Chapter 86

“Uh… what should I do from now on?”

The now-genderless goblin, Meta, asks the question. Thanks to the goblinkin’s miraculous recovery powers, it seems the injury to their lower half has healed completely within just a few hours. I grin and gesture toward the forest.

“Go for a run.”

“Eh?”

“Just jog around the Demon Forest once. If you spot any big monsters, hightail it back here.”

“Huh… so… I just run?”

“Meta’s upper body is fine but your legs are way too weak. Plus, with your male hormones all gone now, you’ll need to build up your physique through training.”

Meta tilts their head in confusion but soon follows my orders and takes off into the woods. True to their nature as a forest spiritkin, they vanish in the blink of an eye.

Why not make Meta a god right away, you ask? Can’t be helped. Just like in my previous life, if I turn Meta into a god, all the other deities will come swarming. And they’ll meddle in my business again.

Once Meta becomes a full-fledged god though, even the gods won’t be able to do anything about it. How can they judge someone who’s reached their same level? In my past life, the goblin I raised only made it to demigod status before getting wiped out by the gods.

Still, I can’t let that happen again – at least not yet.

Even if my plans get derailed, such things mustn’t occur. Not until after a certain point anyway.

It’s currently the year 514 of the Imperial Calendar. The Saintess is born in 683. I met her at Babel Tower in 712…

After the Saintess is born, altering history somewhat won’t matter much. Whether her surroundings change a little or not, she’ll still be Maria.

However, messing with history beforehand would be disastrous. It’ll take about three years for me to elevate Meta to godhood using faith. That means I’ll promote them after the Saintess is born – after 683.

Until then, they can just keep washing dishes. With how unstable Meta still is, training is in order.

Goblins aren’t incapable of wielding miasma; they just don’t understand the concept. Unlike demons who have innate miasma, goblins lack it by nature…

But Meta does have miasma inside them now. They just haven’t realized it yet. Through our contract, Meta can borrow my miasma just like Sir Beatrix.

That miasma needs honing. A god isn’t an absolute being, after all. What if some divine slayer like Taeseuethes comes along and offs them carelessly?

Additionally, there’s something else I need to do to avoid altering history: hunting down all the monsters in the southern Demon Forest. To ensure the hero party coming a hundred years from now follows the original timeline.

We need to be careful. Even the hero group growing up out there died, so there’s no guarantee we’re safe either. But we have plenty of time and no need to rush, so we’ll proceed methodically.

“Leader, might I have a moment of your time?”

“Uriel? What is it?”

“I wish to discuss something… regarding that young goblin’s name.”

Uriel places her hand on my shoulder, looking somewhat troubled.

“You’ve been acting strange since earlier. If we move somewhere else to talk, you’ll comply quietly, right? Sir Beatrix, Yohan, please stay behind. This is a private conversation between Uriel and myself. Aru, you behave too.”

“As you command, demon.”

“Arf arf!”

“Yes, I’ll handle the corpses in the meantime. Aru, Yohan, help me clean up.”

Uriel and I move about thirty paces away from where I was standing, stopping behind a tree. Leaning against it, Uriel hesitantly begins speaking.

“What notion possesses you to give such a name to a mere goblin?”

“Name? Is there some problem with it?”

“Surely you, of all people, know the weight of ‘names’ better than most.”

“The weight of names? Of course I do. Why would I not?”

“If that’s true…!”

Uriel’s arm, which had been hanging loosely, now tenses with a fist dangling from it. Is she planning to throw a punch? Just say what’s on your mind already. I’m a pacifist who dislikes violence.

“How…! You wouldn’t dare… attach the name ‘Metatron’ to anyone, would you?!”

“…”

For a human to use a deity’s name is blasphemous.

Zeus, Hades, Odin, Thor, Ra… humans bearing such names simply don’t exist. Using the name itself is blasphemous.

Those who still wish to bear such names must walk the same path as the deity. That’s the only way to be exempted from the blasphemy.

Metatron may be an angel, but he’s a transcendent being above even Michael and Gabriel. He might as well be considered a god. Even so-called gods summoned here couldn’t surpass Metatron’s power.

“You…! What exactly are you plotting? Your intention to elevate this goblin beyond its kind doesn’t seem to merely mean evolution!”

“…”

“Metatron became a god from humanity. Surely not… surely you’re not scheming some ridiculous plan to make this goblin into a god?”

“…Ah, I suppose you can’t accept it, can you? As a servant of the Supreme God, Uriel, you couldn’t possibly condone this…”

My very existence is already blasphemous. Whether the gods or Metatron themselves get upset about this matter is none of my concern.

But Uriel is different. Even though she’s here under Michael’s orders, she remains a legitimate messenger of the Lord. She can’t possibly approve of my actions.

So how should I respond? After pondering briefly…

The decision came quickly. I’ll just hide it. There’s a clear difference between “transcending one’s species” and “becoming a god.” With just a bit of wordplay, this issue can be easily resolved.

“Say, there’s something you’re misunderstanding.”

“What is it?”

“The mutated goblin’s name is now ‘Meta,’ not Metatron. Get it? Just because ‘Zeus’ isn’t allowed doesn’t mean ‘Zes’ is forbidden too. It’s clearly a different name from Metatron.”

“…”

Words are fascinating things. With only about twenty letters, you can create phrases. By rearranging the syntax or twisting the grammar, you can subtly alter meanings.

“Besides, I was just throwing out suggestions. Benjamin and Harold were just names that popped into my head. It was Meta themselves who chose Metatron.”

“Is that really all there is to it? There’s no hidden meaning?”

“Do you have paranoia or something? Why do you keep thinking I have ulterior motives? If I really did have some grand plan, would I have changed the name to Meta so readily? I would’ve pushed for Metatron all the way.”

Uriel rests her chin on her thumb and forefinger. I ostentatiously sigh.

Time to change the subject. These thinly-veiled lies won’t hold up long if we keep discussing this.

“By the way, didn’t your wings grow longer, Uriel? When did that happen?”

“Hm? Oh, these? When the cleric from the hero party took their own life earlier today.”

“What do you mean? Why does someone jumping off result in wing growth?”

“Friendship. I witnessed friendship more precious than life itself. Then, similar to when I observed unbreakable love following Langwang’s death, a sensation overwhelmed me, lifting my body off the ground. When I descended back to earth, these wings had grown.”

I gently stroke one of the two pairs of white, fluffy wings sprouting from Uriel’s back.

“Is that so? That’s wonderful news. If you keep progressing like this, you might become an archangel again someday. Or rather, achieve your goal of ranking alongside the three great archangels?”

“It’s all too far-fetched a dream at this point.”

“Why so low on yourself? You should always aim high. You’ve already surpassed baby angel and teenage angel stages, reaching mid-level angel territory.”

Uriel doesn’t reject my touch. Instead, she gazes at me intently, deep in thought.

“…So this is why Michael assigned me to you.”

“Hm?”

“It’s been two hundred years since I began serving beside you. During that time, I’ve advanced twice, but I don’t think these advancements necessarily required being by your side. There’s plenty of love and friendship in the world. Had I wandered separately, I might have witnessed equally noble and sublime things. With good fortune, I could have grown faster than I have now.”

“And?”

“Why did Michael insist on keeping me by your side? I still don’t understand the reason. My heart feels restless and anxious. I’m unsure if I’m truly on the right path.”

She lacks conviction.

I understand Michael’s perspective. Uriel isn’t aiming to return as an archangel but seeks a higher “truth.” Without being by my side, there’s almost no way Uriel would reach that truth.

But Uriel doesn’t realize this. That’s why she feels frustrated.

I place my hand atop Uriel’s head. Finding it damaging to her pride, she bats my hand away with her palm. Feeling awkward, I scratch the back of my neck.

“Umm, Uriel, there’s something you should recall.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t you remember what you said at first? That you’d follow Michael’s orders without question because they were Michael’s commands?”

“Did I say that?”

“You did. I remember it clearly. Now you’re losing sight of your初心 (original resolve). Over the course of two hundred years, the loyalty and blind faith you initially held for Michael’s orders have dulled. It’s not strange though. Time tends to do that.”

But you need to rise above that dullness to move forward.

People wander aimlessly on paths they cannot see, lacking confidence that they’re heading in the right direction. Angels are no exception.

Still, the archangel Uriel of old wouldn’t have lost focus so easily. Her rank has fallen, and apparently so has her mental age. That’s probably why she keeps getting swayed by me.

“You call me ‘leader,’ right? What does that mean? Isn’t it someone who guides? If you’re going to call me your leader arbitrarily, you should at least trust me a little. If you can’t trust me, trust Michael.”

While thinking this, I merely offered advice to Uriel.

“-Actually.”

Uriel begins with an unusually serious expression.

Just hearing the first word makes it feel like she’s about to say something unusual.

“Whenever I look at you, Chaos comes to mind.”

“…Huh? Chaos? What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know. In fact, I don’t even know what Chaos is. It’s classified top-secret information in the Celestial Realm, inaccessible even to archangels. So why does the name Chaos keep popping into my head whenever I see you, Leader?”

What?! Why is she associating me with that terrifying thing? I’m Oscar, not Chaos!

“Look, Uriel, I’m Oscar! Oscar, third son of the Northern Demon Dukedom. Why are you confusing me with someone named Chaos or whatever?”

“Isn’t it suspicious? The name ‘Oscar’ can be rearranged into ‘Chaos.’ Could this really be a coincidence?”

“Of course it’s a coincidence! Good grief, this is making me so mad. How many homophonic names are there in the world!”

Lucifer said the same thing about me too. Seriously, should I just change my name? At this rate, everyone might start linking me to Chaos. I’m just a demon, why is this happening?!

“Looking at you confuses me. Listening to your sophistry twists my understanding of common sense. Are you denying that you’re related to chaos?”

“Gah, stop it with the cringe-worthy stuff. Calling a demon ‘chaos’? Are you stuck in second grade of a middle academy? Call me one of the Seven Deadly Sins if you want!”

I’m currently an apostle of love and acceptance. Chaos? I quit that nonsense long ago. Why bring up outdated stuff when I’m trying to improve? This frustrates me.

“You claimed to be the third son of the Northern Demon Dukedom, right? Leader, how old are you now?”

“Me? I’m 309 now?”

“According to Langwang, you entered the Demon Forest exactly 300 years ago. That means you spent less than nine years in the Northern Demon Dukedom, yet you possess an extraordinarily vast knowledge base. Is this also a coincidence? Could it be related to Chaos?”

This is because I’m a reincarnated soul, you annoying angel. Stop bringing up Chaos every chance you get. I’m just well-read!

We shouldn’t continue this inefficient conversation any longer. While resolving doubts is important, this line of questioning is only detrimental to me. Shaking my head, I step out from behind the tree, leaving a dismissive remark.

“It’s just that I read a lot of books. They say knowledge is the most efficient weapon. It has no volume or weight yet is the strongest weapon.”

“Wait…! I’m not finished…”

“Sir Beatrix! Has Meta returned yet? They didn’t get eaten somewhere, did they? Aru! Go check on Meta! If they’re still running, just let them keep going!”

I ignore Uriel’s attempt to grab me and rush over to Beatrix and Langwang who are burying the bodies.

Having cultivated myself for 300 years to become like the Saintess yet still retaining remnants of my old self… becoming virtuous truly is difficult. That’s what makes it enjoyable. I must continue striving diligently in the future.

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