I'm Trapped in the Block

Chapter 445: Chapter 442: The Cost of Becoming a God

”A price...” The Little Elf understood this word all too well.

’To only be able to fulfill the wishes of others... is the price that I can never have a wish of my own?’

”We are... the Wishless Ones?”

The Little Elf was still unable to accept this reality as the god kneeling there began to speak once more.

”The Slothful One understood this long ago. That is why it gave up on thinking and fulfilled wishes without restraint.”

”It felt no fear in the face of death. It had long foreseen its own end—the sea drying up, leaving behind only endless yellow sand. It was simply too lazy to change any of it.”

”If we are destined to be without wishes, then there’s no meaning in doing anything at all. Whether we are lazy or diligent, the end is the same...”

The god’s voice was laced with sorrow. It didn’t hate the Slothful One—it felt more pity than anything else.

”It once said something to me...”

”’You knew my existence in this world would be for nothing, so why did you create me at all?’”

Without wishes of one’s own, everything is done for the benefit of others. How is that any different from being a wishing machine?

The Slothful One never figured out this problem, even up to the moment of its death.

”The Joyful One was the same, but it chose a different path...”

”Escape. Since it could never obtain a wish, it chose to live for momentary pleasure. It completely immersed itself in ephemeral games. When one source of fun ran out, it would just find another, pretending not to care about anything.”

”A moment of pleasure can completely cover up confusion. If you can’t see the path ahead, then just stop to look at the roadside flowers. Crush the snail crawling onto the path. Forget the curse that can never be changed, and forget the destination that can never be reached.”

”Joy can conceal everything, escape from everything. It could lose itself in one game after another, forgetting all else...”

As it spoke, the god collapsed heavily onto the turtle shell, its body no longer able to support itself.

But it braced itself against the shell with its hands and shakily pushed itself back up.

It gripped the spear embedded in the turtle shell and pulled itself up, inch by inch.

The Dragon King’s oppressive might descended again, slamming down on its body. The god went limp under the weight, but it still clung desperately to the spear, climbing higher and higher.

At last, trembling, it managed to stand up straight.

It withstood the terrifying pressure, standing indomitably upon the turtle shell.

”Why?!” it suddenly roared.

”Why can we only fulfill the wishes of others?”

”Is this what we were meant to be?!”

”Are rats born only to dig holes? Are dogs born only to chew bones? Are dragons born only to summon the wind and rain?”

BOOM!

As if in answer to its voice, the Dragon King in the sky sent down a bolt of lightning that struck the spear. White smoke began to drift slowly upward.

The god’s body was in ruins, its watery form dripping feebly, but its voice had not weakened in the slightest!

”I will not be slothful, nor will I be lost in pleasure. I will find a path to break our fate...”

”In the Sea of Creation, I thought for a long, long time, and I finally came up with a way!”

”To use wishes to create a wish!”

”Once I have submerged everything, I will have all my people make a single wish—”

”’Let our kind have wishes of their own.’”

The god’s voice trembled as it described its beautiful vision:

”If the collected wishes are powerful enough, we can have a wish of our very own! When that time comes, none of our kin will be lost, the fog-shrouded path will be cleared, and we will break our destiny!”

It suddenly looked at the Little Elf. ”You, of all beings, should understand! You did something like this in Oasis City. You know the power of a collective wish! The shackles that bind our kind are nothing before a collective wish.”

”Don’t you want to find a wish of your own? Do you want to remain lost forever, never to see clearly?”

BOOM!

Another bolt of lightning struck down, landing squarely upon its body.

Boiling bubbles had begun to rise from its stagnant, watery form as the god’s body slowly dissipated.

The god’s imposing aura was shattered by the lightning, completely extinguished.

”Are you listening?”

”I am.”

”Help me. I still haven’t fulfilled my wish.”

”No. You’re wrong,” the Little Elf said resolutely.

”Why?” The god looked at it in disbelief.

”While I understand the pain of being lost, I would never choose to have someone else create a wish for me,” the Little Elf said earnestly. ”If a wish is manufactured, is it even my own wish anymore?”

The Little Elf looked at the dying god and asked a question that struck to the very heart of the matter:

”Do you want to possess an illusory bubble called ’a wish,’ or do you truly want to *do* something?”

”I may have only been born a short while ago—I’m not like you, the Slothful One, or the Joyful One... I’m not even like our kin from the Sea of Creation. But there is one thing I know.”

”Wishes aren’t created. They are a longing that comes from the depths of one’s heart.”

”During my years in Oasis City, I saw many wishes.”

”A little boy wanted a pistol that could make candy. He wanted it to create delicious sweets because, in his innocent mind, he believed that as long as his parents were eating candy, they wouldn’t fight. That’s what gave birth to his wish.”

”A soldier wished for an unbreachable wall. It wasn’t the hard steel and concrete he truly desired, but the girl behind that wall, who was worth protecting.”

”A girl wished to see the stars every day, not because she cared for the distant, unrelated suns in the heavens, but because she worried that when her love returned to her, there would be no starlight to shine down on them...”

”Wishes are both simple and complex. They arise from the tangled web of desires in a living being’s heart. From desires like mud, a wish as beautiful as a lotus can bloom.”

”This ’wish’ that you want... what is it, really?”

The Little Elf, controlling Olive, slowly flew before the god.

”In truth, you’ve had a wish all along, haven’t you?”

”You want all of us to have wishes. Is that not a wish in itself?”

Hearing the Little Elf’s question, the god froze.

”That... is not a wish,” it said, hesitating.

”Then what is it?” the Little Elf pressed.

The god didn’t answer. It just stood there rigidly and remained silent.

From beginning to end, it seemed it had never truly understood what a wish was.

Whether it was the beast-like creatures or the powerful races, they all possessed strange, jumbled thoughts. These thoughts, buried in the soil of their hearts, grew into the towering trees of their wishes.

As a god, it had witnessed the rise and fall of countless beings. It watched them drown in desire, crawling arduously through a tangle of conflicting ideas. Their wishes were varied and vibrant.

But the god had never understood the essence of a wish.

”A wish... I’ve had one all along?” it murmured, dazed, not daring to admit it.

”Then why hasn’t it come true?” it asked, looking at the Little Elf in confusion.

”...”

Olive remained motionless.

”Hmm? Think again... Has your wish been fulfilled or not?”