God

“Miria-san, it had been a while.”

“And the same to you, Woody-dono. Had you been well?”

“Yes, thanks to you.”

After a brief exchange of greetings, I got straight to the point.

I only knew how things worked among humans, so the situation surrounding aptitudes among demi-humans—starting with dark elves—had been almost entirely unknown to me.

So I asked, and the answer I got back was unexpected.

“Skills, you mean? In that case, there are basically no dark elves who possess skills.”

In other words, dark elves did not have that power called an aptitude… or, more casually, a skill.

“Instead, all of us can use magic. And if we went back to the root of it, humans and dark elves even worship different gods.”

“…Huh? Really?”

The innate talent gained through the Rite of Blessing.

It was something bestowed by the Goddess—an unnamed deity of the kingdom’s state religion, a monotheistic faith that everyone was obligated to follow (the Goddess had no name; interpretations still weren’t unified, but most people simply called her “the Goddess”).

I had assumed everyone worshiped this Goddess, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

The god the dark elves worshiped was said to be a nameless forest god.

Apparently, just like our Goddess, their god didn’t have a name either.

“However, among elves, there are those beloved by the Forest Goddess who do possess skills.”

“I see—so that was why you knew about skills too, Miria-san.”

Maybe it was because I worshiped the Goddess, but the forest god sounded like it played favorites.

Elves could have skills, but dark elves apparently had never produced anyone with skills.

Wasn’t that unfair?

Then again, our Goddess—whose blessings showed stark differences depending on bloodline—was cruel in her own way too… Maybe it wasn’t a matter of which was better, just a matter of preference.

Just as I reached that conclusion, another question surfaced.

“Then the reason dark elves can use physical enhancement isn’t the power of a skill? If you’re using magic with nothing backing it, the effect feels far too strong…”

“Well… to be honest, I’ve never thought that deeply about it. I always assumed it was simply the forest god’s blessing, but…”

If it was a skill, there wouldn’t really be a problem.

But if it was something dark elves possessed naturally, then it meant the god wasn’t doing anything at all.

Wasn’t that… neglecting the job?

They should just switch over to our Goddess.

…Wait, but if they did, what would happen?

“Hey, Aira—if someone changed the god they believed in… what would happen?”

“That is far too irreverent a question to have ever considered… hmmmmm…”

After thinking for a bit, Aira suddenly looked as though she’d had an epiphany.

Staring toward the distant Element Fruit orchard, she said,

“Luckily, we have those who are close to what you might call ‘gods’—perfect for asking about such things. Why not try hearing what they have to say?”

Now that she mentioned it, she was right.

I decided to ask Simurg-san.

But the answer Simurg-san gave me was…

“Hmmm… that is classified information. I basically do not have the authority to answer questions about gods.”

Thinking back, Simurg-san—being a Divine Beast—had all sorts of restrictions placed on what it could do.

It seemed topics related to gods also tripped one of those restrictions.

I was curious about gods, but in the end, I could only leave the issue unresolved.

I was the type who wanted to chase things down to the final answer, but I never arrived at a conclusion of my own.

Because elves—apparently having noticed an abnormality in the leylines—came to Tree Village, and it became the least of my concerns—.