Chapter 19

“…Honestly, I’m starting to think this guy should’ve been the Demon King, not me.”

I shoved aside the stack of documents I’d been flipping through and let out a half-awed sigh.

“Wow… this bastard’s on a whole other level.”

• Human ranching. Or maybe human farming.

Kill when you want, breed when you want.

To give his Pages and Squires the thrill of blood on their hands, or to entertain bored nobles, he held seasonal “human hunts.” He sold peasants to quack doctors who were closer to barbers than real physicians, turning them into test subjects for coin.

Periodically, children were rounded up. The pretty ones got trafficked to other lords or gentry as toys. The talented—those who showed promise in magic or Steel Body—were brainwashed until they became slavishly loyal hounds of the baron.

Worse still, the peasants had been split into two artificial factions: the Tragos Clan (Goatfolk) and the Koiros Clan (Pigfolk).

Not that the division was elaborate.

The Tragos just got taxed a hair less and received a special meal once a week. That was it.

But it was enough. Within five years, what was once one people turned into bitter enemies. Instead of hating the baron who enslaved them, they aimed all their anger and despair at each other.

“…I know I shouldn’t say this, but… he really built a flawless system.”

“I told you, didn’t I? He’d make a better Demon King than I ever did.”

Another ten days later.

I finally completed not only a coherent doctrine but even a draft of scripture.

And no, I didn’t write a holy book from scratch in just ten days.

I just ripped a few chapters from the Lumina Church’s scripture—the one the angel had shoved into my hands as “something a priest should always carry”—then scrubbed out Lumina’s name and replaced it with the baron’s. A quick edit job, and there you go.

A holy text is just a prop anyway. The peasants can’t even read. The baron knew that too, which is why he didn’t nitpick. If necessary, I could always add revisions later.

What really mattered was the doctrine drilled into their skulls.

And on that front, the baron was eager to get personally involved.

-Long ago, in the heavens, there was a god named “Shibal.”¹

-The great god “Shibal” was counted among the mightiest of the divine.

“…Wait. David.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“This… ‘Shibal.’ Where exactly did that name come from?”

“Ah, that’s an archaic tongue, my lord. It was an expression used for intense emotions—surprise, anger, joy. I thought it suited you perfectly, so I applied it here.”

“…Couldn’t we just use the family name Sinan, or my own name, Gelrok?”

“If we reuse your human name, my lord, the peasants will carry over the image of ‘Baron Gelrok Av Sinan’ into the image of the god. That would diminish the divine majesty. Separation is better.”

“Hmm… still, the sound of it is a bit… unsavory. No other names?”

“Well… if ‘Shibal’ displeases you, how about ‘Jjinta’ or ‘Jot’? In the old tongue, Jjinta means ‘beloved,’ and Jot means ‘masculine strength.’”²

“…Not fond of those either.”

“In that case… perhaps ‘Pedo,’ ‘Furry,’ or ‘Otaku’? In the old tongue, Pedo means ‘one who loves children,’ Furry is ‘one who embraces even beasts,’ and Otaku is ‘unyielding spirit, even against the world’s ridicule.’”

“…Still doesn’t sit right.”

“Ah! Then how about ‘Byung’? In the old tongue, it means ‘perfect.’ Actually, I think that fits best.”³

“…Byung. Byung… hmm.”

“Yes, but don’t drag it out—make it sharp: ‘Byung!’”

“So it becomes… ‘Byung-Shin’? Byung-Shin… it does roll nicely off the tongue. Fine. We’ll go with that.”

“Understood. Then I’ll amend it from ‘Shibal God’ to ‘Byung-Shin.’ The Exalted Byung-Shin, Joht the Mighty, Pedo the Tender, Furry the Compassionate.”

“Ha! You flatter too much. Still, continue.”

-Unlike the other gods, Byung-Shin simply observed the mortal world. One day, he grew curious and chose the humans of the Sinan Barony as his people.

-Yet dwelling in the heavens, he needed a vessel. He descended into the body of a mortal, creating an avatar—and that vessel was none other than the late Baron Kadron Av Sinan.

-When that flesh weakened, Byung-Shin chose a new vessel. Thus, his divine incarnation is the current lord, Baron Gelrok Av Sinan.

“…David. And this word after ‘Byung-Shin’—‘Saeki’? What does it mean?”⁴

“Ah, that’s also from the old tongue, my lord. It means ‘great’ or ‘exalted one.’ I felt a god should have a title to suit his grandeur.”

“…But why is the modifier placed after the name?”

“That’s simply how the old tongue’s syntax works.”

“I see. Byung-Shin Saeki… The Great and Perfect God. Hah. It does roll well. Very well. We’ll use both forms interchangeably.”

“As you will, my lord. The Exalted Byung-Shin Saeki.”

“Well, that aside… here, about this part where you distinguish between the celestial being and the earthly incarnation—do we really need that split?”

“Of course we do, my lord. It’s the shield that preserves Byung-Shin’s perfection and infallibility. Imagine you’re giving a sermon as a god and… you trip over your words.”

The baron’s face twisted with discomfort.

“Ugh… that would be humiliating.”

“If you don’t draw that line, then Byung-Shin becomes the ‘bumbling god who stutters.’ Would you worship a stammering deity, my lord? Whereas if you frame it as just a vessel—an avatar—then people shrug it off as, ‘Ah, even gods show human quirks when speaking through flesh.’ The true Byung-Shin remains flawless.”

“…I see. Quite right.”

“And if we set it up that way, when your heir inherits your divine throne, the transition is seamless. No need for messy rewrites.”

The baron gave a low, impressed chuckle.

“…Hmm. Truly, priests think differently.”

“Shall I continue?”

“Do so.”

-Hardship in the mortal world is merely a trial, by which Byung-Shin chooses which souls are worthy of paradise.

-To suffer is proof of being chosen. Rejoice.

-The greater the pain endured in life, the greater the reward in paradise, and the greater the blessing upon one’s descendants.

-To give one’s life for Byung-Shin is to secure a high seat in his paradise.

“…Wait, David. There’s a mistake here. It says Bing-Shin⁵ instead of Byung-Shin.”

“Oh—apologies.”

And so, the doctrine and scripture were completed.

Exchanged for “extra rations,” a “five-li tax,” and a touch of violence, they spread like wildfire inside the Darkryu Wall.

The older peasants spat on the ground, muttering, “What kind of dogshit is this?” and walked away. But the younger ones, already dumbed down, memorized the verses word-for-word—if it meant a scrap more monster meat in their bowls.

A month later, under the night sky—

“My lord, the time has come.”

“The speech?”

“Here it is.”

“Good. Summon Mage Moben.”

At last, the baron moved. His new doctrine had settled deep enough, and he was ready to make his debut as a god.

Above the peasant district inside the Darkryu Wall, a massive projection of the baron appeared. It was Mage Moben’s work, a spell broadcasting the baron’s image across the sky.

“What the—what is that?”

“Isn’t that… the lord?”

“Shh! You idiot! Don’t call him that! Old man Jenson said that once and got hauled off! You have to say Byung-Shin. Or Byung-Shin the Exalted.”

The peasants stared up in shock.

Arms spread wide, a plastered-on smile, the baron’s phantom roared with pompous authority.

• Behold! Hear me, my people!

• I am Byung-Shin, your God!

• Today, I, the master of your souls, have descended for your sake!

I watched from the crowd of peasants, playing my role as the god’s priest. Shia, perched piggyback on my shoulders, whispered in my ear.

“Did you hear that?”

“Yeah. He flat-out called himself a God. No way to walk that back.”

“How outrageous. That’s blasphemy—even with the Gods’ eyes on him.”

“Exactly.”

“At this point, wouldn’t it make sense for some angel to come down and beat him bloody?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

I smirked and ripped the angel summoning ticket from my pocket.

Riiiip—

“Time to get to work, angel.”

The angel didn’t appear in a flash of light the moment I tore it.

She arrived thirteen minutes later.

“P–present! You called?”

“…Didn’t you say ‘within ten minutes, anywhere’? You’re three minutes late.”

“Oh, come on. That was a figure of speech. You think I can just snap my fingers across worlds? I was on Earth, you know. Making it here in thirteen minutes was already insane!”

“…Fair enough. You do look like you rushed.”

She was still in pajamas—fluffy yellow ones that made her look like a chick—complete with a sleep mask dangling from her neck.

Realizing how ridiculous she looked, she coughed, clapped her hands… snap!

Her chick suit warped into a sleek, black business suit. Black stockings shimmered over pale legs. Her hair, once a tangled mess, cascaded neatly over her shoulders as if freshly treated. Five radiant wings flared open behind her.

For the final touch, a pair of rimless glasses materialized on her face.

“Ahem. So? What was so urgent you burned a summoning ticket already? I figured we wouldn’t meet again this soon.”

“Oh, that.”

I pointed up at the projection still blaring in the sky.

-Doubt not the words of your God Byung-Shin! Your future is secure in me! Fear not the pains of this life—for they are joy in the next!

The angel stared for a moment… then snorted.

“…What the hell? Is this a comedy act? You drag me here just to share the laugh? Wait… where are we?”

“…You didn’t even check? Sinan.”

“Sinan? Sinan? As in that Sinan?”

She glanced at the phantom, then at me, then at Shia glaring at her from atop my shoulders.

“…Ah. I get it. He’s declaring himself a God. And you—you pushed him into it, didn’t you?”

“Yep.”

“I see… so this was your way of securing ‘just cause’ for my intervention. Clever. You’re not just a sword-swinger after all.”

“Good enough grounds for you?”

“…Ideally, I’d have let it simmer a bit longer. But fine. This much is sufficient. Especially since the baron’s trash anyway. So? What do you want me to do?”

I smirked again, jabbing a thumb toward the floating projection.

“That’s what I want to ask. How far can you go?”