How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World-Chapter 445: Gray desert (3)

The gods of this world cannot lie.

The gods of this world, for some reason, are incapable of lying.

Whether it's because they are truly unable to or simply choose not to, they never speak falsehoods.

Instead, they often speak in circles or invoke their right to remain silent—just like now.

Because they cannot lie, they often choose to say nothing at all.

However, they are surprisingly tolerant of their beloved creations who tell lies.

After all, lying in front of them is meaningless—nothing gets past them.

And as the phrase "white lies" suggests, punishing someone for such things would be excessive.

That said, serious crimes like murder are met with harsh punishments.

If someone were to commit murder inside a temple, divine retribution would strike before anyone else could even intervene.

This must be why they refused to reveal the prophecy given to the Savior. It was a little disappointing, but understandable.

"Is this a prophecy I'm not supposed to know?"

(Yes. It’s an issue that could shake the axis of the future—at least from our perspective, it's extremely important...)

"Our perspective?"

I cut off their words.

It was a rude thing to do, especially in front of a god, but I couldn't help feeling suspicious.

Realizing their slip of the tongue, Luminous quickly spoke.

(*You must remember your position. Your words alone influence the entire world.

If you tamper with the prophecy, it could cause problems not only for us, but for you as well.*)

"Are you saying it could be seen as a challenge to the authority of the gods?"

(Precisely.)

That, I could understand.

Honestly, I had only asked out of curiosity, so I wasn't deeply invested in the answer.

But thinking about it logically, it was a careless question—one that could be seen as a direct challenge to divine authority, something that could warrant heavenly punishment.

To me, it was no different than asking for advice from a respected elder.

But after reflecting, I realized how close I had come to committing a grave offense.

"...That was thoughtless of me. Forgive me, Luminous. I got too comfortable and overstepped..."

(Don't worry, child. We're not so narrow-minded as to strangle a goose just because it bit our finger.)

As always, the gods—even the lesser ones—had an extraordinary talent for metaphor. With just one sentence, I immediately understood how they viewed me.

The word "cute" had been used, meaning they saw me as a favorite.

But at the same time, it made me acutely aware of the vast gap between mortals and the divine.

No matter how much noise I made, I was still just a goose in their eyes.

"At least you're kind," I muttered.

Looking at mythology from my past life, it was clear that many gods had deeply flawed personalities.

Greek and Roman mythology in particular were filled with gods who were capricious or cruel.

Zeus, famous for his affairs and arrogance, was the worst offender, but even those known for their kindness had no qualms about punishing humans who crossed the line.

Even Athena, considered one of the more reasonable goddesses, mercilessly punished Arachne for her defiance.

The gods of mythology, in a way, were very human—full of emotions, with personalities as diverse as any mortal.

(...Child. We're not as kind as you think.)

Luminous's voice, very calm, interrupted my thoughts.

Although his words only echoed in my mind, I had a strange feeling that he wore a bitter smile.

Perhaps my thoughts had pierced his conscience. After all, didn’t Clark warn me not to trust the gods?

Not because they were evil, but because they were, at their core, very human.

"But your love for humanity is real, isn't it?"

(It is. That truth hasn’t changed, even after thousands of years.)

The gods cannot lie, so I knew those words were absolute truth.

That's when I decided to ask a sharp question.

"Then, if one day humanity declares that they no longer need the gods, what would you do?"

It was a blunt question, but it was something I truly wanted to know.

Even in the myths of my past life, there were many humans who defied the gods.

And although they were all punished, I wondered—could the same happen here?

After all, there were already demon worshippers in this world.

Yet, for some unknown reason, the gods seemed unable to eliminate them directly.

Unless another great disaster like the Demon War arose, the gods rarely took direct action.

But my question wasn't about challenging divine authority—it was about their "help."

Could this world progress like mine did, where humans built their own civilization, apart from divine intervention?

A world where religion is just a cultural relic, and the gods' existence is uncertain?

I wanted to know: if humans in this world wished for such a future, how would the gods respond?

(...)

Luminous stayed silent for a long time.

I knew he had sealed his lips and chosen to say nothing.

But I waited patiently.

This was a question not only Luminous but all gods had to seriously ponder.

Since the Demon War, this world had grown rapidly under divine protection. But at the same time, that protection stunted growth.

Every time danger arose, people prayed to the gods instead of finding ways to overcome it themselves.

That’s what I wanted to understand.

The more science advances, the weaker religion tends to become.

But for science to progress, old ways of thinking must be broken down.

And in this world, the greatest obstacle to that progress is the gods themselves.

If—just if—mortals ever asked the gods to step aside, would Luminous and the others respect that request?

(...Child.)

"Yes, Luminous?"

(Do you believe that for humanity to truly advance, we must disappear?)

Luminous's voice was calm, yet tinged with anxiety and sadness.

There was no hostility—only uncertainty.

I took a moment to consider my answer.

On Earth, humanity progressed without the help of gods.

In the process, countless wars occurred, millions perished, and the world itself began to suffer from man-made destruction.

"Luminous..."

"Speak."

"Luminous and the gods are like parents. They give love to their children and firmly discipline them when they err, just like any parent. But parents are not perfect."

In truth, Luminous and the gods showed strong parental traits.

Mora protected persecuted demons and dark elves in secret, while Luminous granted great power to humans who believed in him.

Yet that power grew too strong, leading the Savior to wage such a frenzied war that concern spread across the world.

If Luminous hadn’t stepped in to stop him, the world likely would’ve fallen into another great war.

**"Parents also make mistakes. What they believe is best for their children may have unintended harmful effects.

Sometimes, in the name of discipline, they may even inflict excessive punishment. Such actions can never be considered wholly right."**

A common parental mistake is acting under the belief that they're doing what's best for their child.

Many parents fail to recognize their own errors and subject their children to cruel treatment.

You don’t have to look far—Count Letish nearly drove his daughter, Cherry, to suicide just because he believed his way was right.

The reason situations like that arise is simple: being a parent is a first-time experience for them too, and children have minds and perspectives of their own.

**"We might criticize their actions, but we shouldn’t scorn their intentions. No matter how flawed, parents strive to do what they believe is best for their children.

Should that love be something to ridicule? I don’t think so. It’s merely a difference in approach."**

(A difference in approach...)

**"A child is always a child under their parents' care. But once they leave that protection, they become an adult and venture into the world.

Only then do they realize why their parents protected them... and how much responsibility comes with their own choices."**

On Earth, humanity eventually reached the point where species-wide self-destruction became possible.

They even went so far as to destroy their own home.

Had the gods of Earth intervened, progress might have slowed, but at least they wouldn’t have destroyed their planet.

There’s no definite answer as to what’s right in this case.

It’s simply a difference in approach, each with its own consequences.

"A bird is safest in its cage, but it was never born to die there. Even if given the right to choose, that choice shouldn’t be made lightly."

(Your words make me think deeply. The world we protect is the safest there is, but that also means there’s no room to spread one's wings.)

"Exactly. But please take this only as advice. Even though I come from a world where gods didn’t intervene, I’m quite content with this world."

That wasn’t a lie—it was the truth.

I'm not a revolutionary or an ideologue willing to throw myself into some cause.

I’m just an ordinary citizen, happy to write books, enjoy good food, and savor life’s pleasures.

I had no plans to publish a book criticizing the gods, so offering advice shouldn’t be dangerous.

More importantly... as science progresses, creations naturally drift further from their creators. It’s an unfortunate but inevitable phenomenon.

(*Thank you. Honestly, I was a little worried. You’re a soul from another dimension, untouched by the influence of beings like us.

Even if you like your life here, I feared you might harbor dissatisfaction with this world.*)

**"Hmm... now that I think about it, has no one ever had such a belief? That Luminous and the others are actually holding back progress...?

I mean, simply put, has there never been anyone with such thoughts?"**

This was somewhat like, yet different from, atheism in my past life.

In that world, the existence of gods was uncertain; here, their existence is undeniable.

My earlier words had brushed up against this idea, but I wanted to know if anyone had openly spread such beliefs.

Luminous’s answer was enough to render me speechless.

(They’re quite prominent among the demon worshippers.)

(Well, even outside of them, such people do exist. I just... struck them down in anger...)

Sensing my reaction, Luminous quickly added an explanation.

I still remembered that incident. A madman once denied the existence of gods and was struck by lightning from a clear sky.

That moment alone made Luminous feel very much like the gods of Greek and Roman myth—very human.

Well, at least now, those who deny the gods are no longer struck down. That was a relief, I suppose.

Instead, the church personally "invites" them for a "hearing."

"...Luminous?"

(Speak.)

"You’ll be kind to me, right?"

(Of course. We will never abandon you. That is a promise, from the bottom of my heart.)

Hearing him say that so sincerely, I felt I had to let go of my doubts. He had already been kind—I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

After a few more exchanges, I headed straight to Mora’s temple.

Before visiting the Musk publishing house, I needed to recall the lyrics of the last song I wanted to include.

(Hey, why don’t you use a different song with the same name?)

"You mean the one from the movie?"

(I’m not sure, but from looking at your memories, that one seems like a better choice.)

"Are you speaking from foresight, or just personal taste?"

(Obviously personal taste!)

"……"

I wondered if Mora even understood the concept of lying. The more I talked to her, the more exhausted I felt.

In the end, after much back-and-forth, we decided to include both songs.

Honestly, given Jin and Lily’s relationship, the song Loveholic was more appropriate.

"Translating is exhausting..."

(I’m cheering for you! Do your best!)

"……"

Luminous must have a hard time dealing with her.

(What is it?)

"Goodbye!"

I had to focus on the translation.

★★★

A few days later…

“F-Found it! The ruins! The ruins are here!”

“Where? Where? It’s real! This isn’t some damned mirage!”

“Set up camp! We’ll rest here for now!”

The Gray Desert expedition team finally arrived at the ruins of the Kingdom of Gerios, a site they referred to as the “western edge.”