“Disappeared? What do you mean?”
“The hero of that generation vanished completely from this world. We searched across the Four Corners of the World but found no trace of her,” the Earth Mother explained, her tone laced with a tinge of sorrow.
March 7 furrowed her brows, her expression troubled.
“She did nothing wrong, yet she was erased because of something like this…”
Her sympathy lay with the unfortunate hero, and the Earth Mother could only bow her head in silent lament.
“And how does this connect to the cognitive barriers you’ve placed on the people of this planet?”
“After losing the hero’s piece, we unanimously concluded that an entity existed beyond this world—one that could effortlessly shatter the rules as we know them.”
“This being operates on a scale that transcends our comprehension, both in its limitations and its potential.”
“To enter a game without understanding the rules would be to invite certain defeat—a failure we gods cannot abide.”
“Thus, to prevent a bloody and catastrophic end, and to protect this beloved planet and its inhabitants, we sealed it away.”
“We abandoned its celestial pathways and drew the curtain over its skies. This veil blocks the gaze of those beyond the stars while constantly influencing the minds of the people below.”
The Earth Mother lifted her gaze, her expression layered with emotions March 7 couldn’t quite decipher.
“Not long ago, however, a train arrived on those abandoned tracks, carrying with it the god of freedom. Through his abilities, we realized that our endless cycle of self-imprisonment might finally see an end.”
“You gods,” March 7 muttered, her voice sharp, her face set in a scowl. “All you think about is yourselves, don’t you?”
The Earth Mother’s revelations filled March 7 with irritation. She balled her fists and, with uncharacteristic boldness, confronted the deity.
“Is your plan to use the train and Venti’s powers to break free from this game?”
Though her tone was heavy with disdain, the Earth Mother merely looked at her with mild regret, speaking firmly nonetheless.
“I am sorry, but this is the best solution we have conceived.”
“However, before the plan could be enacted, I and the Supreme God changed our minds.”
“What do you mean?”
“Unlike the others, who believed the only path to salvation lay in escaping the rules, we chose another path. Rather than clinging to the static laws of the past, we resolved to embrace new rules—to adapt to the game known as the universe.”
A trace of melancholy flickered in the Earth Mother’s eyes as she continued.
“We understand the risks involved in this decision. Even the slightest mistake could bring about the end of this world.”
“But in truth, the countdown began the moment that cursed seed descended upon us.”
“Yet, neither I nor the Supreme God can bear to abandon this planet—not for the sake of the precious lives here, nor for the planet that birthed us. We have reasons we cannot ignore.”
“…”
March 7 absorbed the Earth Mother’s words in silence, slowly piecing together their meaning.
“So, what do you want us to do?”
“Remove the threat posed by that cursed seed.”
Unlike the mortals who only saw the Stellaron as a source of monstrous calamities, the gods understood its deeper essence: a cancer upon the world.
Even so, the local gods could only barely suppress the Stellaron’s erosion of the planet with their collective power. They were helpless against the radiated corruption empowering the Demon King and the monsters below.
The Stellaron operated like a limited-time event in a grand game. Though foreign in origin, its arrival fused it with the game board of this world.
The gods had two choices: follow the rules and dispatch agents to manage its effects, hoping to survive until the event expired, or flip the board entirely and face it in a decisive battle.
Flipping the board, however, came at a steep cost. The act would wipe out everything on it, leaving behind only the “background lore” of the Four Corners of the World.
Such lore rarely influenced the game itself. For instance, while the human nations on the continent knew about the glory of ancient civilizations, this knowledge did little to help them reclaim such greatness. Even ancient scrolls, relics of that era, were often too degraded to be of practical use.
Not every race fared the same, of course. Take the Lizardfolk, for example:
Unlike the Forestfolk, who relied heavily on their gods, or humans, who pursued innovation, the Lizardfolk worshipped their bloodline ancestors instead of deities.
Although the power they could draw from their ancestral bloodlines had waned over time, their abilities remained distinct from miracle-based systems.
Interestingly, while the gods had created the Lizardfolk, not all of their ancestors were divine creations. Some were dragonkind from beyond the stars, whose bloodline carried exceptional vitality and immortality.
According to the Earth Mother, beneath the South Sea Dragon Palace, a slumbering “true dragon” in its final shedding form lay dormant.
Though these beings existed in a state akin to death, they retained a measure of vitality. They would likely endure in this state until the very end of all things.
The gods, however, lacked such immortality and were unwilling to accept passive defeat. Targeting the train’s crew was an inevitable choice.
The trials the crew faced were tied to this divine interference. Without it, the gods would never have realized that among these travelers hid the God of Hope and Change.
While the gods’ dice rolls could not influence Venti, they could easily manipulate locals like Mimiya.
The Earth Mother’s own luck was notably strong. Thanks to her devoted followers, her interactions with March 7 consistently resulted in successes.
Her one failure had been during the Getlow Town incident—but that was because Venti had intervened. A failure, under those circumstances, was inevitable.
This small failure didn’t affect the larger picture. The Earth Mother had succeeded at critical points, maneuvering circumstances to establish contact with March 7, while other gods scrambled to send their envoys, like high priests, rushing to the negotiation table.
The Earth Mother’s fondness for March 7 was clear from her actions.
However, unlike the Earth Mother, who openly embraced whatever outcome fate might bring, March 7 held an inherently negative view of the gods on this planet.
To her, these gods were powerful but fundamentally flawed beings, more “human” in their capriciousness and self-interest than they were “divine.”
Her earlier joy at helping the planet’s people was now mostly replaced with distaste as she replied flatly:
“…Sorry. This isn’t something I can decide alone. I can only promise that we’ll help contain the Stellaron. As for anything beyond that—I can’t say.”
Helping the planet’s people was one thing. Helping its gods was another entirely, especially since most of the world’s calamities seemed to have been caused by these bored, self-serving deities.
“Thank you. That much alone is greatly appreciated,” the Earth Mother said with a bow of her head.
March 7 was ready to wave off the conversation and ask to be sent back, but a sudden thought struck her.
“Well, if you really want to thank me, could I ask for a favor?”
“What is it?”
“When we’re done dealing with the disaster, can you stop the endless cycle of heroes fighting monsters?”
“…I assumed you’d bring up the goblins first,” the Earth Mother replied, her expression unreadable as she gazed at the determined look in March 7’s eyes.
“I can promise that both the Supreme God and I will cease perpetuating the cycle. However, you’ll need to convince one more god to achieve a majority agreement.”
“The periodic calamity of the Demon King is a rule etched into the fabric of the Four Corners of the World. Even we must obtain the consensus of the majority to amend it.”
“I see. Got it!”
March 7 nodded in understanding, but the Earth Mother hesitated briefly before speaking again.
“As compensation, I can place a curse on the goblins. Any goblin walking the earth will slowly turn to stone, eternally enduring the torment of wind and weather, trapped in their own minds.”
“Whoa! You can actually do that?”
Compared to her earlier frustration, March 7 was impressed by the Earth Mother’s willingness to offer such a solution.
However, she quickly realized a flaw: while most goblin tribes lived on land, some had developed seafaring capabilities, traveling rivers and oceans.
Given goblins’ rapid reproduction rate, they would likely adapt to this curse by becoming pirates or developing superior naval technology, continuing to pose a threat to other villages.
“Um, this might sound greedy, but is there a way to deal with them permanently? Maybe by stopping their ability to reproduce?”
“…I’m afraid not. The goblins were not created by us but by their own god. All I can do is amplify the curse’s effects over time. But you don’t need to worry too much.”
“Why not?”
“If you eliminate the current catastrophe, most of the gods will likely grant your requests.”
“Whether they belong to the side of order or chaos, once a majority consensus is reached, the goblin god will be rendered obsolete.”
“Without divine protection, the goblins will lose their innate advantage and quickly go extinct.”
March 7’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by this revelation.
Unfortunately, before she could ask more, the duration of the divine revelation ended.
In an instant, her consciousness snapped back to her body.
When she opened her eyes, she found the others gathered around her, concern evident on their faces.
“Uh, guys? How long was I out?”
“That heavy ‘gamer withdrawal’ tone of yours is worrying,” Venti muttered under his breath, pointing at the unchanged sunlight outside.
“Only five minutes.”
“Five minutes? It felt like I was chatting with her for ages!”
March 7 shook her head, momentarily disoriented by the discrepancy in time flow.
Himeko, ever perceptive, caught onto her mention of someone else.
“You met the Earth Mother, didn’t you?”
“Ah, yes, I did. How should I put this… she’s a god that can’t be summed up in a few words.”
With a heavy sigh, March 7 began recounting everything she had witnessed and learned.
—
The group’s reactions varied, though the Silver Branch Knight, who March 7 thought would have the strongest response, remained the calmest of them all.
As a knight who wandered the stars in search of the Pure Beauty relics, he was devout and steadfast in his mission, yet remarkably accepting of such revelations.
After all, in the vast universe, these occurrences were likely commonplace to him—merely mutual agreements between parties with aligned goals.
Not being a member of the Astral Express crew, he didn’t participate in their discussions, choosing instead to observe quietly.
“So, what’s the plan now? Do we go after the other Demon Generals first, or head straight to the Demon King’s lair?” March 7 asked.
“Splitting up to tackle the other fronts could drag things out further,” Himeko replied, her tone decisive. “That would be counterproductive to recovering the Stellaron. We’ll likely need to divide our forces.”
Himeko saw the situation clearly: the Demon King, the gods, all of it was secondary to the Stellaron.
To address this planet’s problems, they needed to eliminate the source of its calamities.
As for dice rolls, fate, or destiny—what did those have to do with the Astral Express crew? They weren’t running a charity. Recovering the Stellaron was already an act of generosity, motivated by the Trailblazers’ moral compass rather than any obligation.
From both practical and philosophical standpoints, securing the Stellaron took precedence over everything else.
With the Stellaron located deep in the Demon King’s stronghold, tackling the Demon King was simply a logical step.
Finishing this task would not only resolve the root issue but also demonstrate their capabilities, hopefully deterring any further interference from the gods.
That said, the information March 7 had gathered couldn’t be ignored. Communicating with the other gods wasn’t a top priority, but it still had value.
After some thought, the team identified the most suitable person for this task—Venti.
Not only was he eloquent, but his status as a god made him uniquely qualified. The other gods would likely go to great lengths to win his favor, possibly even agreeing to eliminate the Goblin God entirely.
With this settled, their next steps became clear.
Himeko would lead the main team to the Demon King’s stronghold to defeat the yet-to-be-fully-revived Demon King.
Meanwhile, Venti would remain at the rear to meet with the arriving divine envoys, working to persuade as many as possible.
By the time the Stellaron was secured, Venti’s negotiations would hopefully be finalized, creating a win-win outcome.
Once the decision was made, the team wasted no time preparing. That very day, they finalized their routes and began their advance.
As they moved out, envoys from various religions arrived, seeking audiences with Venti.
Having met many of these gods before, Venti smoothly handled the encounters.
Whether through charm, veiled threats, or outright coercion (mostly with chaotic-aligned gods), he brokered deals that included extreme measures—like the annihilation of the Goblin God and the total eradication of the goblin race.
Such terms were signed into divine contracts, etched within the sacred texts of their faiths.
—
This is a fan translation of 星铁，开局一把琴，靠卖唱养活自己 by 灯子. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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