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[Translator - Tangrine ]
[Proofreader - Seeker ]
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Chapter - 20: Deus Vult
"But... isn’t the Hero of Justice a servant of the God of Justice?"
"That’s right."
"Then couldn’t we just do what we’ve always done—forge another revelation? The Pantheon also already agreed to turn a blind eye to this mission. Controlling the hero should be no trouble."
"Ah... I see how you'd think that."
"Excuse me?"
In this world of Endless, the gods aren’t nearly as useful as one might expect.
To be blunt, they’re almost pitifully incompetent.
"Kana. Do you remember why the Priestess of the Libra can see the future?"
"Yes. She gouged out her own eyes, and in exchange, she was granted a glimpse of the future."
"Exactly. That is the power of the Libra—the ability to restore balance."
"Hmm..."
"In other words, the ability to see the future or read hearts isn’t the power of the Libra itself.
That burden was placed on the priestess, not the divine artifact."
"Ah..."
The only reason the Libra ever drew close to discovering my secrets was because I impersonated the Libra in the first place.
It’s not as though they can observe the entire world.
The gods in this world are neither omnipotent nor omniscient.
In fact, most are less competent than the very followers they empower.
"Those fools can’t do a damn thing on their own."
A god does not place itself upon the scale. A god does not enforce justice. A god does not extend mercy.
It is humanity’s role to receive divine commandments.
Therefore, the gods themselves are of no use. They are merely perverts who observe the priestesses and heroes they have chosen.
"And the same goes for divine revelations. If revelations and precepts conflict, the hero prioritizes the precepts he has received. A hero may serve their god, but they are not its slave. They don’t blindly obey."
A hero respects their deity, but that doesn’t mean obedience without question.
If a revelation clashes with the principles the god once bestowed, the hero will choose principle over command.
You can’t order a true hero to ignore evil.
Obedience is the virtue of a dog, not of a human being.
And so the hero was truly a righteous being.
They commit all sorts of troubles because of their sense of justice, but at least they do not make excuses like 'God wants it (Deus Vult)'.
"...I always thought gods were something far more formidable."
"The gods of the Pantheon are beings bound to 'Order.' No matter how great their power, they cannot act outside of it."
The gods of this world, who descended in person and shattered a planet.
Perhaps even these rigid commandments are part of the gods’ way of preserving this fragile world.
The world of Endless is simply too delicate.
“That’s why we have to go through all this trouble.”
“Should we cut back on the offerings we send to the Pantheon? All that gold feels like a waste.”
“Leave it. It’s not like it’s money we could use anyway.”
“If it’s useless, could I freely spend some of it?”
“Do you think that’s gonna happen?”
“…Well, worth a shot.”
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The world’s malice toward Zara was becoming more relentless.
Once Zara began to resist, those who had been tormenting her started becoming even more absurd in their attacks.
“I only asked for the coins I was promised.”
“You threatened me! That damn vagrant was banging on my door all night—I couldn’t sleep!
And the cleaning job was a disaster—the smoke won’t even vent properly anymore. After doing such a half-assed job, you expect full pay? Are you mad?!”
The bald man howled in rage, his face twisted with loathing as he hurled his fury at Zara.
Around them, guards stood at the ready with spears and swords.
The bald man had summoned the guards, claiming Zara had threatened him.
“I just asked for the pay I was owed. And banging on your door all night? That’s a lie. I cleaned it properly.”
“You damn brat—!”
Smack!
The bald man couldn’t hold back his anger and swung his hand at Zara’s cheek.
Her cheek stung, but Zara just grinned widely and defiantly.
Compared to getting hit by a carriage or falling off a bridge… some slap from an old bald man wasn’t even worth flinching over.
“How pathetic.”
“What…?”
Zara was no longer the good girl who kept her mouth shut even when she was wronged.
She could say what needed to be said—maybe even a bit more.
She had become a fucking lion.
“What kind of dogshit bastard goes around hitting people like that? If you’re bald, shouldn’t you at least have some dignity? Wait, maybe you’re bald because you’ve got none? Huhuhuhu.”
“You little bitch—!”
The man began to beat her, fists and boots flying.
The guards didn’t protect her.
On the contrary, they looked on with amusement.
Passersby pointed and muttered.
“Tch. That’s what happens when you get greedy.”
“She conned twenty coins out of me the other day. Seeing her get beaten like that? Damn satisfying.”
“What’s wrong with being bald anyway…”
One-sided violence. The crowd’s indifference.
The shame of being pointed at.
A truly wretched misfortune.
However, Zara laughed and provoked the man instead.
“Heehee. Didn’t even hurt. Guess you’re just too old and weak.”
The man's eyes rolled with rage as he seized a sword from one of the guards.
To be precise, it was more like the guard handed it to him.
Considering the difference in strength between the man and the guard, it would’ve been impossible to take the weapon by force unless the guard allowed it.
There wasn’t a single person in this city on Zara’s side.
“Die—!”
The man swung his sword at Zara.
Just as Zara tried to dodge.
Clang!
The sharp clash of metal against metal rang out, and the sword the man had been holding clattered to the ground.
“Aaargh!”
The shock of the blow had torn his hand open, and he howled in pain.
Standing between them was a woman.
“What a foul-smelling city this is. The stench of innocence being trampled. Of the weak being crushed by the strong. The pure being insulted by the wretched… disgusting.”
The woman looked down at Zara, clad in gleaming white armor that obscured the shape of her body.
In her hand was a sword—the very sword that had knocked the man’s blade away.
From the woman came the scent of sunflowers.
A golden fragrance out of season—she looked like someone who stood alone beneath the sun, radiant and unwavering.
“I smell dandelions. You're a kind child.”
“Huh?”
“A flower trampled underfoot grows stronger than any other. I think you’ll become a truly good person… almost makes me jealous.”
“Hehe, thank you.”
But there was a flicker of something unpleasant in the woman’s eyes.
It was a gaze Zara had come to know too well.
That sticky, unprovoked hatred. That gaze full of contempt.
That oppressive sense of being loathed without reason, as though the world itself were dumping its entire wrath on her shoulders.
It was only natural that even this woman looked at her that way.
But she didn’t strike Zara.
She didn’t let that discomfort turn to violence.
“Ah, I see now. These disgusting people… they’re jealous of you.”
Instead, she gently stroked Zara’s hair and nodded.
“If I feel this jealous of your spirit and goodness, I can only imagine the hardships you’ve had to endure. But letting emotion turn to violence? That would make us no better than beasts. Now I think I understand what I must do in this foul city.”
As she finished speaking, her gaze turned to the bald man, still clutching his bleeding hand and trembling.
Raising her sword, she pointed it at him.
The guards moved to intervene, but with just one graceful step, the woman slipped past them like a phantom.
“O wicked bald one—by ancient law, know who it is that judges your sin.”
The law of the one who punishes evil beneath the sun.
A declaration that even on the edge of killing, she bore her name with honor.
The woman’s name echoed through the city.
“The one chosen by the God of Justice—the hero known as Nasira Dandelion!”
Nasira Dandelion, Hero of Justice.
She raised her sword and swung it at the bald man.
The man flinched, tightly shutting his eyes and trembling.
Clang!
Once again, the sharp ring of metal striking metal rang out.
“…Why are you protecting this man?”
“Hehe…”
The sword had failed to fulfill its purpose again. It was Zara who blocked it.
She held a fallen guard’s sword, hands slightly shaking, and opened her mouth with a trembling voice.
“Because… he still hasn’t apologized to me yet!”
“You’re protecting the man who just tried to kill you… for that reason?”
“I haven’t even been paid the wages he owes me.”
“You could still take that after he’s dead.”
“But more than that… I want him to feel ashamed. I want him to regret what he’s done to me.”
“…So, you want him to live and suffer?”
“No! I mean… if he truly repents, then… I want to forgive him.”
“…You’re afraid of being hated, aren’t you?”
“I want to tell the world to go fuck itself.”
Zara looked up into the air.
The hallucination that only she could see smiled faintly.
“I don’t believe anyone can become so evil that they can never turn back. What matters is being honest with yourself in this very moment!”
“…If you stand in my way, I will strike you down.”
“Hehe. Go ahead and try. But… you kinda look weak, ma'am!"
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[Translator - Tangrine ]
[Proofreader - Seeker ]
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