Praise, worship. The great Demon King of ours. That was the first thing we heard in the Citadel Republic.
The situation here was so desperate that just that one phrase was enough to understand.
Humans sometimes tend to worship things that are terrifying and dreadful.
“Is this… the Citadel Republic? More like…”
Roka kept looking around. But there was nothing in sight.
Shadows of people seemed to flicker in the darkness, but the ash covering everything blocked any light.
“It just… feels like the Demon World.”
“Worse. I’d rather it be the Demon World.”
People who don’t know much about the Demon World tend to think of it as a living hell where humans can’t survive, and embarrassingly, I was one of them. The elders in the village used to scare us, saying the Demon World is the most horrifying place where demons live, and if a human steps foot there, even their soul will be corrupted.
Well, they never actually went to the Demon World.
The Demon World is just a barren, uninhabitable outer region of the continent. Demons, being living creatures, would never live in such a place.
“Be careful, Roka. You’re going to bump into something.”
Oops, too late. The child didn’t see the tree on the road and hit their head.
Thanks to the child’s training in magical power, their head was tough enough that it didn’t hurt, but Roka seemed pretty upset. Still, it was fortunate it ended there.
“It’s worse than I thought. If it weren’t for the feathers, my lungs would’ve been in trouble.”
Coughing sounds echoed throughout the city. As soon as one person stopped coughing, another would start.
The air was filled with the smell of sulfur, and even Roka’s sharp nose couldn’t make sense of the surroundings. But closing her eyes and relying on her ears, she could still make out some shapes. The child seemed to realize this and closed their eyes completely. Their ears twitched as they tried to locate sounds, which was oddly cute.
‘This isn’t smoke, nor fog. Should we call it smog?’
“This city has fallen and is being punished! Soon, the Demon King will purify everything! Do not fear death! He is coming! Worship him!”
“Right! That’s right!”
“Let us worship his coming!”
What’s more concerning than the smog is the despair and fear that have taken root in people’s hearts.
For some citizens, that fear seems to have turned into faith. What they worship isn’t a god, but the greatest demon—Grimudo.
“Everyone. What is ‘Nim’? It is the name we long for, the name in our hearts! The name we have thirsted for, shedding tears for countless years. Nim is none other than the Primal Demon King, Grimudo, who will burn this corrupt world and open the gates to paradise, everyone!”
The strongest, oldest, and most feared one from the Arctic is, ironically, the only Demon King worshipped by humans.
He doesn’t actively seek worshippers, but the number of those who revere him is slowly growing. Their numbers are likely equal to those who have despaired of the world.
Demon King worshippers are generally those who are exhausted and despairing. They would rather see the world collapse than continue living in this harsh reality.
The Primal Demon King, who can most certainly bring about the world’s destruction, is like a singular god to them. This is why, despite the Three God Faith’s oppression, the number of Grimudo’s followers continues to grow.
“Idiots. It’s not like the Demon King will grant them power for that.”
Roka muttered to herself. But faith doesn’t need a reason.
People don’t need something to return to in order to believe. The world is vast, and there are many people. Some are ready to worship anything, even if it’s not Grimudo.
For such people, worshipping the Demon King is an unstoppable force. No matter how much you oppress or punish them, followers of the Demon King will always emerge.
But most people usually don’t pay attention to such things. At least, not before something like this happens.
“Right! Those bastards! They only took our taxes and then ran away. Is this a country? Is this a republic?!”
“There are no ships at the harbor, and the ships that left were filled with gold, not people. What about us? Are we just supposed to die? Fine. Let’s die. But I can’t die alone out of sheer resentment.”
“Are there still people who worship the goddess? We’re all going to die soon anyway, so let’s just believe in the Demon King. He’ll sweep away even those who abandoned us!”
Voices of agreement echoed throughout the city. To those already in despair, the one who could destroy the world that abandoned them had appeared.
Praising and serving him might be the greatest act of resistance for those abandoned in Valles City.
If the hearth were warm, bread for dinner within reach, and family healthy and living peacefully, talk of worshipping the Demon King wouldn’t even reach their ears. But now, what about it?
The number of people praising the Demon King didn’t seem small at all.
“First, we need to deal with this ash.”
With only Roka barely visible beside me, there’s nothing we can do. Both Roka and I are new to the Citadel Republic and completely ignorant of the geography.
From my hand, I pulled out a millstone. A salt mill. It’s been a while since I used this power, and of course, it didn’t feel good. Miracles and powers are best left unused.
“What’s that?”
“You’re not going to ask if it’s edible this time?”
In my empty hand, a millstone appeared as if it had always been there, and Roka looked at it with curious eyes.
A millstone, just a millstone. But unlike ordinary millstones used to grind grain, this one is used to make salt.
“It’s a salt mill. I don’t even need to turn it myself. Just set it down and give the handle a tap…”
Then, the millstone clatters and starts turning on its own. As if an invisible fairy is turning the handle.
The somewhat crude-looking millstone began to turn, making the sound of grinding stone, and white salt started falling like snow between the upper and lower stones. Scooping up the salt and sprinkling it around us, the world suddenly brightened. To be precise, light began to shine around us.
Clink!
As the salt absorbed the dust and turned into black powder, falling in clumps, sunlight shone only around Roka and me. As if the sun favored us, the black ash parted just enough to let the sunlight through.
The power, the salt mill. It produces salt that purifies calamities and drives out evil spirits.
Sprinkling it around repels pests like flies and mosquitoes, as well as poisonous creatures.
When sprinkled on polluted land or water, it absorbs the pollution and purifies it. If it exceeds its limit, it turns black and disappears.
“Amazing!”
“No, if the volcano keeps spewing smoke, it’s meaningless. Look. The ash is already closing in again.”
The brief opening in the ash barrier was restored, covering the sky again. But for that short moment, we clearly saw the Caldera Mountain Range, which had been obscured by the thick ash.
The mountains were burning, and smoke rose in black pillars, supporting the sky. Even from a distance, the power of nature was awe-inspiring.
Perhaps it was fortunate that the thick smoke obscured the view. If this terrifying sight had been fully visible, the citizens would have surely fallen into deeper despair.
But we can’t hide in this darkness forever, ignoring the truth.
“Who’s there?”
Finally, the figure of someone shouting beyond the ash came into view. He seemed middle-aged, with soot on his face making it hard to tell, but he was quite a handsome man.
He looked at me and shouted angrily. Beside him, people who had been influenced by the Grimudo Church glared at me.
“Who dares interrupt our prayers?”
“For now, just a passerby.”
I calmed Roka, who was about to shout behind me, and grabbed some salt to sprinkle around again.
The second time I sprinkled the salt, the area became clear, and though the air was still somewhat murky, the view was much brighter.
“What kind of trick is this? What are you doing? Huh?”
“Would you like some salt? It absorbs ash and smoke.”
No matter how much salt we have, Roka and I can’t brighten this city by sprinkling it around.
But if people sprinkle it around their own homes and nearby areas, it could work.
A brighter city doesn’t mean a brighter future, but the people’s unrest would calm down.
Already, the effect was starting to show. A citizen, who had been listening to the Grimudo Church’s teachings with interest, approached me.
“Um… did you say salt?”
“Yes. You can even taste it. Before it absorbs the ash, it’s safe to eat.”
Seeming unconvinced, I set the millstone down again and gave it a tap to make it turn. As it turned, white salt flew out, and the person’s eyes widened. They reached out, took a pinch of salt, and brought it to their mouth, their eyes widening further.
“It’s salt! And really good salt!”
“Salt? Really?”
“Can we really take it?”
“Of course. Take as much as you want.”
Then, they started asking persistently.
“Is it free?”
“Of course.”
“Any conditions?”
“None. Take as much as you can carry.”
“Here, they’re giving out salt for free! Take as much as you want!”
People called others, who called more, and soon I was surrounded. The middle-aged man on the platform shouted.
“Everyone! Don’t be fooled by such tricks! We’re all going to die! We’re all going to die! What does a little salt matter?!”
Watching people roll large barrels to collect salt, I thought the same.
It doesn’t matter how much they take, but this is just salt. It purifies pollution and drives out impurities, but that’s all. It’s just salt. It can’t even heal people.
This power is focused on purification and exorcism, not healing. The compromise that allows the salt mill to produce unlimited salt plays a big role in this. Healing is harder than it seems.
‘Salt… is precious. It is precious, but…’
If this place were a grassland with no access to the sea or salt mines, I could understand. There, a single bag of salt could buy ten bags of wheat.
Even in remote areas where imperial gold isn’t accepted, salt is seen as valuable.
Having traded with such holy salt a few times, I know well how valuable salt can be.
‘Isn’t the Citadel Republic a country with access to the sea?’
I thought I heard there were many salt farms, so why are people going crazy over salt?
It’s truly puzzling.
