Chapter 114

“At any rate, a curse it is.”

I muttered lowly.

“That foolish one dared to thrust forward his nation’s power and the authority of royalty to defile the Goddess of Life and her Temple of Life…”

I smiled faintly and continued my words.

“With nothing but the strength of his country and the power of royalty, this brute deserves a harsh dose of reality by having everything he clutches stripped away. It’s the simplest way.”

Of course, I admit I might’ve gone a bit overboard.

Because of one fool’s mistake, an entire nation’s populace suffers—what a hasteful decision indeed.

But as the Goddess of Life, I cannot voice such things.

For those who dare insult the gods must be struck down with great punishment.

The best way to maintain divine dignity is to ensure no one looks down on the gods lightly.

And if I, standing in the position of Supreme God, were to let such insolence slide…

“‘If even the Goddess of Life forgave such transgressions, how could they get so worked up over something like this?’” The other gods—the children—might also end up inconvenienced in worst-case scenarios.

Humans are truly so foolish.

“To the people of Arcad, I apologize, but there’s no easy way to lift this curse. The crime of mocking the temple and the representative of the goddess is far too grave.”

That was all I could say.

“So be it,” the King Makai sighed deeply.

“Just… I only wish for you to lift the curse that has fallen upon this land.”

“If that’s what you wish, then instead of asking me, why don’t you bring your younger sister to repent before the Temple of Life?”

Though genuine repentance may be required, physical means should suffice to resolve the matter.

“Back then, I thought that if we exiled her, she would soon enough atone for her sins.”

But the foolishness harbored within his sister proved far greater than he imagined.

“But I never dreamed my sister would remain so blind to her mistakes for decades. Had I known this beforehand, I would have ensured she engraved her faults into her very bones.”

“Hmm. Perhaps that route would’ve been quicker.”

“But the commoners are innocent, are they not?”

King Makai gazed at me with eyes brimming with resentment.

“In Arcad’s prime, the number of its citizens exceeded 80,000. But after the goddess cast her curse, only a few thousand remained scattered across six cities and seventeen villages. The rest either fled or perished.”

His gaze carried both resentment and sorrow.

“Among those who lost their lives were my own father, the former king.”

Ah. So dire was the situation that even the previous king succumbed.

“When my father blamed himself for his sister’s folly and the kingdom’s decline, he passed the crown to me and shortly thereafter collapsed, never to rise again.”

I listened silently as Makai spoke.

“On the day Father passed, I abandoned my name. Forsaking ‘Shurut,’ I took the name of a predator and wandered through many lands, securing territory with the kingdom’s treasures as collateral. Since then, I’ve honed my sword while abandoning agriculture altogether.”

A faint madness flickered in his eyes.

“And now, with the arrival of the goddess’ representative—the root cause of all this—I can’t help but think this wasn’t merely coincidence but rather divine arrangement, can I?”

“It’s mere chance.”

I stated firmly.

Passing through the wasteland that was once Arcad, encountering the cavalry patrolling there, and arriving here in Arcadia—all coincidences, nothing more.

“Coincidence, you say. But isn’t it said that when coincidences pile up, they become inevitability?”

Makai raised the corner of his lips.

“If I weren’t bound by the duties of kingship, I’d gladly offer my life to beg the goddess for absolution, but alas, the crown binds me, chaining me to this predicament.”

Sadness overwhelmed him.

“Please, goddess, take pity on the people of Arcad who have suffered under your curse. Bestow upon those who have inherited their will and spirit a small blessing.”

With desperate sincerity, he pleaded.

“Since you cursed this land, bless those who have survived upon it.”

His voice carried endless earnestness.

“For those who cannot return to their homeland, for those who were forced to raise livestock despite knowing only farming, for the pitiful elders burdened with guilt over losing their ancestral nation, and for the foolish ones clinging to responsibility—please bestow your blessing.”

He fell before me, spitting out his words.

“Bestow your blessing!”

“Blessing? What kind of blessing do you seek?”

“The best would be a blessing that lifts or counteracts the curse upon Arcad’s land…”

“A god’s decree, once made, cannot be reversed.”

At my words, King Makai lifted his head.

“Yes, I anticipated as much.”

He nodded in agreement.

“Then… I wish for this nation to grow strong.”

“Stronger?”

“Yes. This nation, which relies on borrowed, useless land and food distributed by other nations, I wish for it to grow strong enough not to be swayed by others, strong enough not to be looked down upon, strong enough to repel the armies of other countries.”

So he desires the nation’s power to grow?

Or perhaps…

“In this land, where raising livestock is the only viable option, food and population are perpetually scarce, forcing us to barely survive under the pressure from neighboring countries. If things continue this way, we’ll inevitably face our final choice.”

If their only option besides raising livestock is raiding…

Then war would break out.

War. War.

Understanding that war is sometimes necessary, I wouldn’t outright oppose it, but the loss of countless lives is somewhat regrettable.

“Do you plan to start a war?”

“If necessary, yes.”

“Even if it costs the lives or injuries of the commoners?”

Makai responded with unwavering determination.

“It’s a decision made by all. We cannot survive without fighting.”

Survival competition. Food chain. To live, one must eat, and to eat, one must harm other lives.

They seem to have no other options.

“Why not ask for plants that grow well even in this barren land?”

“If such crops could protect us, we would have already done so.”

Food may sustain the populace and increase numbers, but it won’t defend the nation.

It seems the man before me seeks the strength to protect his country.

“What kind of strength do you desire?”

“Not individual strength, but collective power. No matter how heroic an individual may be, they alone cannot fully protect a nation.”

“Collective power.”

Collective power—that is, the strength of an army.

And the strength of an army lies in morale and leadership.

Clapping my hands once, I conjured something.

A long flagpole topped with a massive banner. Woven with silver threads and finished with black edges, forming a square-shaped flag.

If this flag enhances the army’s strength, the item before me might fulfill the man’s wishes.

“This flag shall carry various blessings. However, its power will only aid the nation of whoever holds it. Should it cross another nation’s borders while unfurled, its power will wane for a year.”

“That’s more than enough to protect our nation.”

Should this flag empower armies indiscriminately, world conquest might become possible.

Thus, penalties must be added.

A restriction: the flag loses its power for a year if used against foreign lands.

An offensive measure limited to defensive purposes.

Is this sufficient? Yes, it should suffice.

“Is there a particular emblem you’d like on this flag?”

“An emblem? Hmm…”

After some contemplation, Makai replied.

“Saber-toothed tiger. Please draw a saber-toothed tiger.”

“Saber-toothed tiger?”

“Yes. The animal from which my current name derives.”

Saber-toothed tiger, hmm. I inscribed a black saber-toothed tiger at the center of the flag.

Let’s see, now I need to decide the buffs for this flag.

First, morale boost. Enhancing the morale of those who fight beneath the sight of this flag.

Morale mirrors the will of an army; a determined army doesn’t crumble easily.

Anyone who’s played large-scale battle games understands how crucial morale-boosting can be.

Next, perfect vitality. Let those directly commanded by the flag-bearer always maintain peak condition.

Finally…

I caused silvery cloth to sprout at the flag’s edges.

Head-sized pieces of cloth suitable for wrapping around the head. Cutting these allows communication between the flag-bearer and those far away.

Like a primitive radio device. Use it by wrapping around the head or arm.

Note: Those using these cut pieces won’t receive the full vitality boost. That privilege is reserved for those directly under the commander’s command—essentially the commander’s personal guard.

And… when cut, the cloth lasts seven days before disappearing and regenerating on the flag. Adding a sharp spearhead to the pole makes it usable as a weapon too. Automatic repair for the spear, blade, and flag itself.

Hmm… Anything else? Is this enough? Honestly, just boosting morale and vitality feels impressive enough.

Handing the completed flag to King Makai, I declared:

“Raise this flag within your nation’s borders to command your army, and those who can see you will never lose morale. Those directly under your command will always overflow with vitality.”

“Vitality?”

“Meaning they’ll always stay in top condition. Moreover, cutting the thin cloths dangling from the bottom and distributing them to subordinates will allow communication regardless of distance.”

Makai ran his fingers along the thin strips hanging from the flag.

“The cut pieces will vanish after seven days and regenerate on the flag. And remember: should this flag tread upon another nation’s soil, it will lose its power for a year.”

“Indeed. I shall bear that in mind.”

Excellent. This should be more than enough. Plus, I’ve restricted its use to defending against foreign invasions!