Chapter 165

Convenient tools of the Dwarves. Searching for traces of Baal, the King of the Gods using information processing tablets… was far from easy.

While reading through documents about mythology, I occasionally glanced at related files that popped up nearby, and then more related files within those files… My gaze kept getting dragged away by these distractions nonstop.

Honestly speaking, half the time I spent checking the Dwarven Archives wasn’t on the documents I searched for but rather on the related ones.

And why were the categories of these so-called “related documents” so absurdly broad? Like, why does a document exist that examines the breeds of the Divine Hall’s Guardian Deity Sirius?

Well, there’s nothing to be done about it. Knowing the value of the countless books in the Dwarven Archives from my days studying theology, I couldn’t afford to miss even the smallest tidbit of information.

It would’ve been all too tragic to overlook such precious bits of knowledge.

So, day after day passed as I continued my search…

“Hmph… There’s absolutely nothing here.”

I found out that there was no information on the King of the Gods or the name Baal in the Dwarves’ vast records.

Even with the immense amount of data the Dwarves possessed, this was beyond them? But if that’s the case… where could I find any related information?

The Elves? But they’re even more closed-off than the Dwarves. Even if someone like me, who has no ties to the Elves, managed to get permission to enter Alfheim, it’d take months.

Unfortunately, I had no connection to the Elves whatsoever. So, it seemed like a dead end.

If neither the Dwarves nor the Elves had the answers, who else might know about the King of the Gods, Baal?

The God of Wisdom? No, that wouldn’t work. If word got out that I was searching for a forgotten deity buried in history…

It wouldn’t just end with death.

There must be a reason why some things are lost to history.

I sighed softly. What should I do? What can I do?

Feeling like I’d hit a dead-end alley, I turned around only to see the labyrinth of paths I’d already taken—none of which seemed correct anymore.

What could I do? Was this as far as one mere human could go?

Just as I sighed again, Huang Dong-gyeong appeared and clicked his tongue before saying,

“What is this? Already giving up?”

“Huang Dong-gyeong.”

“The archaeologist I know didn’t give up, even in situations like this. That boar-like person who charged ahead without caring about means or methods, where did they go?”

“At that time, we had clues—a faint trail. It wasn’t as hopeless as now.”

Hearing my words, Huang Dong-gyeong shook his head slightly and said,

“Don’t you have a clue right there with you? The fragment of the stone tablet with writing on it.”

“But how could this stone fragment possibly be a clue? Unless it sprouts a mouth and starts talking.”

“It doesn’t need a mouth to give you various pieces of information.”

Various pieces of information?

“I’ve already tried dating the fragment to figure out its age.”

“Tch. And you think that’s all there is?”

Huang Dong-gyeong looked at me disdainfully, then extended his hand.

“Hand over the fragment. With Dwarf technology, we can determine when, where, and how it was made, as well as the region where the stone originated.”

Despite his smooth hands, unlike most Dwarves who are known for their loyalty and sense of honor, Huang Dong-gyeong had betrayed me once before. Was it wise to entrust him with the sole clue I had?

But the fact remained: I had no other leads.

With another sigh, I took the fragment wrapped in cloth from my embrace and placed it into Huang Dong-gyeong’s palm.

“Hmm. Once the necessary procedures are done, I’ll return it. Though, cutting off a tiny piece from the edge shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“As long as it’s not part of the inscription, it’s fine.”

After hearing my words, Huang Dong-gyeong nodded and put the cloth-wrapped fragment into his pouch.

“Still, was it really so hopeless that you gave up like this?”

“I didn’t expect it to be this bad. It felt like every trace of the King of the Gods had been deliberately erased.”

“Hmm… Deliberately erased, you say.”

Huang Dong-gyeong thought deeply for a moment before saying,

“In that case, why not look somewhere other than mythology?”

“Somewhere else?”

“If the Divine List, which supposedly contains the names of all gods, doesn’t have it, then the traces were thoroughly wiped clean. You should assume you won’t find anything in mythological sources. Perhaps the remnants of those traces remain elsewhere, like… fairy tales told to children.”

Fairy tales?

“Hmm. Definitely, many fairy tales originate from myths, but…”

At least in the fairy tales I know, there’s no mention of the heavens or anything similar. Of course, it’s possible they’re hidden, but none of the fairy tales I’m familiar with directly reference the heavens.

“At least in the fairy tales I know, there’s nothing like that. Unless it’s an obscure oral tale from some distant region.”

“For human oral tales, perhaps.”

Huang Dong-gyeong snatched the information processing tablet from my hand, brought something up, then handed it back to me.

“Dwarf fairy tales are a bit different from human ones. I remember liking a particular fairy tale when I was little.”

On the screen of the information processing tablet was a fairy tale written in simple language suitable for children.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Once upon a time, in an era when dragons smoked cigarettes, there was a small mountain.

A little mountain that rose gently from Mother Earth. Sometimes stern, sometimes kind, this small mountain always loved Mother Earth, who provided everything.

Learning about the vastness of the world from Mother Earth’s teachings, the small mountain lived happily alongside her.

One day, the high-reaching sky fell in love at first sight with the expansive Mother Earth.

Captivated by the most beautiful and charming Mother Earth, Sky believed only this mountain could be his perfect match.

Blind to everything else, Sky devised numerous schemes to claim Mother Earth for himself.

…

However, thanks to the small mountain’s efforts, all of Sky’s plans failed miserably.

Mother Earth, impressed by the small mountain’s perseverance, lifted it high, making it the tallest mountain of all.

Now called the Sacred Mountain, it stood guard to ensure Sky never schemed again.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“Gaia! Too many orphaned children have lost their parents!”

“And what nonsense brings you here unannounced again?”

In the middle of leisurely enjoying tea and bread with Sagarmatha, Baal suddenly showed up.

Hmm… How many times has this happened now? Does this fool not understand the concept of prior notice?

Not to mention, Sagarmatha growls every time she sees Baal, which is somewhat concerning. Yet he keeps showing up unexpectedly. Is he incapable of learning?

Fortunately, Sagarmatha is currently asleep, clutching onto my waist, so there won’t be a fight this time.

“Why bring up the story of orphaned children now?”

“But isn’t it pitiful? These poor children, left without parental protection, collapsing from hunger.”

Though the chaos among the gods has lessened, its effects still linger.

Many people perished caught between divine conflicts, including those who left behind children.

“And let me tell you beforehand, the Temple of Life is already taking care of enough orphans.”

The temple, which had been shrinking in numbers and scale, temporarily expanded due to the influx of orphans—far exceeding their capacity to care for them.

Still, thanks to the wealth and personnel accumulated over the years, the burden wasn’t overwhelming. If needed, resources could be pulled from other places.

“But… isn’t it pitiful for children growing up without parents?”

“So, what do you plan to do about it?”

Baal confidently declared,

“Borrow your wisdom! How can we properly raise these children?”

“Properly raise them? Their lives are already stacked against them since they’ve lost their parents.”

“But… surely Gaia must have some method? It’s pitiful to see children being scorned simply because they lack parents.”

Hmm… Method… Method…

Ah, yes, this will work.

“You could become the father of these parentless children.”

“Father? Me?”

“Yes. If the King of the Gods becomes their father, no one would dare scorn them, would they?”

No human would dare disrespect the children of the King of the Gods.

“So… lend me your name! If there’s a father, there should be a mother too, right?”

My name? Hmm…

Glancing down at Sagarmatha clinging to my waist, I sighed lightly and said,

“For children without mothers, you may use the name Gaia. Just don’t bring up the Goddess of Life.”

“Okay! Thank you!!”

Well, for the sake of unfortunate children, lending out the name Gaia is acceptable.

Thinking this, I stroked Sagarmatha’s head hanging from my waist.

Only to realize she’d already opened her eyes.

“Don’t hate Baal for the sake of these poor children.”

“Yeah… I don’t hate him anymore.”

“So?”

“Just… it feels pathetic to yearn for something you can never obtain.”

“Something you can never obtain?”

“There are things like that. Mom doesn’t need to know, though.”

Though I’m unclear on specifics, if Sagarmatha says so…

Still, it’s fortunate that she no longer hates him. Given my position, favoring either side would be difficult.

As such, I continued to stroke Sagarmatha’s head.