Xin Yu hadn't actually found this specific village initially. While flying randomly through the sky earlier, he had suddenly spotted a bonfire lit in one area. Figuring there must be people there, and noting the large amount of smoke which suggested a significant amount of firewood being burned, he estimated it was likely a village.
So, his original intention was simply to come here and ask for directions. He hadn't expected to witness such a heavyweight scene the moment he arrived.
Fortunately, he arrived just in time—or rather, like a hero in a scripted play, always making his entrance right on cue.
Xin Yu frowned as he surveyed the surrounding group of villagers. He was somewhat unsure how to deal with them.
He knew what these villagers had done: human sacrifice. This practice, deeply abhorrent in any era, was indeed an error of the times, a symbol of a civilization's ignorance.
These villagers were uneducated and didn't understand the natural laws of the world. They merely relied on their limited cognition to invent a god. Then, to obtain this god's blessings, they devised all sorts of methods to appease it, with human sacrifice being what they considered the highest form of offering.
They were wrong. They were ignorant. They were benighted.
So, what should I do?
Sigh! As the saying goes, "Without experiencing others' suffering, don't advise them to be good." Shouldn't I just hand the choice over to the person involved?
The one harmed, the one about to be sacrificed, was the girl behind him. If this girl forgave these villagers, then he would spare them. If the girl didn't forgive them, then he would... slaughter them all.
Perhaps everyone present has forgotten a very important fact: this young man is a bewildered youth, groping his way through the world relying on fragmented residual memories after suffering amnesia.
His previous pursuit of good deeds was, in essence, merely an induced behavior stemming from his innate morality and the lingering remnants of past cognitions in his mind. After being infected by the Void, he would perform good deeds to gain a sliver of satisfaction for the emptiness in his heart, but this didn't mean he was the kind of good person everyone generally considers.
Because his memories were fragmented, his knowledge and various moral cognitions were also somewhat incomplete.
Due to the lack of proper guidance, Xin Yu's current way of thinking was rather extreme, or perhaps, somewhat pure.
If you are a good person, an innocent person, someone forced into a desperate situation, someone worthy of sympathy, and you have encountered danger and harm, then I must save you, even if I end up battered and bruised.
But if you are an evil person, one who persecutes others without reason, a sinner who evokes no pity.
Then, if you cannot obtain the victim's forgiveness, you deserve to die.
As for a less extreme, more moderate approach? As a young man whose past educational experiences had been shattered into fragments, he honestly couldn't think of one.
When Xin Yu snapped back from his thoughts, the man whose dagger had been shattered and who was in a daze, also reacted instantly. He immediately fell to his knees, kowtowing to the youth who had descended from the sky.
"A god has descended! This is a god descending!"
The man shouted at the top of his lungs, causing the initially bewildered and somewhat fearful villagers to come to their senses.
One by one, they continued to kowtow on the ground, repeatedly crying out "God," even though they had no idea what their god was supposed to look like. But how could an existence capable of descending from the sky not be considered a god?
Xin Yu ignored the villagers' shouts. He turned around and looked at the little girl tied to the post, at the wounds on her hands and feet. Her tendons in her hands and feet must have been severed.
"Child, tell big brother, are these villagers who wanted to use you as a sacrifice bad people?"
Xin Yu's face was wreathed in a gentle smile.
"Lord God..."
Yae Rin trembled slightly. Although this Lord God who had saved her was indeed smiling, for some reason, young as she was, she could sense that this Lord God might be a little angry. If she were to say now that these villagers were all bad people, the Lord God's wrath would surely fall upon them, and everyone would die.
"Lord God... are you angry?" Yae Rin asked cautiously.
"Mm, I despise human sacrifice."
As soon as these words were spoken, the villagers lost in their fervent worship of the god might not have heard, but the man kneeling just behind—the shrine's priest—was now drenched in sweat.
The man, who had lived in the shrine since he was young, had never seen any god, any divine miracle, or any divine favor. He had witnessed none of these things.
The god had never manifested. But in recent years, due to the famine, they had no choice but to pray for the god's power, which was why they had resorted to human sacrifice. A month ago, they had already sacrificed a young girl, but the god had not sent rain. So, everyone assumed that girl had lost her chastity, and thus the god had not bestowed its grace.
And as the shrine priest, he knew that if they continued to fail in their pleas for rain, the villagers might question the god's power, or perhaps even the legitimacy of the shrine, ultimately leading to unimaginable dire consequences. He had to make a decision.
So, he had chosen his own daughter as the sacrificial offering, praying that it could truly draw forth the god's power.
Good news: the god had indeed descended because of this. Bad news: the god despised human sacrifice.
This meant that the sacrifice a month ago had indeed had an effect, but not a positive one—rather, a negative one.
Perhaps that time, because the god took into account their family's generations of offerings, it had not appeared, nor had it punished them.
But now, they had once again performed this act that the god detested, so the god had descended, and might even bring punishment upon the village.
...It's over!
As for why the god didn't offer a warning if it disliked it, the man believed this must be his own failing as the shrine priest. If the god's will had to be clearly conveyed every single time, then what use was he, the shrine priest?!
The god had already withheld rain for a month; this must have been a warning. And he had misinterpreted this warning, leading to the current disastrous outcome!
"I'm sorry, Lord God," the little girl said in a soft, timid voice.
"You haven't made any mistakes, so why are you apologizing to me?"
"Because... everyone made a mistake. If we can't obtain Lord God's forgiveness, everyone will surely be punished."
"...So, you don't want these people to pay the price for what happened tonight?"
"...Everyone just wants to live. They have no other way."
Xin Yu cut the ropes binding the girl, then let her sit on the ground. He turned and walked over to the only one not kneeling, the young woman in miko attire.
"And you? Do you want the villagers to pay the price?"
Yae Sakura looked at the "god" before her, then took a deep breath and knelt on the ground, her eyes filled with reverence for the divine being.
"It is entirely up to you, Lord God."
"...Alright. Since the parties involved have spoken, there's no need for me to do anything excessive... You want rain?"
Xin Yu raised his head, looking at the sky. Then, his eyes were tinged with a hint of gray.
The kowtowing crowd first felt a slight chill, then a sensation of dampness began to spread over their entire bodies.
The villagers raised their heads one by one, looking at the heavy rain pouring down from the sky. Every face was filled with excited and fervent faith.
They didn't get up to cheer, nor did they sing and dance. Instead, they continued to kowtow on the ground, hailing the god!
At this moment, the god's mighty power had been displayed before mortals. The young man standing before them was their god.
Xin Yu walked over to the post where the girl had been tied earlier, transformed the post into a large oil-paper umbrella, opened it, and sheltered Yae Sakura, Yae Rin, and himself.
Then, the miko and her sister heard the Lord God say with a hint of helplessness,
"I'm not a god, ah."