Ch.119Chapter 119

In this world, as in past lives, there was a custom of regarding beasts as either good or bad omens.

Crows in particular were often considered good omens in the north, and in the forests as well.

This was because crows were wise creatures that knew how to escape danger and were appreciated for bringing news from distant places.

Naturally, the Wendigo didn’t dislike crows either…

“Because of you, I’m starting to dislike innocent crows.”

The Wendigo rested his head on his hand and grumbled at Alfodur.

How unfortunate that the ability to possess the most common and familiar animal in this forest belonged to a god who reeked of trickery like Alfodur.

The Wendigo glared disapprovingly at the crow hopping around the table, peering into a bowl of berries.

The crow, or rather Alfodur, pecked at a ripe green grape and replied nonchalantly.

“That’s too harsh. Have I ever caused you harm until now?”

“Mental harm? I’d say you cause that constantly.”

“According to the fair contract judged by the Creator God, it seems not.”

So this is what a god of poetry—no, a god of trickery—was like.

Despite the Wendigo’s obvious discomfort, Alfodur leisurely savored the grapes. The Wendigo shuddered and asked Alfodur directly.

“What scheme are you plotting by becoming a patron of the university?”

“These grapes are delicious! This crow seems to like them too, so please wait a moment.”

‘Perhaps he wants me to break the contract.’

The Wendigo stared at Alfodur, who wouldn’t stop pecking, and thought.

Alfodur, surrendering to the crow’s instincts, was devouring the grapes with possessed pecking.

If he had created a body and visited instead, the Wendigo could have pretended to make a mistake and struck his head.

Unaware that the Wendigo was contemplating how to crush him, Alfodur finished demolishing a bunch of grapes and flapped his wings in satisfaction.

“Your servants are truly loyal. To offer dozens of bunches of such delicious grapes!”

“If you’re thinking of messing with my servants, I’d prefer you didn’t.”

“Hey now. I understand, so put those claws down. What crime has this crow committed?”

Alfodur folded his flapping wings and stared at the Wendigo before speaking.

“As I’ve said before, we Northern gods have changed quite a bit. One might say we’ve reflected on our sins at the end of our boredom.”

“…From what I’ve heard, the world fell into chaos when you all returned.”

The Wendigo was dumbfounded. He never expected Alfodur to claim with his own mouth that they had become good.

How few good people must exist in the world for those who brought chaos to claim they were good?

Alfodur, seemingly feeling guilty, turned his head back and forth, avoiding eye contact.

Though with a bird’s eye structure, he couldn’t help but see the Wendigo no matter how he turned.

“Tch. Can’t make a one-eyed crow, so… Anyway! What I’m trying to say is that we’ve agreed not to commit destructive acts like before!”

Alfodur proudly spread his wings and shouted.

Before suffering punishment from the Creator God, the Northern gods were no different from coachmen driving unstoppable carriages.

The problem was that the coachmen had no intention of stopping, like drunkards whipping their horses for fun.

Great heroes were meant to bloom using the corpses of other heroes as fertilizer!

“Forgetting why they sought power in the first place, enduring trials whose purpose they’ve forgotten, and looking back at their path with empty expressions at the final chapter of their fate—that was truly the best…”

“What terrible taste. Enjoying pushing others into pain and watching them despair.”

The Wendigo was disgusted. He wasn’t a pervert who enjoyed causing pain to others.

He was perfectly happy just enjoying delicious meals, sharing bright smiles with his people, and having something to smirk about when reflecting on his day.

“What can I do? Gods are born with overwhelming power and immortality. For us who lived in happiness forever, despair was a kind of romance.”

Alfodur shrugged his wings. He had no intention of denying the Wendigo’s words.

The Northern heroes walked paths of blood, and most often ended up being avenged by other heroes.

Alfodur didn’t deny that they had forced such paths upon them.

“But we’ve changed since experiencing loss, sorrow, and despair.”

Gods don’t hunger. They don’t age with time, nor do they weaken from illness.

Their bodies were truly perfect… and thus, they knew no deficiency.

At least, most gods were like that before being banished from the middle realm.

They realized deficiency through their expulsion from the middle realm… and also discovered the emotion of attachment.

“I understand why you dislike us. There are indeed some who can’t break their old habits and continue causing trouble.”

There was a sky god who couldn’t control his lower body and enjoyed debauchery in his former domain.

There was a god who, saddened by the barren land and people’s hearts neglected for ages, used rain and wind to cultivate the earth.

There was a sun god who was enraged seeing the descendants of a once-mighty empire—who had built golden temples—living like natives.

Naturally, lands where gods exercised their power fell into chaos.

Whether their intentions were good or evil, problems inevitably arose when gods began to heavily influence the middle realm.

“After seeing the chaos in the south, we became certain. Ah, we can’t even play there if we wanted to!”

“Stop flapping your beak. So?”

“So we decided to play quietly. Not meddling too much with mortal lives through power or trials… truly just providing a kind of patronage.”

They had no desire to be captured by the Creator God again and exiled to that unbearably boring place.

Moreover…

“At first I thought it was because our power had weakened, but I found there’s a certain joy in sharing just a little power.”

The Northern gods discovered the pleasure of watching mortals grow with minimal power.

Rather than the chaos caused by overwhelming power, they began to find joy in watching mortals contemplate, grow, and change as a result.

Alfodur recalled a warrior he had recently blessed and preened his beak with his wing.

“I gave him just enough blessing to make his body stronger, and he stabbed his father who was trying to hand his lover over to the Empire, withstood the spears and swords of warriors, and escaped.”

Covered in wounds, the warrior confessed his love and rode away on horseback with a hazy consciousness.

As soon as they left tribal lands, the warrior’s lover tenderly cared for his wounds…

“When I saw them recently, the warrior had hung up his shield and sword, vowing to protect the woman. He reluctantly set out to return to his tribe to protect her.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Exactly! We’ve started to find interest in such small stories.”

Alfodur nodded, raising his wings toward the Wendigo.

The Northern gods watched alongside Alfodur and found it fascinating.

They had given only a small power, yet seeing someone fight for their lover with it was truly entertaining.

Thus, the Northern gods decided to enjoy this world in a new way.

They would bestow powers that, though modest, could change fate depending on the mortal’s choices, and then observe these mortals.

But there was one problem…

“Even when we find suitable friends, most are under your influence. Everyone’s just stomping their feet in frustration.”

“So you want to become a university patron to enjoy yourself?”

“There are so many interesting people there.”

They were people admitted through talent or status from various regions. How many among them wouldn’t have their own stories?

The gods were like children standing before a box full of toys they couldn’t play with.

Alfodur flew onto the Wendigo’s shoulder and whined.

“Wouldn’t it be better if those who receive blessings could be helpful to you anyway?”

“Hmm…”

The Wendigo considered it. The argument wasn’t entirely without merit.

It was inevitable that gods would influence the middle realm. These powerful, bored beings weren’t the type to just sit around doing nothing.

Perhaps it would be better if it happened somewhere he could monitor directly…

“Please, I beg you. I am the king of gods, and you have no idea how many complaints I’ve heard. If I wrote them all down, they would fill this room and—”

“Shut up before I fill a room with my own complaints.”

The Wendigo sighed and set several conditions for Alfodur.

Excluding the most basic restrictions he had learned from Dario Kaffustin, they were simply as follows:

Do not bestow power on those with evil tendencies.

Do not cause trouble by becoming obsessed with mortals.

And finally, pay with several treasures as compensation.

“…Everything else is fine, but isn’t asking for treasures too much? We’re talking about mythical era treasures here.”

“I’m not asking for anything too precious, something moderate will do.”

“Urgh.”

Alfodur groaned in distress, but the Wendigo wasn’t fooled.

How could the king of gods truly begrudge handing over a few treasures?

The Wendigo pressed Alfodur in a disinterested voice.

“If you don’t like it, let’s forget this conversation…”

“Sigh. You used to be more innocent, which is a shame. Fine. I don’t have treasures to give you right now, but I’ll specially engrave runes on three items for you.”

“Can’t Summoners handle runes too?”

“…Are you seriously comparing divine runes to those used by Summoners?”

Alfodur asked the Wendigo in disbelief.

The runes used by Summoners were, simply put, the most basic kind. Naturally, the runes used by gods were of a higher grade.

“Even one engraving would be considered a legendary artifact among mortals, so I’d appreciate some gratitude.”

“I don’t particularly need them, but I suppose they’re better than nothing.”

“……”

Alfodur fell silent, unable to argue. Indeed, treasures useful to the Wendigo were hard to find in this world.

After all, he himself was a monster with astonishing power.

Alfodur quietly added the additional terms to the contract he had sworn to the Creator God.

Having achieved his goal, Alfodur was about to slip out through the window when…

“Ah, about those additional terms in the contract. If someone taught you those, would you mind telling me who?”

“Why are you curious about that?”

The Wendigo was puzzled. He couldn’t understand why Alfodur was interested.

Perhaps he wanted revenge on Dario for making his scams impossible…

“They seem to have quite a talent for trickery. The restrictions are impressively detailed, which is only possible for someone with that kind of mindset.”

“…And?”

“Well, I thought I might bestow a small blessing on them?”

“……”

The Wendigo thought of Dario, who was good at scams, and grimaced. Even talent should have its limits.

The Wendigo chased Alfodur away without answering.