Chapter 44

After Shamash bestowed the Code of Laws upon humanity, criminal acts among humans did decrease… just a little bit.

Well, only “a little,” but still.

Of course, it’s only natural. Just because I sent down stone tablets inscribed with laws doesn’t mean all humans will suddenly have them engraved in their brains, right?

And besides, it’ll take plenty of time for these laws to spread across the world to all the scattered groups of humans.

Still, now that I’ve given them clear standards, seeing how they more or less follow them makes me realize just how problematic things were before the Code of Laws.

Anyway, the content of the law code I gave to the human king was painstakingly copied onto clay tablets by many hands and dispersed throughout the world, reaching every corner touched by humanity.

Naturally, it wasn’t just humans who received it—it was obvious that other intelligent races would get the message too.

Even the Lizardmen’s territory, the Elves’ lands, and the Dwarves’ regions got word of it. As for the Giants up north… well, they can’t read letters very well, so they had to hear it through people explaining it verbally.

By the way, the Beastmen, since they were already living mixed in with humans, naturally received the news of the law code around the same time as the humans—nothing too noteworthy there.

Hmm. Thanks to humanity spreading out and blazing trails everywhere, delivering the law code to them meant it eventually reached every nook and cranny of this world.

From the perspective of those ruling over human populations, it must be convenient not having to conduct arbitrary trials and punish people without reason. This reduces excessive punishments and even cuts down on executions, which is good since labor is valuable in this era.

And conducting judgment and sentencing without established laws must’ve been exhausting work.

Thus, humanity’s first set of laws slowly but surely took root among the people.

Though, for some of the other races, it probably didn’t resonate much.

The Lizardmen, Elves, and Dwarves valued and followed their own gods far more than any written laws.

The legal code handed down by the God of Law seemed like something that only applied within human territories—a rulebook that felt distant compared to their beloved deities.

Of course, when you think about it, it makes sense. When you have a god you trust and revere right there, why care about some stone tablet from another deity? A god is close; the law feels far away.

Still, thanks to a few words I exchanged with Yggdrasil and Sagarmatha, both the Elves and Dwarves understood that within human domains, they should respect human laws.

As for the Lizardmen? Hmm…

“The Creator Dragon God saw the God of Light arbitrarily deciding sins without clear standards and grew angry, but the God of Light ignored the Creator Dragon God completely.

Despite the Creator Dragon God’s efforts to persuade the God of Light, the latter refused to listen and kept repeating the same mistakes.

So, to punish the God of Light, the Creator Dragon God unleashed divine power, plunging the world into darkness for a while.

Thus, an eclipse occurred in the world.”

I had merely told a short story, but they’d exaggerated it to epic proportions.

“But then, the Creator Dragon God forgave the God of Light and commanded that sins be judged according to clear rules.

Therefore, the God of Light created a system for weighing sins and bestowed it upon humanity, and this became the first law.”

Stone tablets inscribed with such tales didn’t take long to create. Honestly, these guys are way too enthusiastic.

—

Time flows ever onward.

At one of the Lizardmen festivals, a Great Warrior was chosen, and thanks to my blessing, this warrior transcended the limits of the Lizardmen to become a superhuman being known as a Dragon Person—but that wasn’t really important.

During the martial arts tournament finale, I shone a dazzling light above the victor’s head, infused them with immense power, and reconstructed their body, turning them into an existence surpassing the Lizardmen. The performance was pretty impressive if I do say so myself.

This new Dragon Person’s body became stronger, faster, and larger. Their scales grew tough enough to resist even obsidian blades, their claws sharp enough to tear through anything, and their tail strong enough to snap thick trees with a single swipe.

Truly, they were beings beyond the Lizardmen.

Oh, and no wings. They did sprout horns on their heads, but adding wings might’ve been too much—they wouldn’t handle sudden physical changes well.

As a bonus, I also blessed their weapon.

I thought about giving it an unbreakable enchantment like the one I placed on the spear of the Lizardmen Chief, but creating multiple items with the same ability would be problematic, wouldn’t it?

So instead, during the reconstruction process, I consulted with the winner about what kind of blessing they wanted for their weapon and incorporated their input.

By the way, this position lasts only one year. Once the next festival begins, the blessings will fade, and both their body and weapon will return to normal.

Of course, it’s only natural. How could someone participate in future tournaments with such advantages? That’d be cheating! Breaking the rules!

In fact, it might even serve as a penalty! After getting used to their enhanced body for a year, they’ll feel weaker when they revert to their original state.

But if they win again despite that disadvantage, they’d truly be remarkable.

Anyway, the victorious Great Warrior transformed into a Dragon Person, praising the name of the Creator Dragon God, and the Lizardmen grew even more grateful, realizing the Creator Dragon God hadn’t abandoned them.

There was another addition: the birth of an Archmage who could hear the voice of the Creator Dragon God.

We selected a Lizardman with exceptional affinity for spirits—one who got along easily with them—and declared them the Archmage, causing quite a stir among the Lizardmen.

Though I didn’t bestow any special blessings on the Archmage, I did help them communicate more smoothly with spirits. Their talent came purely from their own abilities.

From then on, the Creator Dragon God would speak only through the Archmage—the chosen medium capable of hearing the divine voice.

By the way, the Archmage’s term lasted indefinitely unless someone with greater talent appeared or they chose to step down voluntarily.

And stepping down is always an option! The benevolent Creator Dragon God values personal freedom! There are no restrictions on marriage either!

Though, if they misuse the Creator Dragon God’s name, there will be consequences.

Thus, through the Great Warrior and the Archmage, the Lizardmen gradually restored their fading faith in the Creator Dragon God, leading to the flourishing of the Lizardmen under the leadership of the Chief, the Great Warrior, and the Archmage.

—

With the Lizardmen matters mostly settled, I stared at the list of names on my GodTalk interface.

Yggdrasil, the World Tree, revered as a deity by the Elves.

Sagarmatha, the highest peak, worshipped as a sacred mountain by the Dwarves.

Shamash, the God of Light, Justice, and Law, honored by the humans.

Beyond that, the list was empty.

Hmph… there should be a few more names here. Specifically, three.

While Yggdrasil is worshipped by the Elves, Sagarmatha by the Dwarves, and Shamash by the humans… it’s a shame Sylphid, Ifrit, and Thetis aren’t receiving similar reverence. Yeah.

I know the reasons, though.

From the start, their circumstances weren’t ideal for being worshipped as gods by humans.

First, let’s talk about Thetis.

For one thing, her location isn’t exactly accessible. She resides in a massive whirlpool far out at sea, far from where humans live.

Human navigation skills aren’t advanced enough to reach her yet! Right now, they’re just paddling around coastal areas in simple rafts.

Without further advancements in seafaring technology, humans won’t even discover her existence.

Next, Ifrit.

Ah… his surroundings are brutal. His main body is eternal flame, burning at temperatures so scorching that nothing can survive nearby… except for certain heat-adapted creatures, none of which possess intelligence comparable to humans.

Most plants die from dehydration or burn up in the extreme heat, making the area nearly uninhabitable.

As a result, Ifrit’s presence has turned the surrounding region into a desert.

Fortunately, the desert hasn’t expanded too much yet, but the fact that it remains hot even at night is bizarre. Isn’t nighttime supposed to be cooler?

Anyway, the harsh environment around Ifrit prevents humans from settling there easily, so there are no worshippers for him either.

Perhaps someday humans will adapt to living in such deserts, but for now, in the post-Stone Age era, it’s unlikely.

Finally, Sylphid.

How do you worship something invisible like wind?

And how do you venerate a spirit that never stays in one place?

Even if she possesses immense power, she doesn’t flaunt it, so how could anyone worship her?

A deity needs a momentous event to inspire devotion.

And Sylphid hasn’t had that opportunity yet.

One day, perhaps when people come to fear or admire the wind, Sylphid may ascend to become the God of Wind.

When that day will come, I can’t say for sure, but it probably won’t take too long.