extravagance.
Of course, I understood the church’s position.
They couldn’t very well store away or sell items donated specifically for display here, so they had no choice but to do as the donors wished, whether they liked it or not.
It’s not as if this was unjust or against doctrine—there was no rule in Astraea’s teachings forbidding luxury items in churches.
In fact, not displaying these luxury items here would be more contrary to doctrine.
It would mean accepting items with the promise to display them, then privately appropriating them as if the donor’s wishes didn’t matter.
[That’s because you have no interest in such vanity.]
‘That’s true.’
In a way, it was only natural that this room was more luxurious than my bedroom.
The issue wasn’t with this room—rather, my chambers were excessively modest for someone who was both queen and goddess.
While the church priests had to be mindful of powerful figures to avoid conflict, I was in a position where no one on earth was above me.
Except for items directly affecting quality of life like beds, or equipment useful in battle like weapons and armor, I had Eleonora sell off all decorative items as soon as they arrived.
So my chambers and study contained only the minimum high-quality furniture needed to maintain appearances, with no purely decorative luxury items at all.
Of course, this wasn’t because I was truly frugal, but because I simply had no interest in impractical decorative items… but well, what works, works.
As a result, my courtiers, mistakenly believing I valued modesty and austerity, were restraining their own extravagance to follow my perceived example.
So there was no reason to reveal the truth.
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