The Nebula's Civilization

Chapter 273: A People Problem

-Then you will meet the same fate as the others.

-…This is the only way.

Jeolyo knew what Sha-Cha referred to as ‘the only way.’ It meant utilizing the system.

In the system, there was a skill called Hierophany, but for the evil gods, it was the power to reveal their true forms, which had been restricted. The Hierophanies of the evil gods were strong.

They had been unrivaled every time they used Hierophany on the planet. Even Dragons and the old gods attempted and failed to stop the evil gods when they used the skill to come down to the land.

But the new gods were different. Bwel and Jeol Woo-Bi never imagined they would suffer such a fate.

Sha-Cha lamented, ‘If only I had gathered more power. If only I had watched them more and learned more.’

Jeolyo spoke.

-We cannot defeat them.

Sha-Cha turned around.

-I never thought we could win. The only thing that will bring us victory is the second moon Loom, and all this is just a plan for Loom. When Loom arrives, we will win.

The blob of slime slightly quivered.

-…My old friend…

At the word ‘friend,’ Sha-Cha shuddered.

In the past, there had been more of them. But not anymore. Only despairing results remained.

Even the second moon Loom, which they had believed in until the end, had been exposed. For now, they couldn’t imagine how the Pantheon would counter Loom, but the Pantheon had achieved the impossible several times before. They were the real monsters.

-Do you truly believe in the claim that we will win when Loom arrives?

-….

-…You don’t have confidence.

The blob of slime continued.

-…Even if Loom arrives on time, having observed them for a long time, we know their power and understand we can make no certain claims.

Sha-Cha asked.

-So, what then?

-Let’s leave everything to Loom and the one who activates it.

-And us? .𝒎

Jeolyo replied.

-Let’s hide and flee.

-….

-Loom has already been contacted. They have forgiven us. Until the new gods can no longer track us, until the last of the last, until all remaining monuments are dismantled, there is still time. Until then…

-…Is that our end?

Jeolyo didn’t answer for a long time, but eventually spoke, before it was too late.

-Yes. That is our end.

-…I don’t like it.

-We must accept it.

-…I don’t want to die.

-I know. But, my old friend, don’t you know….

Jeolyo trembled slightly.

-Our children will survive.

-….

-They are monsters, yes. But, right. They are monsters who will do anything for victory. But at least they chose a different path than the old gods.

-I know that.

Jeolyo said.

-We have lost, and we must accept it.

-…Okay.

There could have been more daring acts. In their Hierophany form, Sha-Cha believed they could achieve better results than communicating through the unpleasant process known as the system.

‘But…’

The enemies, the Pantheon, would surely have anticipated that. They believed themselves strong, but the new gods of the Pantheon were much, much stronger. If unlucky, they could be overpowered without even realizing how it happened and become vassals. Then they would just remain as relics of the past, turned into statues, and consumed as trophies by them.

-So we can’t even resist that terrible end?

Jeolyo affirmed.

-Yes. For us, and not even for the enemies, but because our children are still there.

Sha-Cha closed the system window and looked down at the landscape of Orazen for a long time, until the sun rose again.

The two evil gods had already concealed themselves.

***

“He is busy these days.”

The owner of the Pantheon, Night Sky, did not keep a personal messenger. There was various talk among the players about this. According to Eldar, ‘He likes to do everything himself,’ which many agreed with, but according to Lunda, ‘He sees everyone else as his messengers,’ which also received many affirmatives.

Even Night Sky had something similar to a messenger, a creation named Bion. Bion was made quite a long time ago and was not so much a servant to Night Sky but something of a butler, taking on the role of overseeing various miscellaneous tasks in the pantheon. However, due to this role, Bion often found itself in a position where it was the most frequent listener of Night Sky’s words, and thus was generally perceived as Night Sky’s messenger.

In front of Bion, who was in a black robe with a hood pulled over, was the player Redmars. Redmars, wearing a black suit with a head shaped like the red planet Mars as suggested by their ID, was not particularly good at playing the game The Lost World and had hardly participated in rank games.

As a result, Redmars was one of the players who quickly dropped out of the first continental unification war. Redmars themself was puzzled about how they ended up here, but they believed they had adapted well and was enjoying their time. They didn’t particularly dislike any of the Pantheon players, and they appreciated Nebula’s decision to resurrect all the players that had become vassals, even if it was somewhat forced. Therefore, Redmars was eager to do their best in many things for the Pantheon. But recently, there had been a problem.

“Is he in the Sanctuary though?”

“You can meet him if you go there.”

There were no restrictions on players meeting each other. Rules could’ve been established, but Nebula chose not to. However, being able to meet freely was a separate issue.

Redmars muttered, “But he’ll get annoyed.”

“…Annoyed, um, regarding the choice of words…I should think about it…but, yes, he might be annoyed.”

“When is his schedule free?”

“I don’t really know that…”

“And you don’t know what he’s doing in the Sanctuary?”

“I know it’s related to the moon-facing plan.”

“Of course, there’s no other reason to be cooped up there. Do you know any specifics?”

“Um… I’m sorry.”

Redmars felt slightly sorry. Redmars was almost unaware of it themself, but Divinity levels imposed a burden on all other beings. Redmars’ personal Divinity level was lower in the Pantheon, but even that put an immense gap between them and all non-player entities.

Bion stammered, “He does call me sometimes. If you tell me the details, I might be able to give you a heads-up when I’m summoned to the sanctuary.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s because of the moon-facing plan.”

“Is that so?”

As Bion seemed interested, Redmars asked, “Oh, can you help me with something?”

“Me?”

Redmars could easily resolve the issue by asking Nebula, but due to organizational politics, direct communication with Nebula was not easy. Redmars wasn’t poorly regarded within the Pantheon, but they weren’t highly regarded either.

‘The Pantheon has its own hierarchy, even if it doesn’t seem like it.’

Redmars had mapped out the hierarchy among the gods, apostles, and other messengers of the Pantheon in their mind. Nebula was naturally at the top, followed by Wisdom, and below them were players with skills or good reputations. This hierarchy was evident in the degree of speaking rights and acceptance of opinions during meetings. Redmars themself was quite low in this hierarchy.

‘People always end up forming hierarchies when they come together. I don’t think it’s bad. I just feel the need to improve myself.’

Redmars looked at Bion.

‘If it’s hard to approach the top authority, why not ask someone close to them?’

Redmars was proud of their idea and asked Bion, “Do you have some time?”

“Pardon?”

Redmars almost dragged Bion along to a meeting room and showed Bion a status screen.

“Well, it’s nothing much, but hear me out.”

What Redmars showed Bion was a neatly organized chart and graph. Naturally, Bion could not understand any of it. The numbers were even in Arabic numerals. Bion had learned Earth’s languages to a certain extent and could read them, but was more familiar with the language of the Pantheon.

“What is this?”

“Do I have to start the explanation from the beginning? Let’s look at it one by one. This is the import-export statistics for the imperial territories, this is on the currency circulation, this page is about the corporations of the world…”

“…Even if you explain like that, I don’t understand.”

Redmars summarized simply, “This is the true face of the Empire.”

“The true face?”

“The Empire operates on a capitalist system.”

Bion seemed to ponder about the new perspective they had not known before. On the other hand, this was a common understanding for Redmars, who had worked in the financial sector.

Bion asked, “What is the problem?”

“These two areas on the graph, don’t they look strange?”

Bion decided to accept everything Redmars said. Whether they understood it or not, they just kept nodding their head. Sometimes this was necessary when dealing with players.

“The flow is not good. It’s tangled.”

“What does tangled mean?”

“Money needs to keep flowing for a market to be healthy, right? Until recently, the flow was very good. It’s natural. Who wouldn’t want to participate in a global event like the moon-facing plan? Even secularists and environmentalists previously obstructing this flow were persuaded, transforming not just the Empire but the entire Avartin into an organic entity. It was great. Honestly, I don’t know if this is a word that should be used to describe a market, but it was perfect. Beautiful, even.”

Redmars’ tone rose slightly in frustration.

“Recently, however, investments have slowed down, scheduled payments are being delayed, and production has decreased. It’s only been a few months, but the market isn’t as vibrant as before.”

Redmars seemed to suggest that there was some interference, and in Bion’s mind, there weren’t many factors that could disrupt the Pantheon.

“Could it be another evil god’s…?”

That would be a serious problem. If there was another enemy, it would disrupt the Pantheon’s current plans, including the moon-facing plan.

However, Redmars firmly said, “No, it’s not that. It’s just a people problem. Specifically, a problem of capitalism. People think, ‘Why invest my money if everything will be alright anyway? Should I really be investing?

And then there are those who are just digging their own graves by building bunkers on their own, or those who decide to save first out of anxiety. But that’s not how it should be. For the moon-facing plan, the gods of the Pantheon are all making their plans, which involves Faith points, but most importantly, it involves money.”

Bion finally grasped the weight of Redmars’ words.

“…So it’s a very important issue.”

“Yes. That’s why I thought I should talk to Nebula about it.”

“Oh, um… Hm.”

But it was true that Sung-Woon was busy, and although not openly discussed, Sung-Woon had asked Bion not to call him unless necessary.

‘Such an important matter at this time…’

Redmars said, “Should I meet with Wisdom? But Wisdom is busy too.”

“That’s true.”

“Or should I just deal with it on my own?”

“Actually, as part of the moon-facing plan, I think it would be alright for you to act at your discretion, but…”

Redmars crossed their arms and pondered. Redmars thought of themself as close to an ordinary citizen. They wanted to do a good job but was afraid of taking responsibility if things went wrong.

Bion recognized this fact in Redmars. Being in the Pantheon for a long time made it easy for Bion to understand the players’ tendencies.

Bion suddenly had an idea and looked up. “Oh.”

“What?”

“It’s not a solution, but I know someone who might be able to help.”

“Who?”

“Have you met the eleventh apostle?”

Redmars paused for a moment.

‘Who was that again?’

There were now over thirty apostles in the Pantheon. Many players were distant with them depending on their relations.

Bion noticed. ‘Redmars doesn’t know who it is.’

Bion understood. Most players didn’t pay attention to what was outside their areas of interest, and the Pantheon was large.

Bion thought they might have found an answer.

Bion took the lead and said, “They will be helpful. Please, follow me.”

Redmars trusted Bion and followed. The butler of the Pantheon, Bion, and the player Redmars could move around by folding space.

A few seconds later, the eleventh apostle, Hwee-Kyung, who was enjoying refreshments in her room, was startled by the sudden appearance of player Redmars.

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