When these bright red flowers reach the most beautiful stage of their lives, if no one picks them, the petals will fall at their most fragrant and brilliant moment. They swirl up into the sky on the wind until they join the river of petals.
This is a tradition that has never stopped or been broken in three thousand years. It's not limited to one race; it's an annual festival for all lives on Disboard—The Flower Dance Festival.
According to ancient legend, when the sky was covered by these petals, the long war stopped. It is a festival of peace, and over time, it has evolved into a festival for all kinds of blessings.
It is currently the peak season for the Think-flowers. The One True God's endorsement has made most lives in every race love this flower. What originally only grew in the Elven territories has now spread across the continent.
Mhm, incidentally, after all this time, the Think-flower also represents courtship and love. Many young people of various races will offer a bouquet of Think-flowers as a hint of their feelings before confessing.
Similarly, those who are already married and have families will give each other these flowers to express that their love will never change.
Back to the Flower Dance Festival: people exchange gifts, bless each other, light bonfires, and feast on meat... even the fireworks and magical glows that start before nightfall make the blue sky even more brilliant.
This spectacle never gets old, whether you're a child running through the streets or an elder leaning on a cane by your door. The bright red petals swirling through the layers of fireworks are never harmed; the fragrance they scatter makes the whole world intoxicated.
Only on the day of the Flower Dance Festival is the sky perfectly clear, the sun not too bright, and the temperature mild. Even if the day before was a violent storm threatening to drown the city, if the next day is the festival, it will be sunny—all races know this is the One True God's blessing.
And so, they revel.
They don't rot, they don't wither. The time on these petals seems to have stopped the moment they left the stem. On this day, parents will tell their children stories they heard when they were young. If they're lucky, they might look up at the red curtain in the sky and see a petal or two that fell three thousand years ago, then argue quietly about who is right.
Bright red, dark red, wine red... people always find evidence for their guesses. But as I said, no one can approach the river of petals or the palace to verify, so it's just a little bit of fun for the day.
I walked through such a festival, measuring this city—which seemed to have expanded again—with my steps. The fireworks were pretty; even that Azril would praise them once or twice, though both she and I prefer a different kind of "flower"... blood-flowers.
But those are hard to see in this era. At least, they aren't something you see just by going out and lifting a hand.
"So~ that means I win~. According to the pledge~ these candies are mine~"
The owner of this voice sounded incredibly happy, with the end of his sentences drifting up. But beneath his happy voice was a chorus of children's wails, some nearing tears.
But despite being children, they didn't try to go back on their word. Well, it's hard to tell if it's because of their good upbringing or the compulsion of the pledge, but one thing was certain: they had to watch that bad guy open the handful of candies with an exaggerated flourish and pour them all into his mouth at once.
He isn't even afraid of cavities!!!
I can't say if I envy that courage, but several fragile children did cry on the spot.
"Can't be helped~, the pledge is the pledge, it cannot be broken~~"
"If you're really unhappy, then win next time. Then you can take the candy~... although winning against me is completely impossible~"
It's hard to imagine the poor children being mocked so ruthlessly by this malicious guy. From that perspective, he was really going too far.
On this world called Disboard, the pledge established by the One True God is a rule that every race must follow and cannot break.
It is a world where war and violence are completely forbidden, and everything is decided by "games." Rules must be followed, and bets must be fulfilled.
I looked at the guy wearing the same hat with the club and spade symbols on it. Yes, heterochromatic eyes, looking only about ten years old, two long ribbons extending from his red jacket, currently floating freely in the air, with a red heart on his right cheek—unquestionably that guy, the current One True God, Tet.
This shameless guy actually came here to play games with children and steal their candy. Even I wouldn't do something so tasteless... probably... right?
But compared to this foolish One True God I know well, I was also surprised by the one standing beside him with the human children.
"Negation protocol initiated: Error. The One True God Tet is not invincible."
A calm, mechanical voice. Just looking at the unhidden mechanical wing from her back and the exposed wires and silver metal parts on her body was enough to know her race—Ex-Machina.
"Heart... says so. So it can be done," the black-haired Ex-Machina insisted.
Though she mentioned "Heart," and an outsider might think she was talking about her own inner feelings, both Tet and I knew who she was referring to.
The Old Zeus who indirectly created all the Ex-Machina, who was born before all other Old Zeuss, and who fell into confusion earlier, constantly searching for the meaning of her own existence—The God of the Ex-Machina, Heart.