Ch.305Cradle of Abundance. The Hargal Plains (1)

“Holy sh—”

Viktor uttered a rather crude expression, unbecoming of a god.

However, Simon, who should have reprimanded him for maintaining decorum, was strangely holding his breath in silence.

“My goodness… Is all that grain? I’m speechless…”

The reason was simple.

Even Simon was overwhelmed by the sheer vastness of the Hargal Plains and the colorful crops growing across them.

“If Hargal alone were separated, we’d have 14 continents instead of 13.”

“Well… That doesn’t even sound like a joke anymore.”

On the enormous plains of Scofield—so vast they could hardly be called “plains”—billions of people were tending to crops, sweating inside agricultural machinery.

Curious, Viktor picked up a map to check the area of the Hargal Plains.

“….67 million km²…?”

“Holy fuck. That’s insanely huge.”

Lucia inadvertently blurted out a curse, but no one reprimanded her.

The scene below them was truly the perfect illustration of what a horizon is for someone who had never understood the concept.

Among the 13 continents, the smallest, Centrum, had an area of 200 million km², while the Raysion continent, where the Hargal Plains were located, measured 530 million km².

“200 million minus 67 million equals… 163 million, so…”

Viktor employed all his arithmetic skills to calculate the proportion of the Hargal Plains relative to the Raysion continent.

“12.64%…”

This was purely based on satellite observation measurements. Unofficially, when including directly connected areas indistinguishable to the naked eye, that ratio rose to 20-30%.

A single plain accounting for one-tenth, or potentially up to one-third, of a continent seemed unbelievable. Of course, intellectually one could say “I see,” but witnessing it firsthand was an entirely different experience.

“They say grain prices would increase tenfold if this plain’s crops disappeared? Even a thousandfold increase wouldn’t be enough!”

“Wow… I’ve seen cities submerged in farmland before, but cities buried in rice paddies and fields? That’s a first for me!”

“If all these crops were replaced with forests, it wouldn’t look out of place at all.”

Perhaps the Hargal Plains could genuinely display a sign reading “The Place That Surprised God.”

How many humans could enjoy the luxury of looking down upon this massive plain from the sky? Probably not many.

An overwhelming landscape whose boundaries remained imperceptible even from mountain peaks.

If the word “vastness” were to take physical form, this would surely be its ultimate manifestation.

“Beautiful yet terrifying. Even as a god, one cannot conceal the breadth of the world.”

Viktor trembled as he spoke those words.

This was it. This was the sensation he had sought through his adventures, the feeling he had wanted to experience.

Viktor expressed his joy with hearty laughter at the realization that he could still feel this sensation even as a god.

“Now, let’s head to Karluk City. That’s where Moneta ascended.”

Viktor gave the order to the helmsman, who began turning the wheel while consulting the map.

If asked about the center of the Hargal Plains, 140 out of 100 people would undoubtedly answer “Karluk City.”

Why the extra 40? That includes the floating population as well.

Karluk City was not only Moneta’s ascension site but also, despite being situated in the eastern part of the Hargal Plains, benefited from its proximity to the sea. Through an incredibly long artificial canal, maritime shipping was possible, making it a strategic location for exporting agricultural products from the entire Hargal Plains to other continents.

-This is the Karluk Municipal Air Force. From now on, our municipal air force will escort the flagship carrying the Sun God.-

Soon, escort squadrons began to accompany the Sky Warden, and its helmsman carefully operated the wheel, following their guidance.

-Confirming the Sky Warden’s entry. Welcome to Karluk, Sun God.-

Sun God.

That had now become the sole and absolute title describing Viktor.

“Is this what they call unification?”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. Just talking to myself. We should prepare to disembark now. Everyone get ready. We won’t stay long, but we’ll still need to receive their hospitality.”

Viktor said this as he prepared to disembark.

Soon, the Sky Warden was moored to the docking tower, and an aerial bridge was installed connecting the hatch to the tower.

Crossing the sky bridge that he hadn’t traversed in a very long time, Viktor gazed at the brilliantly illuminated city below.

Surely, the people here must live without worry.

*

They had no money.

That was the beginning of all concerns for the dock workers.

“Boss… please raise our wages. At this rate, we’ll starve to death…!”

“Oh? How much do you want?”

“If you could just give us 20 silver coins a month…”

“I see? Well, you don’t need to come in tomorrow.”

“…What?”

Complain about wages and you get fired.

“At this rate, we’ll all starve to death! Let’s try to do something together!”

“What can we possibly do? Even the judges are in league with them…”

Even appealing to the law had no persuasive power for those too poor to have voting rights.

“Mom, why are those people’s faces so dirty?”

“Shh. They do menial work because they’re uneducated. If you don’t want to end up like them, study hard.”

Despite just trying to make a living, they were mocked for their very existence.

It’s true they were uneducated and dirty. But is that reason enough to ridicule others?

Yet the heartless people of this city were no different from evil heretics who summoned and neglected the demons of poverty and destitution in order to worship the god of abundance.

Curtis was a family man who could barely survive.

The reason he sought work despite all manner of contempt and oppression was for his young children and wife waiting at home. Like all fathers in the world.

“Honey… what are you doing? Honey? Honey!”

One day, after finishing his grueling work, he returned home with a meager payment of 10 copper coins, which he had hidden carefully in his clothes for fear someone might steal them.

What greeted him was his wife, sitting on the floor in a daze, the inner room’s door ajar.

And the unsettling creaking sound coming from inside.

Creak… creak…

“No… no… no. No. NO!!!!”

His son had hanged himself, and not for any significant reason.

Not from hunger, not from bullying.

It was simply from the legitimate despair that came from an insight beyond his years—that when he grew up, he would be forced to live the same life as his father.

Curtis wept for a long time, clinging to the body of his son who had hanged himself from a beam without leaving a note, as he had never learned to write.

His son, whom he had always proudly described to others as exceptionally bright for his age, had ended his life without ever having the chance to bloom.

Not long after, his wife threw herself off a bridge, and Curtis, with no strength left to live, ended up on the streets in such a pitiful state that even beggars would toss him a copper coin.

He could no longer live. He didn’t want to live.

To prove that a person could die by simply stopping their breath, Curtis slowly began to close his eyes.

But why? A warmth gradually spread through his body. Despite it being winter, a season when frost formed on the harbor and workers had to break it with hammers.

“Extra! Extra! The Sun God is coming to Karluk!”

At that moment, the crisp voices of newspaper delivery boys began to pierce his ears.

Looking up at the sky, he saw a massive battleship. And even someone like him, who knew nothing about faith, could feel that overwhelming presence.

Curtis rose to his feet without realizing it.

And like a madman, he began to follow the ship, and no one looked at him strangely.

Everyone in the city was heading toward the mooring tower to see the god.

When the Sun God finally appeared, Curtis stared with wide eyes at the divine form.

That is… God.

At that moment, a single purpose formed in Curtis’s mind.

If he told the god about his situation, might the workers’ conditions improve even a little?

If he could express his suffering to such a being, at least he would have no regrets when he died.

With that thought, Curtis began running toward the Sun God.

Like a moth drawn to flame, he sprinted, evading policemen who swung clubs and shouted, and finally reached the Sun God who had turned to look at the approaching sound. With his body at its limit, he grabbed the hem of the god’s pants.

In that instant, millions held their breath, and Curtis painfully uttered what could be his last words:

“Sun God… please hear my story….”

A tear streamed down his face.

It was the tear of an incompetent provider who couldn’t protect his child or wife, a useless man who had never seen the color of silver coins in his life, a pitiful 36-year-old who had never eaten his fill.

And as he closed his eyes, the Lord of Exaltation raised him up and said:

“Speak. I will listen.”