I don't believe in God, but I'll use the "Miracle of God" freely ~I'll increase my magic arbitrarily and become invincible in another world~ - Chapter 5

The day after meeting Radi and Diego at the South Gate, Mika headed to the church in the morning.

 

Radi had casually mentioned Mika going to the church today, and the reason became clear—it was the day for “Sun Day School.”

 

Though it was called a school, there was no separate school building; it was just an open-air classroom. Once a week, the church held a study session for children on Sun Day.

 

“Sun Day” referred to the days of the week in this world, akin to Sundays. There were six days in a week: Sun Day, Moon Day, Fire Day, Water Day, Wind Day, and Earth Day, making up one week. By the way, a month had five weeks, and a year had twelve months, totaling 360 days.

 

(I wonder if their revolution period is like that?)

 

While Mika assumed that astronomy hadn’t advanced much in this world, considering the presence of a calendar, some form of study might exist.

 

Well, even the heliocentric theory existed in the prehistoric era; it was possible to establish a calendar without a strong connection to astronomy. Despite discrepancies and contradictions, adjustments could be made. A little misalignment was acceptable; having a defined yearly cycle was more practical than having no calendar at all. Some societies based their calendars on simple celestial observations and the time of year when rivers were prone to flooding.

 

Though the basis of their calendar was unknown, accepting it as it was would be easier.

 

(But it’s awkward to talk about, isn’t it?)

 

The months were divided into sets of three, starting with the Earth? month, Water? month, Fire? month, Wind? month, and so on. The dates were not written as “January 1st” or “September 23rd.” Instead, they were expressed using the month, the week, and the day.

 

For example, New Year’s Day was “Earth 1st month, 1st week, Sun Day,” and New Year’s Eve was “Wind 3rd month, 5th week, Earth Day.”

 

While it might be tempting for the Japanese, who tend to abbreviate everything, to shorten it to “Earth 1-1 Sun” or “Wind 3-5 Earth,” it was best to keep that to oneself.

 

(Couldn’t they just replace it with January 1st to December 30th? Would that turn everything into a code?)

 

It was extremely straightforward for Mika but difficult for the people around him to understand this way of describing dates. Even if written as “3/21” or “9/23,” the people in this world wouldn’t comprehend it at a glance.

 

(In fact, if written in Japanese, it’s all code.)

 

Even in the original world, it was considered a special category of language. In this world, it was practically a “fantasy language.” By the way, I had no trouble with the language in this world. Perhaps it was thanks to Mika Noishaim’s memories, or maybe my body remembered it. I was effortlessly bilingual.

 

Mika continued walking and reached the church located past the central square. Since the Noishaim family lived near the southeast edge of the village, it took about ten minutes for Mika to walk there.

 

Ordinary houses weren’t usually painted, but the church’s walls were painted bright white, and the roof was blue, making it very noticeable. The symbol of the Light God Religion, six rings, was displayed on the roof. Four rings were arranged vertically, with one ring on each side of the second and third rings.

 

(…It kinda reminds me of a clione.)

 

It was just a passing thought, but I couldn’t help but imagine a baculicorn protruding from the top ring. I hurriedly covered my mouth with my hand, trying to calm down… calm down… just as I often did when I almost burst into laughter while browsing the internet on my phone in the crowded train. Well, my shoulders were shaking, so people around me probably noticed.

 

The Light God Religion seemed to be a religion that worshipped six gods: Light, Darkness, Fire, Water, Wind, and Earth. Originally, these six gods were equal, so it should be called the “Six God Religion,” but for some reason, they called it the Light God Religion. It was the common practice in this world to rely on the Light God Religion from cradle to grave. Mika didn’t particularly have faith, but there was no discomfort in seeking their help when needed. Since childhood, he had eaten cake on Christmas, received presents, rung the temple bell at night a week later, and gone to the shrine for the first prayer, casually adapting as required. For children, attending the Sun Day School at the church was a natural thing if they had the opportunity; Mika didn’t object to participating except for the slight hassle.

 

Already, about six children had gathered in front of the church, chattering excitedly among themselves. Since Mika didn’t feel like actively joining in the conversation, he simply greeted them with a “Good morning” and sat in a corner seat.

 

In the spacious area next to the church entrance, about ten chairs were arranged in a semicircle, which was usually sufficient. The village’s children numbered more than that, but attending Sun Day School was optional. Once they could read, write, and do basic arithmetic, they tended to stop coming naturally. If more than ten people gathered and there weren’t enough chairs, they would simply fetch more from inside the church. However, for the past few years, the number of attendees had stayed around eight. Normally, it would be just one more person participating, but since attendance was optional, there was no guarantee everyone would come every time.

 

Seated, Mika waited for a while until Radi arrived, and the Sun School began.

 

The children greeted energetically, and Radi smiled kindly as he reciprocated the greetings.

 

Bathed in the sunlight as always, Radi’s figure sparkled, reminiscent of the Virgin Mary.

 

(…He laughs like an old man.)

 

Mika was still holding onto the fact that Radi had laughed at him.

 

Radi distributed small blackboards and something like chalk to the children. The blackboards were made of wood, a size suitable for children to place on their laps—around 30×40 centimeters in elongated rectangles. The surface was coated with a dark paint-like substance. The chalk, called “kisekishi,” was indeed a stone, processed to write like chalk. It looked like chalk in size but seemed to be some kind of stone designed for easy writing.

 

Along with these, they were given pieces of cloth—probably to erase in case of mistakes. Already, something was written on the blackboards, a math problem to be precise.

 

(A review from last time?)

 

Examining Mika Noishaim’s memories, he understood that these were a review of what they had learned last time. It involved addition and subtraction with three and four digits. There were two questions each. Looking at the child in the next seat, different contents were written on their blackboard. It seemed that the contents taught varied according to the children’s ages and proficiency levels.

 

Hmm… Mika pondered for a moment. It wasn’t like he had to think about the answers; they were simple addition and subtraction that he could solve without much effort. What he was contemplating was whether it was okay to write them down quickly. The young Mika didn’t seem to be fond of studying. Well, if there was a child who loved studying, I would dislike it to the point of wanting to slap them awake.

 

If the young Mika suddenly wrote down the answers effortlessly, wouldn’t Radi become suspicious? That’s what he was thinking about.

 

“You remember the one we did last time, right?”

 

As Mika hesitated, Radi, who had been watching the children one by one, called out to him. While the other children were writing something on the blackboards, even if they didn’t know the answers, Mika was just sitting there, not doing anything. It seemed to catch Radi’s attention.

 

“I’m fine. I remembered the one from last time.”

 

“Really? Then give it a try. If you don’t understand, feel free to ask, okay?”

 

Saying so, Radi moved on to the other children.

 

(But suddenly becoming too good at this is troublesome too. I don’t want to draw unnecessary suspicions, but I don’t want to be too bad either…)

 

Not too good, not too bad. He wanted to be an ordinary child who didn’t attract attention. To reduce the risk of revealing his true identity.

 

For now, he decided to solve two questions before Radi came back, and then tackle the remaining two questions at a similar pace. When he tried to write down the answers, his hand stopped.

 

(Can I really write this down without a problem?)

 

He looked at the blackboard and the kisekishi, which was used to write. The blackboard was just a wooden board coated with a paint-like substance. He worried that the paint might peel off when using the kisekishi.

 

(…But other children are writing normally, so it should be okay.)

 

He regained his focus and began to write down the answers. Then, he quietly waited for Radi to come back.

 

(Still, even in this world, they use the decimal system. It’s convenient to handle, though.)

 

He didn’t know why the decimal system had become established in the original world, but maybe for similar reasons, it was adopted in this world too. As someone who used to be a programmer, he could handle binary and hexadecimal systems, but intuitively, the decimal system, which was encountered more frequently in daily life, was the easiest to use.

 

By the way, when counting using fingers, most people would usually fold one finger at a time, making 0 to 5 the limit with one hand. But a very few eccentric programmers treated these fingers as 1 bit each. Yes, they counted in binary. Then, they could count from 0 to 31 with one hand. If they used both hands, they could count from 0 to 1023.

 

…Of course, this was common sense, but he noted that this ability had never proven useful even once.

 

With the calculation session ending, after a short break, they moved on to the teachings of the Light God’s scripture. However, it wasn’t a difficult discussion. They picked moral lessons from episodes of the gods, making simple fables that children could understand. In this way, the teachings of the Light God were instilled in the children, along with practical wisdom for life.

 

For example, there was a story about a certain fruit.

 

The fruit was incredibly delicious, but the skin had a strong bitterness to it. A mythological reason was given for the bitterness in the skin. Originally, the skin didn’t have any bitterness, but a troublesome beast destroyed the fruit that humans used as food. In response, a certain god made the skin bitter to drive away the nuisance. The god then taught people how to eat the fruit: peel off the skin, and it could be eaten as before.

 

Through such fables, children were taught not to bite into the fruit as a whole but to peel it before eating.

 

Radi sat down on a chair in front of the children and began to read a story aloud. Today’s story seemed to be about the “False God.”

 

Even though it was called the “False God,” it wasn’t about a god pretending to be another god. Instead, it seemed to be a god that governed acts of deception. It was a subordinate god of the “God of Darkness,” responsible for false appearances, lies, tricks, and hidden things.

 

Interestingly, this god was quite popular among the children. This was because, as the god of mischief, it frequently appeared in fables, playing pranks on various other gods and always ending up in trouble. Apparently, the children found this amusing.

 

In this story, the False God had mischievously tampered with the important cup of the “Fire God,” causing it to break. Enraged, the Fire God blamed the False God and tried to punish it. However, the False God transformed into an elephant and managed to escape. The Fire God, still angry, asked the “God of Truth” and the “God of Foresight” to find the False God.

 

The God of Truth and the God of Foresight collaborated, and the God of Truth said, “If it’s larger than an elephant, we can find it no matter where it is in the world.” They began searching for the False God.

 

Hearing this, the False God realized it would be discovered this way and transformed into a cow. Unable to find the False God, the God of Truth and the God of Foresight said, “Let’s look more carefully this time.” They decided they could find it if it was larger than a cow. So, they carefully surveyed the world.

 

Upon hearing this, the False God transformed into a wolf. This continued several times until the False God finally became a fly. Unable to find the False God, the God of Truth and the God of Foresight apologized but promised the Fire God that they would continue searching.

 

The False God sneered at having successfully escaped. However, at that moment, a frog arrived.

 

The frog devoured the fly that the False God had transformed into. If it returned to its original form, it could escape from the frog’s belly. However, doing so would expose it to the God of Truth and the God of Foresight.

 

Helplessly, the False God remained in the form of a fly inside the frog’s belly. That was the end of the story.

 

The children’s reactions were quite positive. They expressed disappointment and protest every time the False God changed its form, escaping the vigilant eyes but rejoiced when it was finally eaten by the frog.

 

Although it was a childish fable, the moral lessons included the idea that “you shouldn’t do bad things because the gods are watching” and “even if you escape cleverly, retribution will come.” There was probably also a lesson like “don’t kill frogs.”

 

However, wasn’t it a bit too hasty to suspect the False God just because the cup broke? And why did the False God choose to transform into an elephant first to escape? Wouldn’t it have been better to transform into something less conspicuous? It was something he wanted to say.

 

Thus, the Sun School came to an end. Using the morning hours of the sunny day, the children gradually learned about gods and practical wisdom for life through reading, writing, arithmetic, and fables.

 

There was no compulsory education; the education system was quite relaxed. But that was possible because there was a church. If the church didn’t conduct the Sun School, it would have been natural for people not to know how to read, write, or calculate.

 

Of course, the church probably had ulterior motives to secure future believers, but even after considering that, the benefits of the Sun School were significant. Moreover, the Sun School was free. There were no tuition fees; it was funded by donations to the church.

 

Thinking about this, Radi instructed Mika and another girl named Nunzia to stay behind.

 

(…Did I mess up something?)

 

For a moment, he felt a pang of anxiety, but if there were other children staying behind, it couldn’t be anything major. After everyone left, they helped clean up the chairs and blackboards.

 

Once the cleanup was done, Radi had Mika and Nunzia sit together in the front row of the church. The interior of the church was small, with no stained glass windows. It seemed like they had converted a larger house into a church. Six god statues lined a platform at the back, with benches placed facing them—a simple setup.

 

“Do you both remember being invited to the village chief’s house in spring and being told to touch the crystal?”

 

At first, Mika was puzzled, but upon searching his memories, he quickly recalled. It had happened about three months ago, and indeed, they had been summoned to the village chief’s house.

 

Led by Amalia, they had gone to the house of the village chief, where, apart from the chief, there were several unfamiliar men present. They were told to touch a crystal. Mika had touched it, but nothing significant had happened, and they were sent back home. At that time, he remembered that Nunzia, who was sitting next to him, had also been called.

 

When Nunzia nodded slightly, Mika did the same.

 

Upon confirming their agreement, Radi continued his explanation.

 

“They were examining your magical power.”

 

“…Magical power?”

 

To Mika’s surprise, Nunzia muttered.

 

(Hold on, hold on, another “absurd” word just came up.)

 

He blinked several times, looking at Radi as if to say, “Are you seriously saying this?” Radi carefully explained each point to ensure that Mika and Nunzia understood.

 

This country was called the Ecktrome Kingdom, and according to the country’s law, magical power was measured when children turned seven and nine.

 

That incident at the village chief’s house in spring was part of this examination process.

 

The amount of magical power didn’t increase significantly after the age of nine. One might think that examining magical power at the age of nine would be enough, but some children, especially the brighter ones, reached the standard level as early as seven. These early bloomers showed remarkable growth compared to those who met the standard at nine. The earlier they met the standard, the more they grew if trained properly.

 

If a child met the standard by the age of seven, they attended an academy with children from neighboring territories to learn “God’s Miracles” from the age of eight. At ten, they would go to the academy in the royal capital. Even children who met the standard at nine would go to the capital’s academy at ten.

 

Education at ten was mandatory by law, and education at eight was voluntary, organized by the local lords. For the lords, there was an advantage in establishing connections with talented individuals early; they might invite those individuals to their own territories after their education. Many children considered returning to their hometowns eventually.

 

Therefore, it was important to nurture their talents to the fullest extent.

 

“…So, does that mean we don’t have any talents?” Mika asked.

 

Nunzia nodded in agreement, and Radi replied, “According to Ecktrome’s law, it seems so.”

 

Whether it was an expected response or not, Radi didn’t seem concerned and continued smiling as usual.

 

“There are laws set by the country, and if you don’t meet the criteria, the conversation ends there… normally.”

 

Mika pondered, his chin resting on his hand.

 

(There’s a clear line set by the country’s laws, so the conversation should end here. Why did Radi call us? He mentioned something about testing yesterday…)

 

Radi watched Mika deep in thought, finding it amusing. Perhaps Mika was more curious than he had initially thought. Just a week ago, Mika had tried to go to Cotton Tessa alone. It was an extremely dangerous act, and Mika had indeed collapsed halfway, putting his life in peril. However, something within him must have driven him to do so. Furthermore, he had asked Radi about “God’s Miracles” yesterday, something he hadn’t inquired about before. Although he had expressed awe at seeing “Healing” before, he had never asked what it was. Until now, he had simply accepted it as a “God’s Miracle.”

 

Radi decided to be patient and wait until Mika gave up.

 

(Country’s laws, obligations, measurement of magical power, the men at the village chief’s house, officials of the country or territory? Radi… Sister, church…)

 

As Mika organized his thoughts, something clicked in his mind.

 

“…Church’s criteria?”

 

The country established the standard for magical power. In this way, the country took away talented individuals. But what about the church? The church also had individuals using “God’s Miracles,” like Radi. Perhaps the church set some criteria too? Maybe they selected individuals with talent in a way that didn’t contradict the country’s laws.

 

For instance, if the limit of a person’s magical power was 100, and let’s say the country’s standard was 60. What about someone who had 59 magical power? If guided properly, couldn’t they become as skilled as someone with 60 magical power? He didn’t know the specifics, but it seemed like the church might have a different method of selecting talented individuals, ensuring that those who met the country’s criteria were educated by the country and those who didn’t met the church’s criteria were educated by the church.

 

Radi froze, surprised by Mika’s deduction.

 

“You didn’t ask your family, Amalia, or Loretta, right?”

 

When Mika nodded, Radi let out a sigh of relief.

 

“Many children learn about it through hearsay, but you’re the first one who figured it out on your own. I never told you, did I?”

 

Radi seemed genuinely surprised.

 

(Well, most kids probably wouldn’t think this far. Plus, it’s for seven-year-olds. If there was a child like that, it would be surprising.)

 

If he had asked, Radi would have probably answered him normally. After all, that’s why he had called them.

 

Radi regained his composure and continued his explanation.

 

“Now, please extend your hands.”

 

Saying so, Radi held out his hands for Nunzia. She placed her hands on top of his palms, her palms facing up.

 

“Take a slow, deep breath. Exhale. There’s nothing painful or scary. Calm down your feelings.”

 

As instructed, Nunzia took a slow, deep breath and exhaled. Mika watched them closely, growing tense himself.

 

He felt their heartbeats gradually getting stronger and faster.

 

Calm down… calm down… he whispered to himself, trying to steady his own nerves.