No—they had discovered it.

The research report submitted by the kingdom's most esteemed scholar, the High Priest of Death, was so absurd it bordered on the unbelievable.

"Those who serve as Divine Citizens—in other words, those who offer faith to the god—showed clear differences from those who pledge loyalty to the king."

"What kind of differences?"

"Their magical patterns contain a divine current—an energy flow that mirrors the god's own. It merges with their own mana structure and stimulates physical transformation. While we demi-humans can naturally evolve into higher variants through experience and strength, we can't change into entirely different species. But this divine current seems to interfere at the foundational level of existence, subtly transforming the body—just slightly—into something... godlike. We've observed this change in all who truly believe in the god, including us, the High Priests."

"Is that truly possible? We're not talking dozens—but hundreds of people? Without a single exception? Regardless of race? All showing the same phenomenon? How does it even affect their bodies?"

"It is... a change in existence."

The High Priest of Death didn't even bother wiping the sweat pouring from his face.

"The extension of lifespan is merely one part of this transformation. Those who are blessed by the god don't just live longer. They're stronger, faster, tireless—even compared to others of the same species and same level. It is as if... the god has granted a portion of His divine essence to those who have accepted Him as their deity."

"In simpler terms—what exactly are you saying?"

"Demi-humans like us can evolve into higher lifeforms through training and battle, or into special entities along our evolutionary lineage. But the god... He imbues a part of Himself into His faithful, fundamentally transforming them. This doesn't just affect demi-humans, either. Even humans—who should be incapable of such transformation—are showing changes. It defies all reason. I used to believe I understood this world as a scholar, but now... I realize I know nothing of His greatness. Hahaha..."

They had set out to find a solution—yet in the face of the god's overwhelming power, all they felt was helplessness.

To think that He could bestow His essence to hundreds of individuals, reshaping their very existence...

And that increased lifespan was merely one of many effects?

The High Priest of Death was sweating as if in a storm, and everyone present understood the meaning behind it.

It was no ordinary perspiration. It was sweat born from awe, disbelief, and resignation.

It was sweat that might as well have been tears.

And so, they kept repeating the same question over and over:

"How can this be real...?"

"Because it is real… Because it is possible… that is what makes Him a god. Hahaha… Oh divine one… please forgive this lowly creation for daring to try and comprehend your glory…"

"My gods… then that means... there's no solution...?"

"There isn't. There never was. Hahaha… From the beginning, all our efforts were in vain…"

Monkyspanner could still recall the hollow laugh of the High Priest as if it had happened yesterday.

Though he wasn't particularly bright when it came to scholarly matters, he understood enough: The god's power was so far beyond their reach, it existed in a completely different realm.

There was nothing they could do.

So instead of a solution, they chose damage control.

Thus came the policy of Separation.

They began separating the faithful—those who believed in the god—from the rest. Divine Citizens and Royal Citizens were now distinct.

And while their races and appearances remained the same, they were now sorted into different social strata.

At first, they expected backlash.

But time would eventually resolve that.

Royal Citizens would age and die naturally.

Divine Citizens, as long as they didn't neglect their training, would continue to grow stronger, live longer—and eventually, the divide would widen all on its own.

"We're creating discrimination... within the same nation…"

"What choice do we have?"

"...Then we must proceed."

It was a grim, dreadful policy.

But it was necessary.

If they did nothing, riots could erupt.

So, before things got out of control, they began a mass survey of magical patterns to identify Divine and Royal Citizens and began the separation.

Fortunately, even amidst the growing unrest, the people still trusted their god and honored their king.

Their loyalty, for the most part, was unwavering.

Most citizens accepted the division quietly.

But the real time bomb… had yet to explode.

That danger lay with the first generation born in this world—

The children born after their descent into this new realm.

And they… were the true issue.

Strangely, the children born after the descent lacked the blind faith or devotion of their predecessors.

They obeyed, yes.

They followed the god and the laws of the kingdom—but only because their parents did.

Their belief… was imitation.

And so began the next crisis.

Yet, amidst the investigation, a new and troubling truth emerged.

It wasn't just children born between two Royal Citizens who were outside the god's blessing—but even those born between a Divine Citizen and a Royal Citizen, or even between two Divine Citizens, were also excluded from receiving the divine grace.

On this, the High Priest of Death offered a speculative explanation:

"Perhaps… when we fell into this world, the god, concerned for His people amidst an unfamiliar land, used the last of His strength to bestow His grace upon as many of us as possible—before falling into slumber…"

If that were true, then this entire situation suddenly made more sense.

It would explain why even children of blessed parents no longer inherited that grace—because the number of those who could be blessed had been predetermined from the very beginning.

But accepting that brought forth an even graver issue.

If one of the blessed were to die…

Would that vacant spot allow someone else to receive the god's grace?

Or would it simply vanish, lost forever?

In the worst case, people might begin killing one another for the chance to take their place.

That must never happen.

The kingdom itself could crumble into ruin.

And so, this theory—agreed upon by all twelve High Priests—was sealed away in strict secrecy.

Testing it? Verifying it through experimentation?

Impossible.

All were children of the god. Performing experiments on the living was unthinkable.

Even if they tried, the act would leave traces. It was too dangerous to even consider. Better to bury it forever.

Had the divine grace been limited to just the High Priests or the kingdom's highest elites, at least there would've been justification—that the god entrusted His power to those most worthy.

But this?

A blessing randomly scattered across the populace?

A divine gift that was indistinguishable from a curse.

Even one of the most devoted High Priests had once whispered in bitter doubt:

"Is this truly a blessing… or is it a trial?"

Regardless, with no solutions in sight, they did what had to be done.

As decided in the council, the population was officially divided: Divine Citizens and Royal Citizens.

The two classes were never to mix again.

Those identified as Divine Citizens were relocated to the empty fifth stratum—the city once home to the gods, now repurposed as a special residential zone.

The Royal Citizens remained on the first stratum, living as they always had.

With that, the crisis appeared… at least on the surface… to be contained.

But it only seemed that way.

"Why?! How could our parents accept such an absurd decision so easily? We won't stand for it!"

"Adults who let gods divide people are the ones who need fixing!"

Even before the segregation was fully complete, it happened—

A rebellion, led by the first generation of children born in this new world.

They rejected the division between citizen classes.

They refused to be separated from their parents and friends.

From a human standpoint, it made sense.

But in a worsening political climate, it became nothing more than a riot—one that had to be put down.

The High Priests quickly deployed the Kingdom Guard to suppress the insurrection.

Though it was quelled swiftly, by the time order was restored, a number of children had already slipped past the gates and escaped into the outside world.

But with all of Shinshi engulfed in confusion, no one had realized it in time.

No one had imagined that the citizens would ever defy the kingdom.

The populace had always obeyed their superiors—had always followed the kingdom's laws and the god's will without question.

Even the High Priests were stunned.

Why would the people disobey the kingdom?

After all, the citizens were born from the god's design and were meant to serve and obey the state.

To live as a person—yes, that was a blessing.

But this city itself, Shinshi, was a divine miracle, a gift from the god.

To enjoy that miracle, loyalty to the god was mandatory.

And yet… those children—

While the rulers were still caught in confusion, the children had vanished beyond their reach.

It wasn't until over a decade later that the separation between Divine and Royal Citizens was finally complete.

Only after capturing and reeducating the remaining troublemakers did the High Priests finally begin to breathe easy again.

But then came a new wave of panic.

After all, these children were still born and raised in Shinshi.

Every child in Shinshi, during basic education, trained their bodies in the small dungeon adjacent to the second stratum's mines.

Upon adulthood, depending on one's vocation, they would continue their development in the larger dungeons of the third and fourth strata.

Even basic training alone gave them strength and skills far beyond what the outside world would consider normal.

So their safety was never the issue.

The real threat was something else entirely.

"Outside this city, there are beings dangerous enough to threaten even our level of strength. It's late, but we must dispatch a search party and bring the children back—immediately."

"Yes, and not just for their safety! Don't forget—the real problem is what happens if they reveal the truth about Shinshi and the god!"

The children who had fled lacked proper reverence for the divine, and their loyalty to Shinshi was weak at best.

If any of them were to speak openly about the existence of the city or the god…

It could provoke war.

"Surely you've studied the history of the outside world. You've seen the legends. We could end up like the Eight Greed Kings!"

The history of the outside world—preserved only in myths and legends—was still known by the High Priests.

And they knew that those stories were far closer to the truth than the rest of the world believed.

Just as their own god had fallen into this world with His people, it was entirely possible that other divine beings had descended elsewhere with their followers and territories.

The stories of the Six Great Gods and the Eight Greed Kings were not just fairy tales.

They were warnings.

The reason for the hundred-year gap is still unclear, but one thing remains certain—the actions of the Eight Greed Kings were undeniably problematic.

They declared war upon this world, seeking to conquer it and place it beneath their feet.

In response, the guardians of this realm—creatures who, while inferior to the gods, still possessed formidable power—rose to resist them.

These were the Dragon Kings. After a fierce and devastating war, the Eight Greed Kings initially defeated the Dragon Kings.

However, infighting broke out among their own ranks, and in the aftermath, the recovering Dragon Kings launched a counterattack and wiped them out completely.

Though the tale sounds more like legend than history, evidence of its truth remains.

When the Greed Kings descended upon this world, they resided in a floating fortress—an enormous structure in the sky.

A scouting party managed to confirm its existence.

With such undeniable proof, it became clear: the Six Great Gods and Eight Greed Kings were god-like beings who, like the denizens of Shinshi, had descended into this world.

And now, if those runaway fools who fled into the outside world ever spoke carelessly about Shinshi, they might very well repeat the fate of the Greed Kings.

Though those kids never declared war or sought to rule the world, there was no telling how the Dragon Kings—guardians of this world—might perceive them.

Having once been threatened, they might take action before disaster could bloom again. Even if war erupted, Shinshi had no intention of losing—but disturbing the slumber of the god?

That was something to be avoided at all costs.

A rescue team—or rather, a pursuit unit—was quickly assembled.

They began tracking down the runaways.

Under the high priest of earth's World Search, which could cast supreme-tier magic through ritual sacrifice, the fugitives were apprehended one by one.

And yet… several remained missing.

Fearing the possibility that rumors about Shinshi might spread, the pursuit unit, unable to return until the threat was eliminated, searched with burning determination—prepared, if necessary, to slaughter every intelligent lifeform in the vicinity of any rumor's source.

"What do we do now? We can't track them any further. They've probably acquired some artifact to avoid detection."

"Damn it… If it's come to this, we have no choice. This is a game of patience—either they break, or we do. I'll stay behind until every last one of them is caught or disappears from this world for good!"

So swore Dragon High Priest Drake, grinding his teeth.

To carry out this mission, he used high-tier transformation magic to mask his true form, assuming the guise of a human and blending into the outside world as an adventurer.

Before long, he had established his own organization.

Thus was born Dragon's Dream—an adventurer guild formed out of necessity, created to monitor the outside world without exposing Shinshi's full strength.

There was even talk of founding a nation to support this purpose—but managing Shinshi was already taxing enough.

Creating a kingdom on top of that was deemed too burdensome and was ultimately abandoned.

After all, for sweeping reconnaissance across the continent, no cover identity worked better than that of an adventurer.

Additionally, by leveraging their fame and strength, they could lure local talent to serve as informants.

A single genius can achieve what a hundred mediocrities cannot. But a hundred mediocrities may notice things that even a genius overlooks.

Since Shinshi couldn't afford to spare too many personnel, this compromise was unavoidable.

Years passed in that fashion—Drake roamed the continent under his adventurer identity, scouring the land.

And then… one day… someone found him.

"You… Are you the one who represents Shinshi, the one fallen from Yggdrasil?"

A suit of armor. Empty—yet moving, and clearly sentient.

This being had captured several long-lost fugitives and delivered them, tightly bound.

They suspected it to be a messenger, or perhaps an avatar, sent by some distant observer.

It introduced itself:

"I am Tsaindoruks Vaision. In this world, they call me the Platinum Dragon Lord. I've brought these children. In exchange, I would like to speak with you."

That day marked the first true exchange between Shinshi and the outside world.

…

As a faint shimmer of platinum light reflected in the distance, Monkyspanner murmured, pulled from his thoughts.

"Tch… What are the odds? I was just thinking about that bastard, and now here he is, showing up like a ghost."

Well, not that it's surprising.

After all, that animated suit of armor is practically a ghost.

He's the only member of the Twelve High Priests who wasn't born in Shinshi.

The only one still actively maintaining contact with the outside world.

His name? The ridiculously long Tsaindoruks Vaision, otherwise known by his ostentatious title: The Platinum Dragon Lord.

But to those who've earned his trust… he allows them to call him by a surprisingly cute nickname.

And of course, he sits among Shinshi's Twelve High Priests.

"Oi! Chaa~! Been a while, huh?!"