Ch.7 Genesis of Religion I

The hall room.

Dark stone walls covered the chamber, decorated with golden engravings. Their lustre came to life beneath the cold light of high mounted wall lamps. The yellow flames burned without fuel or shadow.

A dark brown, grand sofa rested in the centre. In front of it, a black table draped in red fabric, unblemished.

On the far wall hung a painting, half agony, half defiance.

A man cleaved in two. One half chained and bleeding. The other, holding a torch with a smile on his face. The face of one who stole fire from the heavens and bore punishment with pride.

Ronny and Rex sat upon the main sofa.

“So…” Ronny broke the silence, turning towards Rex. “Why’d you pick the first apple? I mean, you could’ve balanced it, gone fifty-fifty with field regulation and temperature regulation. Why hard lock yourself to just one?”

Rex rubbed the back of his neck. “Too many options would’ve slowed me down. I don’t need complexity. Temperature control is more than enough for me. I can do lots of stuff with that.”

Ronny snorted. “You can’t scratch your butt and run at the same time huh?”

Ard reclined on his armchair. “But he is, technically, the strongest of us all. His mana aligns with but a single frequency, granting mastery of stage one, unlike the rest of us.”

Ronny tilted his head like a racoon. “Maximum potential? Like zero Kelvin to negative kelvin?”

Tiya, seated beside them like an unmoved statue on a small sofa, spoke without shifting a single muscle. “Negative kelvin?”

Ard drummed his fingers on his forehead. “I believe he is referring to experiments conducted at LMU back in our world where physicists supposedly achieved negative kelvin, the hottest temperature on the temperature scale.”

Tiya blinked. The only sign she hadn’t frozen in time. “Oh! I never heard about that one.”

Ronny struck a pose. “Not to flex or anything but uh... I dabble in brain cell activities.”

Rex met the nonsense with a reply. “Hey, chill out even if I am able to manipulate temperature from zero to, what? negative kelvin? I don’t think there will ever come a time where I have to use it.”

Ard’s expressions turned serious, lost in thought. “Your power is really useful...”

“Am I the only one who thinks that we are a bit lost here?” Ronny asked.

“Uhhh.. we are supposed to prove ourselves, unlock his approval badge but Lord Croxeus really hit us with the vaguest terms of service ever. Build connections? Establish presence? Bruh this isn’t a trial. It’s a soft launch into existential lag.”

Ard got up from his armchair and moved towards the painting on the front wall.

The bound man on the wall, a metaphor too blunt for Ard’s taste. Still, it sufficed.

“Forgive me Ronny, but your misunderstanding is, of course expected. He did not leave us in the dark. He entrusted us. Connectivity, as you put it, was never about just establishing our presence.”

He then turned to the rest of them. “But establishing his presence. If you recall, he mentioned to spread his name, to fix this world.”

Ronny asked incredulously looking up towards Ard, “So that’s our test?”

Ard turned his face towards Rex, “At least I think so, wouldn’t you agree Rex?”

Delegation. Disguised commandments as questions. Let others believe they chose their path.

Rex caught off guard, hesitated. “Yeah—I, I think we should.”

Ard announced carefully. “We will spread his name in the world and create a better world.”

Ronny’s voice broke the brief silence. “A better world, huh? What does that even look like?”

A better world. What does a better world look like? No one knew. But one thing was constant. Visionaries drowning in pursuit of a better world.

Ard’s response was unambiguous, stripped of rhetorical flourish. His one hand rose in theatrics.

“It is a world where the powerful do not oppress the powerless. A world where justice prevails over inequity; where morality and empathy are not scorned but celebrated. A world liberated not by treating symptoms, but by uprooting the very causes of suffering.” His fists clenched.

Ronny sceptically asked. “And how do you think we would do that?”

Ard replied with both his hands spread as if welcoming the warm embrace of his Lord. “Spread his name. Establish a system. Serve others.”

Rex turned towards Ard, the look of scepticism in his eyes pressed further earnestly. “That is exactly what he is asking. How do we implement this?”

Ard paused as he surveyed the silent, stone-walled assembly. His expressions turned serious as he adjusted his golden rimmed spectacles.

“Observe the chaos that writhes beneath civility. Blindfolded, yet convinced of their vision.

Consumed by the immediacy of their own lives, they cannot perceive the harm they inflict. Left alone, they struggle through life. Hurting others in the process without even realizing it. Not out of malice… but limitation.”

He turned around, approaching the painting.

“What we require is a framework. Not law, not transient ideology but something deeper. A morality that is enforced by empathy, not fear. A structure that compels understanding, not just obedience. Give them a reason to gather. A reason to care. To lift one another, not in the name of vague compassion, but in the name of something greater. Something absolute.”

Empathy, not just as a feeling but as a function.

He turned around to face them again, opening his hands slightly in front.

“An absolute that stands above all. Untouched by favouritism, fear or frailty. One guided by principles and ideals. Flaws are inevitable, so be it. Let the world remain flawed. But the ideals, they must remain untarnished. Untouched. If we begin to align ourselves not with preference but principle… then yes, we may carve a path to something better.”

Rex lifted his head to face him. “All of your talk of systems and ideals… but still not a clear answer, huh?”

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His eyes met Ard’s. “Ideals alone cannot reshape a world built on flawed people. You can draft the most perfect structure, but place it in the hands of the broken, the afraid, the angry… and it’ll rot from the inside.

Take democracy, it’s a brilliant system. But if the voters are ignorant and stupid, the whole thing collapses under its own weight. You don’t save the world by handing out a blueprint. You save it by changing hearts.”

His view was simple. Broken men couldn’t build a flawless world. Fix the men and the world fixes itself.

Ard smirked, positioned his head even higher.

Arrogance? No. Certainty.

“The system I propose is far superior to governments, laws or codes. Those collapse because they are transactional, obedience in exchange for survival. Mine is guided by ideals, powerful enough to move hearts.”

Rex replied, demanding an answer, “Oh? Then enlighten me, genius. What exactly is this flawless miracle of yours? What is this beautiful system that is going to fix the world and move every heart?”

Ard delivered the answer like a conclusion of a theorem. “It is, quite simply, a religion.”

Religion. The most powerful system ever devised. Capable of genocide or genesis. All depending on the god within it.

Ronny sank into thoughts...

For the first time, Tiya’s expressions changed drastically. She simply was that shocked.

Tiya stared.

Rex stared.

They searched for hesitation. Found none. What manner of man smiles at damnation and calls it duty?

“A religion?” Rex asked.

A beat of silence.

Tiya stepped forward. She knew the line between ideal and idol. And she saw Ard crossing it.

“Hold on, Ard. You know exactly what you’re proposing, don’t you? I always believed you despised the very notion of religions.”

Ard smiled, unbothered. His faith was not in religions, but in what they could be turned into.

“Yes—and no,” he replied. “You’re correct. I used to view religions as just hollow constructs, designed only to establish order in a chaotic world.”

He turned slightly, as if addressing the whole room.

The room was his courtroom. They, the jury. But only he knew the verdict.

“But I see now… they can be far more than that. Not just order but purpose. Not control but connection. Religion is a vessel, and like any vessel, its value depends on what you pour into it.”

Ronny’s jest was gone. What replaced it was recognition.

“Okay hold up… honestly, he isn’t entirely off the mark,” he remarked. “Humans have spent lifetimes building these cathedral sized coping mechanisms. Shouldn’t we, then, be bold enough to create something authentic. A real religion that isn't fanfiction?”

Tiya’s response was as icy as the marble beneath their feet. She was not impressed. Nor swayed. “Except, ten of those so-called real gods have annihilated entire universes in a heartbeat.”

Ronny replied in an instant, “But we’re not talking about worshipping those capricious tyrants. We are talking about Lord Croxeus.”

A ripple of tension passed through the group as Rex raised a concerned hand. “Hold up, everyone. We’re sitting here arguing whether to build an entire religion around Lord Croxeus without thinking about what he wants.

From what I’ve seen of him… if I may be frank, he strikes me as someone who would recoil from being idolized.”

Ard’s eyes sparkled as he raised his hands up towards the ceiling. “He has already decreed that his name must be spread. Worship, in our case, is an inevitability, it exists regardless of his desire. In truth, a deity who shuns worship is all the more worthy of it.”

Tiya cut through the debate with a heavy voice. “Can’t we worship him…. without instituting an entire religion?”

Rex nodded. “Yes, she is right. Ard, you know as well as I do the chaos that unfettered religion can unleash, wars, extremism, fanatical fervour. Haven’t we witnessed enough of that in our own world?”

Ard lay out a hand on his front and then closed his fist. “That is precisely because those religions were created solely to wrest power from the people. Our cause, however, is far nobler, and most importantly, our god is indisputably real.”

Tiya, back to her expressionless manner, shook her head. “That was the prevailing thought back home, wasn’t it?”

“Yet they were all mistaken,” Ard countered. Still not stuttering or backing down. “We stand on the side of truth.”

Rex looked at Ard, his heart resisted. “But all religions… no matter how noble, tends to fan the flames of fanaticism. It spreads… then it burns. How can we justify walking that path?”

Ard tilted his head, looked Rex directly in his eyes, posing a challenge. “Then, if you have an alternative means to achieve our goal, do enlighten me.”

A thoughtful silence fell over the group before Rex spoke. “Maybe we can inspire them. Inspire them by kindness and by sacrifice. We go out there and do good. We show them the better way, and in time, they’ll want to become better. They will become better not just for themselves but for everyone.”

Ard’s lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. “Much like what you accomplished in the village, isn’t it so?”

“Yes,” Rex replied with a self-assuring confidence. Still believing that change came not from systems, but from souls. “and it bore fruit. The villagers united against the threat of bandits, and together, they subdued them.”

Ard almost let out a chuckle as if amused at his ignorance. “You underestimate the circumstances, Rex. They rallied not out of a genuine transformation of spirit, but for the reward. And let us not ignore that you leapt headlong into battle, decimating almost the entire threat yourself.”

Rex backed his arguments with his beliefs of idealism. “This is what I’m saying, we show our ways. Sure, they helped because there was a reward on the bandits which means the current system is already working good enough. What this world needs is a catalyst, a force strong enough to drive their dormant hearts.”

Ard turned almost teasing as he leaned forward. “Oh, poor Rex… you remain oblivious to the fate that befell those bandits, do you?”

“They were handed over to the kingdom’s forces,” Rex replied with reluctant resignation. “They’re due to be presented in court.”

Ard’s expression darkened with an uncanny seriousness. “Indeed, they will be presented only after their heads are severed.”

Rex’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“Ronny,” Ard called out, gesturing subtly, “can you enlighten our friend here?”

Delegation, again. Truth carried more weight when not spoken by the visionary.

Ronny, the reluctant witness, replied with a heavy heart. “Once captured, the bandits were… either poisoned or decapitated before they could be paraded in court.”

A heavy silence descended as Rex absorbed the grim truth. He recalled, many of the bandits were just teenagers, not even adults.

Ard’s voice softened into a tone of bitter reflection. “I am aware, Rex, of your efforts to capture them without any lethal harm. You cared for them. You knew that they were young, some barely teenagers forced due to their circumstances. Yet… yet the only justice served to them was death.”

It seemed as if he mourned not the dead, but the flaw that demanded it.

Ronny kept a hand on Rex’s shoulder. “Rex, you gotta wake up, we are in a medieval world. Strong oppresses the weak here like any other hierarchy. Justice in this world is only for those who can afford it... Only for those who have something of value to give in return. For the rest of them it’s the same. They get shanked for stealing bread or looking at Lord Snoot face the wrong way.”

Rex’s face fell into silence, his heart heavy. There was no arguing with reality when it stood to close.

Ard’s voice rose again. “This is precisely why we must create a new system, one that not only preserves order but also instills hope, that binds people with a shared faith. A faith that surpasses the baseless materialism that suffocates their very souls and replaces it with meaning. A world not for power… but purpose.”

Rex replied, “A purpose of taking down those gods, right? You want to drag the people of this world in your own war, don’t you?”

He accused. But Ard did not flinch.

“That is not my intention. But if anyone wants to fight for our cause only to save their own world, I wouldn’t say no.”

Rex tried to muster a final objection. “Yeah, you won’t…”

Ard’s gaze remained steady. He met every eye. Welcomed all arguments, much like he fed on them.

“Differences of opinion are inevitable. If you possess an alternative proposal that could better achieve our aim, I am open to all of your considerations.”

He looked at Tiya whose emotions were back to normal. Unmoving, unreadable. Though, there was a hint of disappointment or disgust on her face.

Nevertheless, he strolled forward towards the painting.

He then turned slowly. Both his hands rose in offering. They floated forward gently, palms slightly open. Not wide like a prophet demanding a choice between two but reflecting something inevitable, something predetermined.

A declaration.

“Religions are systems while God is an idea. Systems are flawed, but ideals are not. Yet, systems guided and directed by ideals can never lose their purpose.”

As he said this, the faintest energy of light, almost shy, sparked in his both hands. Tiny tendrils of blue. Holy static.

The spark of godhood.

His magic began taking its hold.

The forbidden apple had already begun taking its effects or so it seems.