Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

Among the gods, most hold their positions indefinitely, their divine mantles unchanging through eternity. The God of War, however, seems to be an exception—his position is more of a revolving door.

The reason is straightforward. As the deity who governs war and victory, his very nature compels him to provoke conflicts and revel in the chaos of battle. It's not just a job for him; it's a pastime, a source of power, and, at times, sheer entertainment.

But this unrestrained enthusiasm for war often leads to dire consequences. Each generation of the God of War becomes a fanatic, driven mad by the power they wield. This doesn't sit well with the other gods—he's a walking disaster, offending too many divine entities to count.

Inevitably, the God of War meets an untimely end every few thousand years, either through divine intervention or the fallout of his own recklessness. Yet, the position never remains vacant for long. A new God of War always rises to take his place.

By Rhodes' estimate, there had been at least three distinct Gods of War in recorded history. In reality, there were likely far more.

"I wonder which generation of God of War we're dealing with now," Rhodes mused to himself.

---

"I am a believer of the God of Magic."

Rhodes said it casually, almost absentmindedly, while observing the believers in front of him. What intrigued him more was the realization that the gods of this era were actively spreading their faith among humans.

On second thought, it made sense. Goodfolk, elves, and trolls all had their respective patron deities. For example, the majority of goodfolk worshipped the Beast God, with only a few branching out to other gods, depending on their profession. Elves, too, were largely united under the Elf God, while trolls worshipped an assortment of giant ancestors in a manner closer to ancestral veneration than genuine faith.

For races like orcs and elves, deeply entrenched in their respective faiths, spreading belief among them was an uphill battle. Humans, on the other hand, were largely unaligned—an open field for the gods to cultivate.

It wasn't surprising that deities like the God of War had started focusing on humans. Scattered and weak, humans lacked a unifying god, leaving them vulnerable to extinction in the face of powerful races like orcs and elves.

The gods saw investing in humanity as a gamble. If humans survived and showed potential, they could become a valuable source of faith. If they perished, the gods who had invested their energies would suffer losses as well. No god wanted to risk making enemies of powerful divine factions like the Beast God or the Elf God.

But if humanity could demonstrate strength and resilience—enough to compete with the orcs and elves—then the tide could shift. That would mark the beginning of humanity's rise.

However, Rhodes knew this process would be painstakingly slow.

---

"God of Magic? Is there such a god?"

The believers of the God of War looked at Rhodes with puzzled expressions.

They shrugged it off quickly. The divine pantheon was vast, with countless minor deities that most wouldn't recognize. They assumed the God of Magic was likely a weak and obscure god, unworthy of much attention.

"This forest is dangerous. What are you doing here?" Rhodes asked, his curiosity piqued.

"We're here to hunt monsters and please the God of War," one of them answered matter-of-factly.

Their god demanded blood and battle as offerings. Fighting wasn't just a ritual; it was their pathway to divine blessings.

This was the allure of the God of War. Unlike other gods, who might grant minor miracles or esoteric spells in exchange for prayer, the God of War offered raw, tangible power in return for violence.

---

"Killing to please the gods?"

Rhodes frowned. Suddenly, the high mortality rate of the God of War made perfect sense. Encouraging endless cycles of bloodshed wasn't just reckless—it was a direct path to offending every other god whose followers were caught in the crossfire.

Still, the believers were undeterred. Despite Rhodes' warnings about the forest's dangers, they marched in without hesitation.

The forest had been corrupted by the Mother of Evil, turning the creatures within into violent and powerful monstrosities. Rhodes shook his head, knowing these believers would learn their lesson the hard way.

---

Leaving the forest behind, Rhodes soon arrived at a small village.

The place bustled with activity. Adventurers—believers of various gods—filled the streets, all dressed in combat-ready attire.

However, Rhodes couldn't help but notice how weak they were. The strongest among them could barely handle high-level monsters, let alone a legendary creature.

"The disparity is staggering," Rhodes muttered, clicking his tongue.

In his time, hundreds of thousands of years in the future, even a mere cardinal of the Church of Spirits would be a legendary figure. The popes were practically demigods. Compared to that, these humans seemed woefully underdeveloped, like younger siblings living in the shadow of their elders.

---

At the village center stood an Adventurer's Guild, surrounded by smaller guilds aligned with different gods. Believers of the same deity naturally grouped together, forming alliances based on shared faith.

To Rhodes, this fragmented structure looked like the early prototype of what would later become the great churches of the gods.

Back then, these "churches" were little more than loose associations of weak humans united by faith. Their rules were haphazard, their systems unrefined. But over time, as humanity grew stronger, these organizations would evolve into structured, hierarchical institutions, driven by ambition and the thirst for power.

For now, though, there was no political intrigue or power struggles among the churches. Believers of different gods cooperated harmoniously, hunting monsters and sharing the spoils fairly.

Monster parts—organs, bones, and even their blood—were incredibly valuable, whether for crafting potions or enhancing physical and magical strength.

This mutual need for resources had brought them together, forging an unlikely camaraderie in the face of danger.

But Rhodes knew this idyllic unity wouldn't last forever.

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