By Zephyria 
They could have fought where we couldn’t see, but the gods didn’t arrange a separate space. Who would leave their seats just because a butterfly could hear? Gano Paquin and Spiritus, without a care for us, pointed fingers and raised their voices.
“How could you do that? Do you know what happened to me?” The argument that started like this lasted longer than expected. As curses and shouts flew back and forth, I only grew more unsettled, wondering if we were even supposed to hear these words.
Even amidst the chaos, my gaze kept being drawn to their overwhelming and weighty presence, far more so than any other god I had met before. Even in polymorphed form, a god was still a god. Every time Spiritus’s sharp voice rang out, his beast-like eyes flashed.
I want to fight them.
That desire swelled within me. The other gods I had met acted more like spirits or fairies than martial artists of the mortal realm, but I felt a solid grounding from this monster I was now facing. The sword hanging at her waist kept catching my eye.
Gano Paquin retorted without a hint of intimidation.
“Otherwise. How can you know when he’ll flip out again? What black magician has ever roamed the Magic Territory? Who has been allowed to rip souls in and out before dying?”
“Why make such a fuss over something like that? When monsters grow large, don’t we send them up to the Magic Territory? Can’t humans do the same when they grow?”
“That’s precisely why they’re causing trouble! Is it even reasonable for someone not even at 4th Circle to be wandering the Magic Territory? You’re no better. How could you give away so many monsters without even checking what he was planning to do? What if he had swept the continent with them!”
Gano Paquin, who looked like a frail scholar, struck the round table with his thin arm. Each time he did, Spiritus’s voice grew weaker.
“Then what, we just coexist. Because he’s been whining for over a thousand years, obsessed with humans, I let the Ninth have monsters to play with. So what if a few humans die? What’s the big deal…”
“What? What did you say when I first told you I was making monsters!”
“That was during the Genesis. Why are you still bringing that up?”
“What did you say!”
“…”
Gano Paquin is the winner of this argument. I sat there blankly, unable to interject, when Gano Paquin, still huffing, explained in a slightly unhinged voice. His gaze remained fixed on Spiritus, but he was speaking for us to hear.
“To put it simply, those monsters were like livestock. Peter remembered eating orcs alive when he was a hatchling in another world… He asked if he could make some to eat as snacks occasionally.”
“Why would you bring that up?”
“It’s better than you being known for mistreating your vassals.”
I realized that Gano Paquin must be the reason why people on this continent so highly valued information sharing.
Spiritus, the Sixth God and Gold Dragon, was the god of dreams and jewels, and also the creator of all monsters. It was said that many monsters roaming near the Yuil Mountains were born from his desires.
However, while the God of Records considered humans his descendants and cherished them, dragons, from the beginning, viewed monsters as food and treated them roughly.
The monsters were created with the mindset of releasing earthworms into a garden. It was all part of the plan to cultivate their own ecosystem, tend to them like a garden, and occasionally cull the overgrown ones to release them beyond the Magic Territory.
Then, the monsters were meant to absorb the murky mana of the Magic Territory and, when needed, offer their mana and bodies to Spiritus. In other words, they were treated like livestock.
“…Yes, I did say that. Wouldn’t it be easier and cleaner to have separate monsters to swallow the overflowing mana, rather than watching humans destroy each other and lose records? But now, there are ten times more humans than back then, Gano. Humanity isn’t going to perish even if you don’t coddle them so much.”
“That bastard sealed me and invaded my territory! Now the Divine Revelation doesn’t even work for the children of my land!”
“Yes, he sealed you, I suppose. But we did that too. Has it been over three hundred years since he was unsealed?”
“…”
“To be honest, I had no intention of getting involved in your fight. As I said before, he was just obsessed with humans, so I gave him a piece of my territory to play with monsters and heal. That’s all.”
As if they had never raised their voices, Spiritus began to reason with Gano Paquin.
“He hasn’t succeeded in reopening another dimension, and it’s rather embarrassing that he’s relying on the help of children… And most importantly.”
“…Wait, Peter.”
“That thing isn’t human anymore. What are you really trying to do, Gano?”
Spiritus gestured towards me with his chin, and all eyes turned to me.
Gano Paquin fell silent. While his gaze remained fixed on Spiritus, I thought he might use Sound Transmission. Before the dragon’s gaze left me, I voiced the question that had been burning within me.
“How am I different?”
Gano Paquin grabbed the dragon’s wrist, as if to tell him not to answer, but Spiritus didn’t hesitate and replied directly to my question.
“You ask because you don’t know? It’s a soul not born of this land, and it’s already swallowed nearly half of the Ninth’s energy. At this rate, it could be considered a demigod, yet it pretends to be human.”
“Peter!”
“If I…”
I deliberately avoided looking at Gano Paquin. Sweat beaded on my hand resting on the round table.
“…If I shatter and consume the divine source of the Ninth God, will I become a god?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
A dreadful silence descended upon the round table.
Only after hearing the two gods’ conflicting answers did I slowly turn back to Gano Paquin. He was frowning deeply, gritting his teeth as if greatly disappointed, and his gaze was still fixed on me. He still had those clear, grass-colored eyes, as if ready to speak the truth at any moment.
Looking at his face, I thought of Ruben again.
He told me not to eat just anything. Did the child know this? No, if he had known, he would have explained it to me patiently in simpler terms. No matter how talented Ruben was, how could he have read the gods’ intentions at that point?
Spiritus continued, smoothing his coiled hair with a flick of his hand.
“The fact that I retain memories from my hatchling days means I came to this continent with a fully formed consciousness and became a god here. On this world, gods are ‘created’ in a complete state, except for one. They are not ‘born’.”
“…”
“That’s how gods are. When an unbreakable soul contains mana powerful enough to create a world, it becomes a god. Nevertheless, there’s a reason no one has ever thought of artificially creating a god. Without something to rely on, they go mad. Look at what the Ninth is doing now.”
To create a god. To become a god.
I never wanted such a thing.
“A god born incomplete might dislike humans. They might overturn everything because it’s different from what they created, and they might even want to destroy a continent. But no matter how much they struggle, will it all become as if it never happened? No. The sky and earth, the sun and moon created before they were born will remain. Those who have already abandoned their source cannot be revived, but we will remain. Once everything melts away, we can rest for about a thousand years and create anew.”
“…”
“And you want to create a new god who likes humans because you dislike that? Is that possible? You are excessively ‘human,’ Gano Paquin. If you become a god, you should know how to live like one. The First and you at least have your creations, but that one was made late and must endure eternity without its own creations.”
She stated it with certainty.
“He cannot handle that position. It’s not something a mere human can endure.”
My fingertips tingled. My lips trembled. It took a moment to form a steady voice.
“…Is that true?”
“No.”
Gano Paquin, who had remained silent throughout Spiritus’s rant, shook his head once. I wondered how much I could trust the words coming from his mouth, but I decided to listen and remained quiet.
“I am certain that consuming the Ninth’s source will blur the bond of your soul.”
“Don’t say absurd things, Gano.”
“Why is it absurd? Twenty dragons have died so far, Peter. Think about how your intended kin died. How different are they from him? Just living longer and being healthier? A Grand Sword Master is usually about that much.”
“That’s…”
“Don’t exaggerate. Mikael will not live forever. If you can create a crack in that solid soul, he will enter the continent’s mana circulation circle. I intend to use the Ninth’s source to break soul with soul, like breaking stone with stone.”
Hearing it this way, it sounded plausible again. I didn’t know what to say in response and was speechless.
I sat quietly at the round table, trying to suppress my turbulent emotions. I had never gambled in my past life, yet here I was, about to stake my life. To become a god, or remain human.
Just then, Benjamin, who had been quiet, raised his hand to shoulder height.
Before I could even organize my thoughts, I looked at the child. The gazes of both gods also turned to Benjamin. The child, who had been shining with the joy of meeting a dragon for the first time, spoke his first syllable with a choked voice, but soon found his proper tone.
“Um, well. I heard that Mikael isn’t the only soul that crossed over to this land.”
“…Is that so?”
“Does that mean they also have the potential to become demigods or gods?”
“What? No, that’s not it. Even if the conditions are similar, they are the Ninth’s vassals. What benefit would they gain from killing the Ninth?”
No. Those guys wouldn’t care about that.
But before I could say anything, Hugh Benson grabbed Elvin’s shoulder.
“What Oasis said last March was…”
This was the first time I had heard Elvin’s breath come out so tremulously. Hugh’s voice, trembling like a rustling breeze, sounded like a melodic whistle.
“‘Bai-Sak.’ That was the only word. Do you truly not know where he is?”