Volume 6 Chapter 63 First Divine Punishment
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
After leaving the royal capital behind, the road quickly turned rough. Though the signposts claimed it was still a town road, it looked like no one had maintained it in years. The cargo wagon rattled violently, like it might fall apart at any moment.
I’m a horse, so it’s not that bad for me. The horses here are like Dosanko from Hokkaido—tough and used to bad roads. I used to think summoning an Earth-bred thoroughbred would be cheating, but with terrain like this, they might not even last.
Still, this is too much. Is it because the route leads toward the frontier? Even Toyata Village is far off… Come to think of it, unpaved roads were pretty terrible before pavement became common. Road maintenance costs money. If there’s no one to fund or manage it, the whole thing gets abandoned.
Even Roman roads didn’t last forever, but with this low traffic, they might hold up for a hundred years.
The real problem is the wagon wheels. Wood alone doesn’t wear down easily, but the metal-reinforced ones aren’t built for this. Developing rubber tires should be a top priority.
The wagon drivers, though, don’t seem to mind. They bounce with the bumps, barely reacting. Getting used to this is… unsettling.
The barrels inside shift with every jolt, some rolling slightly. One wrong bump and they could split. Still, they’ve held up better than expected. Barrels are stronger than I gave them credit for.
They’re all filled with my personal supplies now, so I don’t need to worry too much.
It doesn’t seem like the drivers are trying to break anything—they’re just being sloppy. If the barrels did break, would that count as negligence? If I were the employer, would I complain? Demand compensation? Probably not… but I definitely wouldn’t hire them again.
Maybe that’s why they don’t get regular jobs. They slip into shady work and go rogue.
Technically, I’m their client, so I should tell them to restack the barrels properly. But will they listen? Probably not. They’ve been ignoring me from the start. Even in a class-based world, status means little. They clearly see me as someone beneath notice.
I once saw a noble child, not even ten, ordering hardened thugs in the capital like they were pets. Maybe that’s the power of noble blood? Or maybe their parents were terrifying enough to back it up.
I hate punishing people. I really do. I don’t like conflict—doesn’t matter if they’re strong or weak. No… it’s worse when they’re weaker. Arrogant weaklings are the most annoying type. Could that be what the bearded guy is counting on?
Still, I have to speak up. What’s wrong is wrong. If they use force, then I’ll respond in kind. If they make themselves my enemy, that makes things simpler.
Ugh. My stomach’s turning. The stress is getting to me.
I spotted a decent rest area off the road and decided to take a short break. Orders to rest are the only ones they seem to follow.
”Take a break here. Before we leave, make sure to properly restack the barrels that shifted along the way,” I said, forcing the words out.
Even though I finally spoke up, no one responded. I’m sure they heard me. They just chose to ignore it.
To make matters worse, the leader casually popped open a barrel of ale and started drinking. Tampering with cargo like that would usually get you executed on the spot.
He knows that—and he’s doing it anyway. He’s trying to provoke me.
The man had a jagged scar across his cheek, his expression twisted into something deliberately intimidating. He looked more like a bandit chief than a proper driver. If I were still new to this world, I might’ve cried right there.
But strangely enough, I felt fine. He looked scary, sure, but it was like watching a villain in a movie. Maybe it’s thanks to Uno and Mr. Escalion’s brutal training. My fear tolerance has definitely changed. Being able to read someone’s strength at a glance makes a difference.
I could probably beat him in eight out of ten fights. The two losses would be if he pulled off something unexpected.
Of course, tampering with military goods is a serious offense. The barrels are my property now, so technically it’s not an issue… but still, it doesn’t sit right with me. Can I really overlook this?
”Hey, what’s your problem, kid?” the man growled, leaning back with the barrel in hand. “Military this, military that—who cares? Out here, I make the rules. I ain’t bowing down to some noble brat.”
He’s really trying to get under my skin. But breaking military rules isn’t just defying me—it’s spitting in the face of the Holy Kingdom. He’s going too far.
He probably thinks he can get away with it because it’s me. He’s underestimating me.
If I don’t put him in his place here, everyone else will follow his lead. Is this part of Baron Beard’s scheme too?
”What’s wrong?” the man sneered. “Need your guards to fight for you? Tch. Pathetic.”
Ah—wait. I could order the knights to restrain him… but most of them have been bought off, haven’t they?
Somehow, this punishment turned into a challenge. This guy’s no idiot—he knows how to push back.
Fine then. If I want to set an example, maybe I should take an arm. If I go easy, he’ll just keep pushing. If he dies, then so be it.
The moment I made that decision, my mind cleared. My breath cooled. I was calm.
That’s the most important thing in a fight—keeping calm.
I’ve already measured his strength. As long as I don’t mess up, I’ll win.
But the enemy isn’t just the one in front of me. Mr. Escalion warned me about that.
If I take him down, will the others jump in? No, they won’t. I have the authority. If they attack, it becomes rebellion.
Wait—if I punish him now, I’ll lose the bet with Baron Beard. I’ll be admitting the barrels were stolen. The canal rights will vanish.
That’s it. That’s what the beard is after. This man’s just a pawn… a clown sent to trigger me.
Forget it. Even if they mock me, I’ll settle this peacefully. If it comes to a duel, I’ll fight the Baron himself.
”You’re doing this job too, aren’t you?” I asked, facing the man. “You swore to Hortus, god of contracts. So stop talking nonsense and do what’s right. It’s not too late to make it right.”
The barrel he drank from was mine. A reward, meant for those who do honest work.
”Hah! You really believe in gods?” he laughed, lifting the barrel. “Hortus makes me sick! Just hearing the name pisses me off!”
He raised the barrel with one hand and guzzled it down. His strength was real—but he had no technique. Just brute force. He wasn’t a trained fighter.
Good thing I didn’t respond with violence. Fighting him would feel like bullying someone helpless.
The other drivers laughed, and the bribed knights stood around, watching me carefully. They thought I was scared.
If it were Mr. Escalion here, he’d handle it smoothly. I could feel my lack of experience.
Still… does this man hate Hortus that much? To speak so openly against a god…
”Guhah!”
Before I could process it, the man crumpled. The very barrel he lifted crushed him.
Showing off only to collapse under the weight—how foolish. A barrel filled with ale should weigh close to a hundred kilos. Lifting it with one hand was a mistake.
Ale spilled everywhere. What a waste. I picked up the fallen barrel out of reflex. I train regularly, so lifting this was easy.
Maybe a strength contest would’ve been better than a fight. Something more peaceful. Even tough guys respect raw power like that.
I lifted it up with one hand—easier than I expected. But no one was watching anymore.
”Jamil… your face…”
One of the drivers gasped. So the scarred man’s name was Jamil?
Jamil crouched, his expression twisted—not in anger, but shame. He looked… old. Wrinkles crept across his skin, forming rapidly.
No… wait. He is aging. Right before our eyes.
Everyone around froze in horror.
”Divine punishment! Jamil was stealing, and Hortus cursed him!”
The cry rang out from one of the coachmen, and panic erupted.
The unbribed knights remained calm, but those with guilty hearts were visibly shaken.
The more guilt, the more fear of punishment.
Jamil, now nothing more than a shriveled old man, kept muttering to himself in a faint voice. I couldn’t tell if he even understood what had happened to him.
The coachmen—and even the knights who had come with me—were throwing themselves to the ground, sobbing and confessing their sins. It wasn’t quite a full prostration, but close enough. I could feel how they were pouring their sincerity into it, apologizing with everything they had.
For some reason, I ended up being the one to hear their confessions. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but I listened anyway. Maybe it’s part of the job. Though honestly, I’m neither a priest nor a judge.
They were so terrified of divine wrath, they started spilling everything without anyone asking. Just like that, the entire plot of the Bearded Baron was laid bare.
As I suspected, the coachmen were his men all along—helping him from the shadows, causing trouble. I figured they’d crack easily if pushed, but this was beyond expectations. If the rest of the court nobles are anything like him, then maybe the Holy Kingdom really does need to be torn down and rebuilt from scratch.
The knights confessed too—about turning a blind eye to theft, about letting Gorigan’s plans proceed unchecked. I already knew most of it, but they came clean on their own, seeking some kind of relief. Selfish, honestly.
That sudden divine punishment triggered all of this.
But they misunderstood something important. Jamil wasn’t struck down because he was evil. It was because he blasphemed God.
A direct offense against divinity.
In a world where gods truly exist, you can’t speak carelessly about them. Whether it’s Greek or Japanese mythology, gods often have very human emotions—they get angry, too. The gods of this world are probably no different.
”Please forgive me, sir,” one of the coachmen cried, trembling. “I’ll change my ways! I’ll live honestly from now on! Just please, don’t shorten my life!”
Huh? Why are they begging me?
This is bad. They think I can grant them forgiveness or something like that. But I don’t have that kind of authority. If I say something reckless, I might be the next one to get smitten.
It’s only right to honor the gods, but if you don’t know how the rituals work, it’s dangerous to get involved blindly.
Hortus—the guardian god of contracts—is pretty well-known, so even commoners understand the basics. Swearing in his name is like making a sacred promise. In Japan, too, you’d hear people in dramas say things like “Let the gods bear witness.” That part makes sense.
But what Jamil did… that was a different matter. It was more like a sin of irreverence. In those cases, what can you even do?
Apparently, he had been mocking the gods for a long time—through words, through actions—but until now, nothing had happened. So why strike him now? That part’s a mystery.
I had felt someone watching for a while. Maybe Hortus had been observing the whole time… and when Jamil crossed the line, judgment came.
From now on, I need to tread more carefully.
”If you all start living sincerely from now on,” I said slowly, “then that alone would be a wonderful thing.”
It’s just a general statement. I didn’t say anything strange… right?
”Will God Hortus forgive us?” someone asked, eyes wide with hope.
Wait—don’t say the god’s name so casually! That kind of gaze makes it hard to say yes or no. Either answer could twist the will of the divine.
”Thou shalt not take the name of God in vain.”
I remembered that line from a scripture I once overheard at the Grand Temple. It means to respect God deeply. Please, stop saying His name! I could still feel that divine presence prickling at my back!
The rough men were creeping closer, their eyes wet with tears. What is this? Are they really that desperate for salvation? I understood their feelings, but still—it felt so self-serving.
”Those who do not forget gratitude shall be forgiven,” I said.
It was a phrase I had heard often. Visit the temple a few times and it sticks in your mind whether you want it to or not. I wasn’t exactly a temple regular, but after a few meetings with the cardinal, I’d picked up a few things. I didn’t really understand the deeper meanings, but I figured gratitude was important.
That one word—”forgiven”—seemed to ease their hearts. Little by little, they started to calm down.
Nothing else happened. I breathed out slowly. Maybe… maybe I was spared.
Some of the men touched their own faces in disbelief, checking that they hadn’t aged like Jamil. When they found no change, they cried from relief.
Jamil, meanwhile, kept muttering in a daze. His muscles had withered, his bones were hollow. He was so light, I picked him up with one hand and tossed him into the lead carriage’s cargo hold.
God had spared his life. That alone was enough. Any further punishment wasn’t needed.
If the others saw what became of him, they’d probably think twice before getting involved in anything shady again. His appearance would serve as a perfect warning… or so I thought.
* * *
After witnessing the divine punishment, the drivers started acting strange. Even the knights were behaving differently.
It was as if they had been reborn—like their hearts had flipped, and they were now trying to become good people.
If it were just fear, that’d be easier to understand. But this? They were sincerely repenting. And honestly, that scared me more.
I knew, in theory, how terrifying faith could be. But to see it unfold so suddenly, turning people who were mocking the divine into pure believers… it felt like they’d been brainwashed. It gave me chills.
Maybe because they’d never been exposed to religion before, the shock of it hit them that much harder. They plunged right in, no hesitation.
And I realized… In this world, religion doesn’t exist for the sake of God. It exists for humans.
Even if their faith right now is shallow and born from fear, with time, it might grow into something real. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. I decided to see it that way.
Following someone blindly is easy in its own way.
Humans make mistakes. But if it’s God, He’s always right. That kind of thinking offers peace… and freedom from doubt.
But I’m not God’s representative.
Maybe it was my fault for saying things that gave them the wrong idea. This is… seriously troublesome.
At this point, I didn’t even care about the Bearded Baron anymore.
I tried to fix one problem, and now I’ve ended up tangled in something far worse. It’s always like this, ever since I came to this world.
If anything, I’m the one who wants to be guided by the gods.
* * *
Thanks to everyone working seriously and staying on task, we made progress faster than expected. By early afternoon the next day, we could already see the destination fort in the distance.
We had a three-day deadline, but at this rate, we’d arrive within two. Not bad at all.
Still, I couldn’t let my guard down. Trouble always comes right before the goal. That’s common sense.
The “fort” was just some old stonework—nothing fancy. I’d been hoping for something cooler, like a fortress from Rhodes, so I felt a little disappointed.
Around a hundred soldiers were staying in tents nearby. Judging from the stacked-up supplies, it looked like this tent village was still expanding.
Apparently, the general of the Holy Kingdom planned to wait here and intercept the enemy. Honestly, it’d be easier if the enemy just marched straight to the capital. That would’ve simplified the supply lines.
But personally, I didn’t want the war to reach near Ms. Nina’s city. So this was fine. Yeah, better this way.
There was a clear area behind the storage depot, so I had the wagons lined up there and quickly swapped the fake barrels with the real ones.
A dull-looking middle-aged man shuffled toward us. I figured he was a guard and called out to him, but he had an officer’s armband—the quartermaster, apparently. He was in charge of receiving the supplies.
When I handed over the scroll with the delivery list, he scribbled something that could barely be called writing. I wasn’t even sure it counted as a signature legally. Can that really be accepted?
The symbol of Hortus lit up faintly.
Huh? Does that mean… mission complete?
I thought I was supposed to report to a commander or someone important. But this… this was way more casual than expected. Was this mission really so minor all along?
I had been pouring all my effort into it. Now I felt kind of stupid.
Knowing the Bearded Baron, he’d probably just laugh it off and say the whole thing was a joke.
Still, I did get God’s seal of approval. That counts for something.
But something tells me… this isn’t over yet.
Notes:
• Escalion – Male. An old swordsman who claims to be the ‘true Hero.’ He is Mia’s lover and appears to be a human from the same world. Despite his shabby appearance, he is incredibly strong and has a frightening presence. He dislikes humans and has a complicated history with them, including an experiment involving a fox.
• Holy Kingdom – Located on the east of the continent.
• Jamil – Male. A rough and intimidating caravan driver. His appearance is that of a scarred, bandit-like figure with a scary face. He is arrogant and deliberately provocative, mocking authority and even blaspheming against the god Hortus. His strength is notable, but he lacks professional fighting skills. He is a pawn in Bearded Baron’s scheme, ultimately suffering divine punishment for his impiety, rapidly aging into a feeble old man.
• Ms. Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
Please bookmark this series and rate ☆☆☆☆☆ on here!
Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
Leave a Reply