The Stone Tablet, slowly falling to the ground, stopped right before the King’s eyes.
From the hovering Stone Tablet, the engraved light flickered and danced.
The King could do nothing but widen his eyes, unable to even open his mouth.
He’d expected, seeing Richard’s meaningful smile, that something would happen, but he could never have imagined that a Stone Tablet would descend from the sky like this.
Moreover, the aura emanating from that Stone Tablet was one of absolute authority.
His knees bent instinctively.
When he came to his senses, everyone who had witnessed the Miracle was bowing their heads before the Stone Tablet.
That included even the Temple Knights who had been waiting in the Garden of the Royal Castle.
“What… what is that thing?”
“It’s what believers and followers must now uphold from here on.”
To the trembling-voiced Aaron, Richard replied in a calm tone.
The Temple Knights’ gazes slid toward him at those words.
He too was a follower of Hor, and their eyes were desperate to know what this was about.
With a brief chuckle, Richard gestured toward the podium.
Just then, the King’s voice began to resound.
“First, you shall not worship any god other than Hor.”
As he read aloud the engravings on the Stone Tablet, light began to leak from the King’s body.
“Second, do not turn your eyes away from your own heart.”
He continued to read the lines one by one.
It was as if Hor himself were conveying his will through the King’s lips.
The posture of the people grew ever more humble.
A devoutness shone in the Temple Knights’ eyes.
“A group needs rules. Rules that keep us from straying from our true purpose.”
Richard muttered with a pleased smile.
Divine Power gained by ascending to mid-level divinity—Law.
The rules he laid down for the Hor Church were as follows.
- You shall not serve anything other than Hor.
- Do not turn your eyes away from your own heart.
- Do not utter your wishes in vain, for it is the same as disgracing Hor.
- Equate the Law and the commandments, and uphold them as sacred.
- Hor is a god who pursues good, so he does not dwell with evil hearts. Do not dare to cloak selfishness that only seeks your own comfort and wounds others in the name of Hor.
- More righteous is the one who acts and prays than the one who sits and prays.
- Do not confuse greed with aspiration.
- Examine yourselves according to the social norms.
- Let the wicked not hope for Hor’s pardon. There is no mercy in divine punishment.
- In desolate places, Hor does not dwell.
The section Richard had most carefully considered was none other than the fifth clause.
While it may be hard to distinguish the good, it is easy to recognize the wicked.
The Law he set was created for the distinction between good and evil.
‘Even so, it cannot make the separation perfect…’
The foremost function of the Law is to make one recognize sin as sin.
So that each may listen to their own conscience.
『The Law has been proclaimed to the Northern Continent.』
『The nature of the Law is close to Good.』
「The prayer of an unrepentant evil person will be harder to reach you, depending on their sins.」
「The prayer of a righteous person draws even closer to you.」
「The righteous will receive greater blessing and fortune.」
The system window filled Richard’s view.
As he slowly read the words, his expression turned subtly mysterious.
He too had not expected such effects.
***
Before long, the King’s speech was over.
It was decided that the Stone Tablet would be kept with special care by the Royal Family, after a conversation with Richard.
And that evening.
“Ever since I met the Saint, it’s been nothing but surprises. In all my life, I never imagined a Stone Tablet would fall out of the sky!”
The noble, York Count, who resembled a bandit, came to Richard holding a bottle of wine.
“It’s a shame Trantis Marquess couldn’t witness the sight himself. But he left for a great cause, so it can’t be helped.”
He was quite a talkative character.
In the end, Richard let York Count into the room, though he could only manage an awkward smile.
“So, what brings you here?”
“Oh right, I’ve come to deliver good news to you, Saint.”
“Good news?”
The Count grinned and handed over the wine.
He continued after pouring the wine into each other’s glass.
“A building is to be constructed in the capital for the Hor Church. If we set a fixed time each day to gather and pray there, wouldn’t that be beneficial for faith?”
Richard’s pupils widened slightly.
That meant, in effect, they were going to build a Temple for the Hor Church.
Those grand structures that symbolized religious power, present in every nation.
“Hor will surely be pleased.”
Richard spoke, forcing a twitching smile to steady.
“There’s quite a suitable place for it. But, since Baren’s political situation is not yet stable, it’ll take some time to begin construction.”
“Ah, I have a good idea about that.”
“Oh?”
“There are plenty of good workers nearby.”
Seeing the Count tilt his head, Richard took a sip of wine.
“For now, let’s just go all in.”
“What if you get turned down hard again, like last time?”
If we coax them slowly, it’ll work out somehow. Don’t forget! We’re Dwarves who humans are dying to serve!
The Dwarves gathered in the alley, whispering among themselves.
Having witnessed the Miracle, they no longer doubted the information given by the Lamp of Light.
The Lamp of Light was enough to solve their problems.
The question was, how much benefit they could get for as little cost as possible.
“You fools! Haven’t I told you? We can’t get away with just a single ‘Legendary Sword’ that was restored!”
“Chieftain! You don’t mean that seriously, do you? You must be crazy!”
Hurkeum’s face turned stiff as stone.
The clan members’ cold stares felt unjust.
“Even after seeing that light, you still doubt the legend? I felt it clearly—the ‘Legendary Sword’ responded in that very moment… Is there any proof more certain than that?”
He beat his chest, exasperated.
Normally, Hurkeum was a friendly and respected chief, but whenever the topic of the legend came up, he was treated like a crazy Dwarf.
“They’re looking at me like I’m mad again…”
Hurkeum was clicking his tongue in his mind when—
The clan members lowered their heads and opened their mouths.
“We know. The legend might actually be true. That’s why we’re saying this.”
“If it’s truly the legendary sword the chief’s been yearning for, how can we just hand it over? We need to keep it hidden for now, you foolish chief!”
Tears welled up in Hurkeum’s eyes.
“Sniff… you… you all!”
Overcome by emotion, Hurkeum embraced his clan members.
But this was not the right place to nurture the bonds of kin.
Clack—!
Suddenly, spear points emerged from somewhere, aimed at the Dwarves.
“By order of the Saint. People of the land and iron, Dwarves, follow our guidance.”
Led by Aaron, twenty Temple Knights surrounded them.
“…Damn. We’ve been caught.”
The Dwarves obediently raised their hands behind their heads.
Under the cold, sharp gazes of the Temple Knights, the criminals began to be led toward the Royal Castle.
“…Chief?”
‘Why sigh?’
“Look at the one posturing up front, check out his spear. Doesn’t it look like one of ours?”
At the words of the chief blacksmith, Lakan, Hurkeum narrowed his eyes and looked at Aaron’s spear.
After staring at it for a while as if appraising it, he finally spoke.
“It’s one of ours. ‘Usable Weapon’ quality, I’d say.”
A sly smile crept onto Hurkeum’s lips.
The Dwarves, rolling their eyes nervously, began to chuckle as well.
“It’s been oiled well, the blade’s sharp, and it’s clearly been treasured.”
“That’s a relief. Still, it’s just ‘usable weapon’ level.”
Exchanging glances, they breathed a sigh of relief.
Even at a glance, Aaron’s weapon—though wielded with impressive mastery—was only at the level of a ‘Usable Weapon.’
In other words, the Temple Knights’ arms weren’t all that impressive by their standards.
Of course, this was all according to their own criteria.
“With this, as long as we keep talking, it’ll be easier to trade than I thought. Maybe a thousand ‘good weapons’ will be enough?”
Hurkeum was deep in thought.
Before they knew it, they’d entered the Royal Castle.
From the pure white marble floor, a sacred energy could be felt.
“Keep walking.”
Urged on by the Temple Knights, the Dwarves strode down the corridor.
The further they went, the denser the sacred atmosphere grew.
And at the end, stood the Saint.
“I guess it wasn’t Dwarves I was talking to, but moles.”
It was a cutting criticism, barely fit for the Saint’s mouth.
Hurkeum’s beard trembled in response.
“Don’t be so prickly, human. I am Hurkeum, chieftain of the White Anvil Clan.”
“…Richard, Saint of the Hor Church.”
“Hm? That name sounds familiar.”
After a moment of doubt, Hurkeum quickly looked Richard over.
The aura and light flowing from his entire body were certainly befitting the title of Saint.
However, the weapon hanging at his waist was an eyesore.
Ice Crescendo.
From a Dwarf’s perspective, that sword was, at best, ‘usable’—a mediocre weapon.
“So you’re Richard. Your skill is immense, but your weapon doesn’t match.”
“I really dislike being judged.”
Screech.
A blade imbued with chill was drawn from the Saint’s waist.
“I can cut anything I need with this.”
Yet Hurkeum did not lose his composure, even with the blade right before his nose.
“I didn’t mean to provoke. I just think good warriors should use ‘good weapons.’”
“Exactly! All these humans here seem like good warriors, but their weapons are sorely lacking. You folks need some ‘good weapons,’ don’t you?”
The Dwarves, who had been standing quietly, nodded in agreement.
The Adam’s apples of the surrounding Temple Knights bobbed nervously.
“Yeah, you’re tempted, aren’t you? Just take the bait…”
The Dwarves had to desperately swallow their laughter.
Otherwise, their wicked snickers would surely have erupted.
Just then, Richard, as if suppressing a grin, stroked his chin and asked,
“Are you saying you’ll give us weapons?”
“That’s right. And you?”
“Help our White Anvil Clan live up to its name. That… white light, you see. If you could imbue our anvil and hammer with that light, it would be enough.”
Richard gave a soft laugh.
That much seemed easy to him.
But it was Hurkeum who was growing impatient.
He had a long-held wish.
“If you imbue the anvil and hammer with light—‘good weapons,’ a hundred! And if you bless a place of my choosing with that light for a month—‘good weapons,’ a thousand! How about it, human?”
He couldn’t hold back his impatience after all.
The excited voice burst from Hurkeum’s throat.
But Richard frowned.
“Are you playing games again?”
“W-what?”
Sacred light clung to Richard’s body, and in an instant, the surroundings filled with holy pressure.
Wooo—
Wooooo—
From the bundle Aaron had confiscated, a strange hum emerged.
Richard’s gaze turned in that direction.
“Ah, ah! That—!”
Hurkeum waved his hands, face gone pale, but it was already too late.
Ugh, damn
A pitifully rusted sword, pulled by Richard’s hand.
The sword let out a mournful cry.
“I was going to let it slide, but your greed went too far, White Anvil Clan.”
“This is how it should be. One restored ‘Legendary Sword,’ a thousand ‘good weapons,’ ten thousand ‘usable weapons.’ And repairs to Riot Castle’s walls, plus one splendid building.”
“H-how did you—”
The Dwarves’ fingertips trembled.
In contrast, Richard’s smile grew ever darker.
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