Ch.398The Path to the Euphemia Continent (1)

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“They were powerful vengeful spirits. If it weren’t for me, surely over a million exorcists would have been needed.”

The Emperor said this while wiping away his sweat.

Releasing 76 billion vengeful spirits was a difficult task even for a god. It was only because he possessed divine power incomparable to humans that it ended with just a sweaty back. If mortals had attempted the exorcism, a great disaster would certainly have occurred.

“This land is safe now. As for the split earth… I cannot do anything about that. Make sure to fill it properly.”

“We wouldn’t dream of troubling Your Majesty with such trivial matters. We can handle such things ourselves.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Victor turned his head to look at the Iron Walker party.

They all seemed surprised, but they were, after all, companions of a god, and led by Simon, they gradually began to regain their composure.

“Is everyone alright? With vengeful spirits of this magnitude, you must have been affected as well.”

“I put up a barrier. From the moment the ground split.”

“Ah, I see.”

Magic is such a convenient thing. Perhaps that’s why the majority of people still remain in the medieval era?

Just to make a single match, you need the technology and equipment to cut wood pieces uniformly, methods to synthesize and mass-produce flammable substances like potassium chlorate, and materials like diatomaceous earth and red phosphorus to create friction for ignition.

But magic? You can simply snap your fingers to create a spark, making it incomparable. It’s even truly eco-friendly, leaving behind no ash or burnt twigs. No matter how hard science tries, it can’t compete when it leaves behind waste and debris.

Of course, once you reach a certain level, science can achieve incredible feats that magic cannot touch, but the problem is that this “certain level” is virtually unattainable for ordinary people.

“Oh dear.”

This won’t do. His thoughts keep straying in strange directions.

Why on earth was he comparing the differences and efficiencies of science and magic using the example of match factories after hearing about barriers being cast? Just minutes ago, he had been purifying tens of billions of vengeful spirits?

Victor had always enjoyed contemplation even before becoming a god, but after his ascension, it felt as if… his personal thoughts were being thoroughly censored. With each continent he crossed, each place he passed through, and with each devotee who dedicated themselves to him, the human part of him was gradually being chipped away.

“Victor?”

As he frowned and placed his hand on his head, Simon cautiously called out to him.

“No. Perhaps I’m tired. My thoughts keep wandering to strange places. I need to rest a bit. And then we should leave. Our work here is done.”

“Our work…”

Simon looked at Victor with mixed emotions as he spoke.

Since when did exorcising and purifying tens of billions of vengeful spirits become a task to be done at a beautiful landmark? Of course, understanding Victor’s situation and position, he didn’t speak further, but Victor, looking down at them from a ladder that could never be climbed again, appeared incredibly lonely.

A god above gods. The creator of the world and master of humanity, whom no one could approach.

He was alone.

*

“Glory to the Sun who has forgiven our sins.”

“Long live the Sun.”

Upon descending from the mountain, Victor inevitably faced an endless procession of worshippers. He knew it was only natural to receive worship after what he had done, but wouldn’t even a god grow weary of devotees filling the horizon to its very edge?

However, Victor was now somewhat accepting his role as a god. When he released a small amount of divinity that ordinary people could withstand, they reached out to him with exclamations of awe, and the honor guards who had been on standby at the Sky Warden, having quickly mobilized after seeing the storm of spirits, began sweating as they held back the divinity-entranced zombies.

Clop-clop. Clop-clop.

“Heh, look at this one.”

“Puhihing!”

Bruiser’s hoofbeats were quite noisy. Perhaps the horse was instinctively putting more strength into its steps due to the attention it was receiving. Victor had heard that horses were intelligent animals, but he hadn’t realized they were this vain.

“Your Majesty, are you returning now?”

“Yes. It seems difficult to stay here any longer.”

Was this what it meant to be an administrator? The administrator riding beside him treated him with remarkable detachment, despite the divine aura flowing from him.

Of course, being only human, his knuckles were white from gripping the reins tightly, and he was biting the inside of his cheek—he couldn’t completely resist the divinity, but the fact that he could maintain an outwardly detached attitude was quite remarkable.

Come to think of it, figures of state leadership had all shown this level of resistance, so perhaps it really was true that the position shapes the person.

“It seems so. I will instruct my subordinates to send you local specialties from this city. May you have a safe pilgrimage.”

“I wish you well in your future endeavors.”

With those words, the administrator turned his horse toward the crowd, and the Sun blessed him before continuing on his way.

“Make way! Clear a path for the Sun!”

Hearing the shouts of the honor guards, the Sun returned to his flagship and set course for the 11th continent, Euphemia.

It was time to bid farewell to the Cecilia continent.

*

“Phew… resentment.”

Victor let out a long sigh as he entered the Sky Warden.

Resentment.

Something unavoidable in politics and governance.

No matter how good the governance, there will inevitably be innocent victims. For instance, even if one succeeds in lowering prices, merchants who can no longer sell their goods at higher prices will harbor resentment.

Perhaps one or two villages would be manageable, but governing all 13 immense continents? The population alone would exceed thousands of trillions, and if a proper census were conducted, it might even reach the quadrillions. Is it believable that even this is incomparably less than during humanity’s golden age?

“Damn it, even a god doesn’t have infinite power…”

Victor stared at his trembling hands.

Though he hadn’t shown it, purifying hundreds of billions of vengeful spirits at once had drained him completely. It wasn’t life-threatening—more like mild muscle soreness that would heal cleanly after a few days of rest—barely even qualifying as weakness. But the problem was that those he had to face, govern, and guide numbered far more than “mere” hundreds of billions.

They say a hundred people have a hundred different thoughts. With a population conservatively estimated between 3,300 trillion at minimum and 5,500 trillion at maximum, how could anyone possibly manage such an enormous number?

“Well, I have no choice but to try…”

But there was no turning back now. The Iron Walker party had already completed their pilgrimage of the 10th continent and was heading toward the 11th continent, Euphemia. To stop now would be the worst betrayal of all people in the four-directional world.

Whether he liked it or not, Victor’s life was no longer solely his own.

There’s that saying, isn’t there?

When your brother cries, you tease him; when your friend cries, you comfort them; when your mother cries, you feel sad; but when your father cries, the family is ruined.

The role of the head of the household was so important that this joke couldn’t be dismissed entirely, but Victor, now the Sun and essentially the head of the human family, could no longer laugh at this saying.

His failure would mean the failure of all humanity.

Knock knock!

“My lord. Your meal is here.”

“Ah. Come in.”

Lost in thought, he barely noticed as the duty officer placed meals for two in the captain’s quarters before closing the door again.

Today’s menu, coincidentally, was the flower fritters they had eaten for lunch today.

This must be what they meant by local specialties.

Crunch. Crunch.

Eating without his wife, the taste that had been beautiful before was no longer there.

It felt like eating breaded pork cutlet with fried crumbs on the side. Not that it tasted bad… but it seemed that ordinary cooks couldn’t replicate such delicate techniques. They couldn’t imitate what they had never tasted themselves.

Munch, munch…

“At least this tastes the same.”

“Indeed it does.”

The one consolation was that the honeycomb ice cream served for dessert tasted identical.

Of course, it was just vanilla ice cream topped with honeycomb, so it would be stranger if it tasted different.