READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 43
[It’s been a while since I’ve shown up directly!]
A massive figure emerged from the campfire, larger than anyone in the square.
As it passed through the surrounding tables, the initially formless entity gradually took on a clearer form, transforming into that of a giant warrior.
The light snowfall that had started to fall began to melt away upon contact with the warrior, leaving no trace behind.
All that could be heard by the audience – nobles, priestesses, and offerers alike – was the sound of weapons clashing.
Yet, the voice of someone resonated in their hearts.
Regardless of status or rank, everyone cheered aloud. Nobles, usually preoccupied with maintaining their dignity, couldn’t help but join in when Alfred stood up and applauded with a joyous cry.
Elder Iona, standing on the platform, hurriedly stepped down and bowed humbly, though not too slowly.
[Yes! This is it! A festival must be loud and boisterous!]
“…O Ascendant, I am glad you are pleased.”
A festival dedicated to the gods. A day to celebrate the gods’ deeds.
Under normal circumstances, the chosen sacrifice would have vanished without a trace.
But, as some had cheered earlier, the god had personally descended.
Right here and now.
[Am I a bit late? I intended to come out a bit earlier, but that damned wife insisted on stopping me to speak about something as trivial as the cold.]
“O Ascendant, we can wait as long as needed.”
[No need. After stepping up here, the ceremonies and dignities are bothersome enough.]
“…I am a servant of the Lady of Winter.”
Flustered, Iona shifted the topic. Fortunately for her, the warrior didn’t seem to expect a response.
If only I’d known, I wouldn’t have given in to that damned wife’s temptations, the warrior grumbled, causing the entire square to break into a cold sweat.
After all, the winter goddess whom the great warrior god Tutatis referred to as that damned wife was Skadi.
Especially the husbands in attendance braced themselves, knowing that even a moment of sympathy could lead to dire consequences.
Of course, it wasn’t that they feared the pressure from their wives sitting beside them.
[They told me to come out only after the ceremonies were done. Ah, ah. Lord of Winter, you needn’t come down. The same goes for the lord’s family and guests.]
“But how could a mere mortal stand in a higher seat than a god?”
[If you say that, I was a mere mortal once too. No need to pay it any mind. That kind of ceremony is only for nameless folks and that damned wife.]
Alfred and those sitting in the royal seats awkwardly returned to their positions.
One might think this was disrespectful, but since the actual deity was telling them to sit, what could they do?
Only Karem, who felt stifled by the utterly down-to-earth demeanor of the god, gradually regained his composure.
They say that when confronted with information one cannot accept, the brain essentially short-circuits.
Karem understood that saying perfectly.
Every time some colossal something spoke, the sound of weapons thrummed in his ears, and he naturally comprehended those sounds with his heart.
Yet, to be honest, the things the god said were a little off.
Certainly, that allowed him to snap out of his daze quite quickly.
Still, there just wasn’t that solemnity one might associate with a god.
Listening to what was being said felt less like speaking to a divine being and more like chatting with a rugged warrior.
The audience was sweating bullets, contemplating how charming his demeanor had been before his marriage. Yet, after tying the knot, everything changed. With his newfound satisfaction, the warrior god soon shifted the conversation.
[Usually, I would have just picked one myself, but there are so many satisfactory choices that I’m running into complications. So, I came to have a look myself.]
“Ah, is that so? Then to the priestesses…”
[Ahhhh, no need.]
“Yes?”
[I’ll pick it myself as I stroll around. That okay?]
Surveying the square, Tutatis nodded approvingly as the people cheered and then walked over to the campfire’s table, starting to inspect the offerings one by one.
Karem could only think how this was all so surreal.
While there were countless people who believed in gods from previous lives, Karem himself had been an atheist in this life.
To clarify, he believed in the existence of gods. Just didn’t worship them.
After all, this world was filled with absurdities beyond imagination, so it was honestly harder to believe that there weren’t any gods at all.
However, he’d never seen one for himself, so he couldn’t be absolutely sure.
But here, it was different.
Here lay beasts and monsters that shouldn’t exist by the standards of one’s past life.
People faced threats and hunted while those who sought magic worshiped and lent their strength to the gods.
And now, Karem was finally able to see a god.
[Wow, look at those weapons. Honestly, it’s tough to pick just one best among them.]
“All these offerings belong to you.”
[However, for the sake of the festival, I should pick just one.]
The way he examined each offering while pondering was a sight that felt all too familiar to Karem.
Like an excited gentleman in a game shop or model shop, losing himself while browsing around. Or perhaps a lady going window shopping at a department store.
As Karem slowly built an undeniable sense of camaraderie, the shopping spree of the warrior god at the festival continued on.
At first, the crowd that had cheered was filled with curiosity about what offering the god would select, now nervously excitedly watching.
While the spectators were merely observing, the offerers themselves trembled with a mix of joy, horror, anxiety, and anticipation.
And Karem felt… extremely at ease.
‘Of course, the warrior god will choose a weapon.’
Just as he thought, Tutatis admired various sizes and types of offerings.
He showed particular interest in Zigmeser’s pudding and Karem’s forge but ultimately displayed a deeper fascination with the weapons.
Zigmeser felt the same as Karem.
‘Who would’ve thought he’d come down in person? Truly, this is overwhelming. But as long as I’ve achieved my goal, nothing else matters.’
Karem was just glad he didn’t incur any divine punishment.
Zigmeser felt satisfied having diverted Alicia’s attention for now.
However, the other offerers all hoped their own sacrifices would be the chosen one.
As Tutatis surveyed the offerings, he seemed to have reached a conclusion, stopping in his tracks and extending his hand.
He grasped a large, double-headed axe with a flawless body and a wide, crescent blade, covered in unknown inscriptions.
Indeed, it was a weapon no mortal could swing with one hand.
Yet, in Tutatis’s enormous grip, it appeared no larger than a hand axe.
[Yes, this is an excellent axe. I’ve seen few things this magnificent both during my life and after my ascension.]
“Are you pleased with the axe?”
[It’s not just the supreme materials and performance that impresses me, but the effort and care it took for someone to pour their entire life and experience into forging it.]
Tutatis then glanced at an unusually dark-skinned old man among the offerers. It was as if he recognized the creator without needing words.
Those who were previously consumed by jealousy now had no choice but to change their expressions to awe upon seeing the old man.
The smith’s skin was tanned a deep brown, like a gnarled old tree, scarred and weathered from years of toil.
His hands bore calluses that looked like stones, and his entire appearance was a testament to his dedication as a craftsman.
Caught up in the offerings, the onlookers had initially overlooked him, but now, all of them felt a deep respect for the master who had reached the pinnacle of his craft, regardless of race.
Tutatis shouted.
[Old man! State your name!]
“M-My humble name is Gopain.”
[Humble? Nonsense. There’s no need for such words. You should take pride in your life’s work. For I shall remember your name.]
The warrior god lightly slung the axe over his shoulder and declared.
Gopain, the blacksmith, bowed deeply, his face reflecting utter awe.
To have his name remembered by a god—this was the highest honor a craftsman could aspire to.
[And the others who prepared offerings shouldn’t be too disappointed. In my view, all the offerings were splendid. It’s just that this Gopain’s axe stood out remarkably.]
“O Warrior God, thank you!”
Feeling recognized by the divine, the old man collapsed to the ground as if all his strength had left him, weeping uncontrollably.
Being acknowledged by a god?
Even gaining recognition from a mere earthly tournament could lead to tears of joy. To be commended directly by a god was something beyond comprehension.
Karem could hardly fathom just how overwhelming that experience must be.
Yet this was undeniable reality.
Something that once resided in myths and legends was unfolding before his very eyes.
“Phew,”
Karem let out a small sigh of relief.
In the end, no divine wrath had rained down upon him for a lack of sincerity.
That meant he must be at least decent enough in skill.
He knew very well that Catherine had half-jokingly implied otherwise.
But conversely, that meant the other half held some truth.
Karem had learned of real individuals who had faced divine punishment for offering insufficient sacrifices.
With magic in this world, so too existed divine retribution.
From that moment, Karem’s once-crushed heart began to settle, allowing him to breathe freely again.
[Hmm. The balance, the shape. Functional embellishments—everything is truly remarkable. Ah, right.]
As he lightly swung the axe, Tutatis reached over to the tables surrounding the campfire, snapping his fingers.
The offerings on the table ignited in flames all at once.
[Well then, I am aaaaamong. Hm?]
As he turned back towards the roaring campfire, Tutatis suddenly paused, tilting his head.
The sudden approach of a god made everyone at the royal seats panic.
Especially Godwin, who nearly dropped dead from shock.
In a brief moment that felt like an eternity, the warrior god had suddenly closed the distance, so naturally he would react that way.
Yet somehow, Godwin managed to squeeze out a voice to respond to the god’s question.
[Is this yours?]
“Y-Yes, O God! If you wish, I grant you the pleasure of taking it.”
[Well, I feel a bit sorry since you’re being this honest.]
Regardless, as it was said to be fine, Tutatis opened a large bowl placed to the right of Godwin and tasted the mayonnaise with his finger before turning to Karem.
Suddenly locking eyes with the god, Karem froze in shock.
But Tutatis raised an eyebrow, appearing quite intrigued.
[Looks like there’s a unique little brat here.]
Then, he stepped into the campfire, still holding the bowl of mayonnaise.
As the divine presence vanished, the campfire extinguished despite the logs still being plentiful, emitting smoke.
“For Tutatis!!!”
“Oh my gosh! I never thought I’d witness a warrior god with my own eyes!”
“Oh, dear! I can now die without regrets!”
The crowd erupted in cheers.
This was no mere rumor; it had been centuries since the warrior god had made an appearance in Wintersend.
When the populace began to cheer out of sheer exhilaration over that monumental fact, several with seats at the royal table looked on, wide-eyed.
Specifically, among those who had seen the god from their seats.
More specifically, those who knew who had made the mayonnaise, especially Godwin, Katherine, and Mary, lowered their heads beneath the royal seats.
‘Hmm, this increased gazes feel a bit unsettling.’
At the end of those gazes stood the utterly flustered Karem.