Chapter #11 — First Worshipper, Shatia the First State

Interested in getting a firsthand impression of the Sharrï’s thriving civilization,

I was just about to teleport into their City when I felt boney fingers grabbing the sleeve of my toga.

“Hey, where are you heading off to?”

I blinked and replied, “I’m heading to Shatia… The First City of the Sharrï.”

She asked, “Mind if I tag along?”

Even though most of her face looked worn out from the Undeath Energy, she still managed to appear charmingly clueless in my eyes.

Not in a non-romantic way, of course.

It’s similar to how grandparents on Earth always find their grandkids cute, even if those kids would’ve been considered circus material for being overweight back in the 60’s.

Granted, Häel’s was anything but overweight, considering she’s a literal set of bones and all. “You can’t…”

“Why?”

The Lich asked, oozing of innocence.

“Because you no longer belong there.”

People always claimed that appearance didn’t matter, but I knew the truth.

In reality, appearance held so much weight because, whether we liked it or not, everyone judged a book by its cover.

Considering Häel’s appearance, I doubted she would make it past the gate.

They probably wouldn’t even allow her within a 20-mile radius of their settlement.

I could intervene and separate the Law of Undeath from her, leaving it to wait until someone else came along to claim it.

However… I couldn’t shake the feeling that Häel was the best fit for it. After all, there was no guarantee that the next person would be as magnanimous or friendly as she was.

I’d be shooting myself in the foot if the next Inheritor turned out to be a power-hungry savage with an inflated ego.

What made Paradis, and all worlds for that matter, fascinating was the diverse range of creatures and cultures coexisting on the same planet. The thought of a Lich conquering the entirety of Paradis and turning everyone and everything into Undead seemed dreadfully dull and soul-sucking…

On a different note, I wondered why the Creators had not created Farm-Verse?

The idea of an entire Universe solely focused on generating Conceptual Energy seemed quite appealing, especially to someone with capitalist mindset like myself.

‘Crap, capitalism has infected me.’

It had seeped so deep it’s practically engraved in my Soul in a way not even Godhood itself could fix. Häel’s words snapped me out of my thoughts, “How do I belong?”

“Do you really want to belong?”

Again, I returned her question with one myself. The Lich pondered for a moment, before finally confessing, “Not really, but loneliness is rather unpleasant…”

“No argument here,” I murmured.

In the 21st century, loneliness and isolation ranked among the most agonizing forms of pain. They silently, yet relentlessly, preyed upon people of all age range and group… A killer that was ever silent.

“Nevertheless,” Softly, I added. “You must endure.”

Loneliness is an inevitable part of life.

The mortals entered the world alone, and eventually, they shall depart from it in the same way. Friendships faded, love dissipated. It was better to acquaint oneself with loneliness from a young age than to be ill-prepared to face its challenges later in life.

“The more daunting issue is the absence of purpose and guidance.” Raising my hand, I pointed somewhere in the distant, where the Valley of Pleasure laid. “Towards the South lives a Goddess… The Lady of Obsession and Pleasure. Seek her out, worship her as your teacher, and perchance you will discover your true calling.”

To address the Flesh-Flayer’s turbulent emotional state, I directed her to Inana, who preached the values of Detachment.

As for the Lich with dampened emotions, I suggested seeking guidance from the Goddess of Obsession and Exes. What could possibly go wrong? I chuckled mischievously.

“Will it truly help?” Häel inquired, seeking reassurance. I shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s a 50/50 chance. A teacher can provide guidance, but ultimately, your fate rests in the hands of nobody except yourself.”

Häel tilted her head, her expression curious. “Then why can’t I worship you as a teacher instead?” I chuckled awkwardly, feeling slightly caught off guard. “Because, my dear, I am a fool with nothing worthwhile to teach.”

“But I want to learn from you,”

Häel persisted, her fingers latching onto my sleeve tightly. I attempted to gently pry her off, but she clung on with stubborn determination. “I’ve already told you, I have nothing to teach you,” I insisted.

“Lies,” Häel declared, her voice firm and unwavering as she leaped on my back, boney legs locking around my waist. “You are special, I can tell.”

Curiously, I observed that my Aura remained muted, a deliberate choice on my part,

Similar to how ancient rulers would disguise themselves to understand their Kingdom better, without drawing attention.

Yet, in spite of my effort to conceal my Aura, the Lich seemed to sense my… Uniqueness.

Was this the renowned ‘womanly intuition’ often spoken of in legends?

Or was it an ‘imprinting’ situation, where baby birds decided the first thing they saw was their parent, regardless of the physical impossibility?

One could say that Häel was a newborn, and since I was the first person to show kindness towards her, Häel might see me as a parental figure. It’s amusing to think that I used to mock the Olympians for their infamous Family Circle, yet here I was, taking care of my… ‘Grandchild’ as a responsible father should.

Although, considering that Häel had merged with the Law of Undeath and been completely remodeled by it, I supposed one could consider her my child as well.

It’s all quite perplexing.

I honestly found myself wondering how the Olympians managed such complicated relationships. “… I’ll allow you to stay with me for some time, but you must set out on your own when I tell you to, understood?” As a wiseman once said: ‘The Truth lies somewhere in the middle.’

I had found such thinking worked wonderfully for me thus far, hence it’s also my solution, which was to compromise. Abandoning her would be pretty shitty of me, for unlike Lilianna who’s already mature and desired repentance, Häel instead needed education.

A set of ideals for her to center her sense of self upon;

Someone she could call family, and I just happened to fill out all the criteria! “Why do I have to leave?”

“Every child has to leave their home at some point, whether it’s to find success or to uncover their true purpose,” I explained.

“All children?” She questioned, as if to express her disapproval.

“Yes, all children,” I repeated.

“Even a Lich…?”

Häel queried as one of her eyeball rolled out of the socket, revealing a purple flame flickering behind its decaying exterior.

“Especially a Lich,”

I affirmed, then repeated in a serious tone. “Especially the Lich. But that’s a problem for another day, for now…”

With a clap of my hands, a flash enveloped Häel in a bright, yet comforting light. The Lich barely had anytime to act when another layer of flesh grew around her skeletal frame. “Ah… I’m back to normal again! Does this mean I’m no longer a Lich?”

“Fret not, you’re still one.” I patted the soft, lustrous hair on her head and marveled at what I could accomplish with Divinity. “What you see now is an Illusion crafted by my Magic. Without me besides you, it’d fade in hours.”

With my influence, the Law of Undeath was forbidden from causing decay to her, but it’s a stopgap measure at best. “Come…” I gestured with my hands, “We’re walking.”

The Lich showed no reluctance as we set off into the forest surrounding the First State of Shatia. It’s a nice place the Sharrï had chosen to place their capital… The Palewood was an extraordinarily resilient breed that’s fireproof. It’s a location that was easy to defend, yet due to the size of the Palewood Forest, should an invader come with their army the Sharrï could not defeat, retreat was always an option.

‘Although…’

I looked at the fertile Midland; the ginormous structures littering its vast expanse and thought, ‘I doubt they would agree to leave.’ The Sharrï, arrogant as they were, struck me as the type to hold the line until the last of them were made to lie with the worms.

Their arrogance ran deep within the Sharrï, rooted in the belief that they were inherently superior to all other species on Paradis.

And to be fair, they had some justification for their thinking. Apart from the Paradiseans and myself, there were no other beings capable of standing up against them, with the exception of the First Murderer who was in her maddening search for redemption–something she’d only find if she turned inwards,

And the adorably clueless Lich shadowing me, fearful I’d leave her to the wolves.

“Who are you?!”

A crude branch, lacking a blade and just about everything that made a weapon which they clearly hadn’t bothered to sharpen with Magic, abruptly struck the ground just inches away from my big toe.

This was ultimately why we denied the Sharrï’s the First Weapon, for as they had never faced a foe capable of overpowering them physically or magically, they never felt the need to enter an arm-race…

Never had to sharpened themselves against anyone or anything;

I had seen the threats from miles away, long before they revealed themselves, though I supposed I could amuse them.

Raising my gaze, unimpressed, I stared at the Sharrï warriors who brandished their weapons. “Have you two gone blind in both eyes? I am one of your brethren!”

“Show us proof!” they demanded.

Suppressing a grumble, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the two concealed Sharrï figures amidst the trees.

“What on earth do you mean– Fine, damn it!” With a mere mental command, I effortlessly created the Sharrï equivalent of an ID card, a clay tablet embedded with a Vault Crystal that powered a holographic display of the Sharrï’s gender, age, place of origin, and just about everything of importance.

What caught me off guard, however, was the absence of language in the hologram.

Despite their proclaimed superiority, it seemed they had never considered the necessity of creating a written language.

Instead, their devices relied solely on projected images.

“How fascinating,” I remarked, genuinely surprised.

“What about her?”

I sighed as they pointed towards the Lich.

At least I could be assured the Sharrï were taking their security seriously.

Suppressing a grimace, I discreetly created another Identification Tablet and placed it in Häel’s pocket. Sadly, she couldn’t understand my gestures, which immediately raised the two guards’ suspicion. “What’s wrong with her?”

I laughed, “Oh, no worry! She just entered the Jellyfish Mountain!”

Located fifty miles East from here, it’s a place where the peaceful Golden Jellyfishes would float their days away,

It’s also a… Let’s say, Paradise for junkies.

It was not my intention to make those mushrooms hallucinogenic, I swear! In fact, these mushrooms would instead induce a calming sensation to every other species, but the Sharrï, who just became cocaine-snorting berserkers for a brief period.

Unfortunately, these Jellyfishes, after a prolonged period of exposure to the mushrooms, even turning them into an important source of nourishment, had taken on certain… Properties. The good news was: They seemed perfectly content with staying in their little corner in the world, else we’d have the Sharrï wreaking everything. “That place’s forbidden!”

“It’s an order from the High Lord.”

There were quite a few such Lords and Ladies in Shatia… All of whom were Mages tasked with important responsibilities like logistic and wasting away on their furred bed, waiting for their food to be delivered. I lowered my voice, whispering to them, “Apparently it is needed for one of his experiments.”

Usually, nobody would buy such an excuse without proper proofs, fortunately the Sharrï were very new to the concept of lying… “She’s pretty–”

The most they had committed was a lie by omission, which I dared argue wasn’t a lie at all. “No, we get it.” One of the guards said, and the other nodded. “We have been sent there once. We know what those damned Jellyfishes are capable of…”

He shuddered at the thoughts, then gestured. “You may pass. Ræne will escort you into the City.”

Once that chaotic situation was resolved, we were escorted into the City by the guards. The entrance was cleverly concealed by a circle of trees enchanted to deceive anyone attempting unauthorized entry. The trees, half-alive, would beguile the minds and lead anyone who wasn’t taken by a guard with a special Token to circle the Palewood Forest until they succumbed to hunger, thirst or something else.

Even Orion’s beasts, once they had entered, would share the same fate.

As for me, I hadn’t even realized the trees were spelled, since my vision couldn’t be affected by Magic of this magnitude… ‘Oops?’

“This is as far as I can bring you,” Ræne pointed at the road paved with stones perfectly aligned, before patting us on the shoulder. “You two seem green…” The guard muttered, then tapped on the road with her double-jointed hooves.

“Continue straight ahead. Do not stray from the road.”

I nodded in affirmation as she took off in the trees.

“I must return to work now.” Ræne bowed, before deciding to… ‘Remind’ me. “If possible, please put in the good words for me. If you could get the High Lord to notice me, I’d not mistreat you in the future.”

“Understood!”

I agreed, even though I didn’t personally know a High Lord. While I was aware of their existence, I had deliberately kept my distance from them and their politics. I believed it was for Ræne’s own good as well. The world of politicians was a treacherous one, doubly so for a magical one.

Someone as straightforward as her would struggle to navigate its intricacies, swallowed until naught but bones were left. Her ambitions would be her downfall.

As Ræne departed, the Lich’s voice echoed in my ear. “I don’t like those people.”

I responded, undeterred, “Where we’re headed, we’ll encounter many of them.”

But the Lich remained firm in her dislike. “I know, but those people in silks were mean.”

“They had to, my dear.” I responded. “They’re the Sharrï’s first line of defense. If they were negligent in their duties, it’s them who would be punished.”

“Did they really have to throw things at us?”

Häel pouted, clearly still upset about the encounter.

“It’s called deterrence,”

I patiently explained as we stepped into Shatia.

Back in the day, I couldn’t afford the latest Triple-A releases, but my trusty PC could handle the first two Total War games—pirated, of course. I wasn’t particularly skilled at them, but playing real-time strategy games had left me with some beneficial and detrimental traits. One such trait was constantly checking the map for objectives and interesting new tidbits. I had

Shatia wasn’t unfamiliar to me… I had watched while they laid in the first bricks; observed as more and more buildings sprouted from what was once lifeless forest, to what it was now from above. But nothing beat being in the City in person. The air’s fresh, filled with the scents of foods—meat from their hunts being grilled, decorated with the concentrated Water of Life as sauces.

The Sharrï society operated on a primitive caste system. At the apex were the Mages, who held dual roles as lawmakers and were attributed with great wisdom.

Below them were the Elite Guards,

Followed by servants and representatives from smaller settlements within the Palewood Forest.

Further down the ladder were guards like Ræne; scouts who explored new territories and documented their findings; the hunters, and builders who were frequently sent out to claim new areas and build the monuments which’re quite literally sucking the Life out of Paradis.

Nobody would get to taste these foods except for the upper echelons,

The rest were made to drink the Water of Life directly to sustain themselves.

The Sharrï’s social rating, as calculated by Will, was remarkably low.

While the idea of uprising had not yet been entertained by most Sharrï members, it was only a matter of time before discontent reached a point of no return.

Currently, the Universal Will supported the Pleiguseans, but it was the powerful Sharrï civilization that held the ruling position, causing a gradual erosion of ‘Will’.

However, if an uprising were to occur, their power would diminish significantly, allowing the Universal Will to regain a foothold. Once that happened, it’d probably retaliate in the forms of natural disasters. Funnily enough, despite the disadvantages it’s at, the thought to ask for my help had never crossed the Will’s coding.

It wanted to impress me…

Hence this deadlock.

Once upon a time, I would have deemed such an act immoral.

But, in Paradis, Reincarnation was woven—seared into the very fabric of existence.

Death, as Dumbledore professed, was merely another grand adventure, and as such, I found it challenging to summon any sympathy if the Sharrï perished due to their hubris.

Even the passing of my Whiskerian student to old age evoked a sense of sorrow only because Lysara opted for genetic memory over a soul.

Feeling a mischievous impulse took hold of me, a smile played across my lips.

Without hesitation, I boldly stepped forward, snatching a large hind leg for myself.

A voice called out, “Stop! Those are for the High Lords!” Ignoring the warning, I took a deliberate bite out of the stolen piece, a smirk adorning my face.

“High Lords? Who are they, to enjoy the fruits of our labor while leaving us with scraps?!"