A Certain Multiverse's Holy Right

In Jerusalem, Roy and Roman walked unhurriedly down the street. Today was the seventh day, the Sabbath bestowed by God.

"This is the Wailing Wall. The temple you built was the First Temple of the Jewish nation, while this is a section of the protective wall of the Second Temple of the ancient Jewish nation. It is also the only remaining relic of the Second Temple's wall. Judaism has always regarded this wall as its most sacred site. For thousands of years, Jews scattered across the world would return to the holy city of Jerusalem and come before this stone wall to pray softly, crying over the pain of exile. Thus, it is called the Wailing Wall."

Roy brought Roman to the Wailing Wall, one of Jerusalem's famous landmarks. Around them were many tourists, as well as Jews who had once been scattered around the world, now devoutly praying here.

Jerusalem is a magical city. It houses the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, said to be the location of Jesus's tomb in Christianity; the Dome of the Rock, one of the oldest sites in Islam; and the Wailing Wall, Judaism's most sacred site. This city carries the glory of the entire Abrahamic faiths and has been fiercely contested throughout history.

The glory of God shines bright; the land of Canaan truly lives up to its name.

The two men wore small paper hats, as is customary for locals and visitors at the Wailing Wall, and Roy had no intention of breaking the rule.

"This place truly carries the weight of human history. It is a cornerstone of human order. The Age of Gods must eventually end—humans and gods must be distinctly separated."

Although King Solomon had become Roman and gained humanity, it did not mean he had relinquished King Solomon's power and memories. Thus, when he faced such ancient human relics, he could not help but sigh deeply.

He was the God's proxy, the final bridge between God and humanity. After his death, the order of divine began to fade from his world, and the era of human order fully emerged.

"But the First Temple you built has been completely lost to history. Although I uncovered some ruins at Mount Moriah, they hardly qualify as even fragments of walls. King Solomon, the third and greatest king of the ancient Jewish nation, left behind so few documents and relics that people even question whether you truly existed. What do you make of this, Roman?"

Roy stood by the Wailing Wall, casually chatting with the wise king, as though transcending time and history to recreate ancient miracles here.

"As Roman, I feel a tinge of regret. Those artifacts were precious relics and a testament to the bond between humans and gods. But as King Solomon, it was my mission. In that era, there were too many things tied to gods, but these were not what humanity needed. That's why King Solomon deliberately destroyed them, to prevent their continuation."

Roman raised an innocent smile. He scratched the back of his head, his eyes narrowing with embarrassment as he smiled shyly, like a boy next door.

Roy pondered his words. "So, King Solomon offered sacrifices to many gods in his later years to destroy remnants of the Age of Gods, ensuring they wouldn't affect the rise of Age of Humans? Perhaps Qin Shi Huang's burning of the mysteries of the Age of Gods was for the same reason—to welcome human order to replace divine one."

Thus, King Solomon established the most prosperous dynasty in Israel, yet left behind so few documents and relics that it seemed implausible. The truth was that King Solomon himself had intentionally destroyed and erased traces of his existence, for his presence represented the final connection between humans and gods. He was the last legacy of the divine, and that was precisely what he needed to eliminate.

In this moment, Roy suddenly gained insight. Perhaps King Solomon's ultimate goal was to ensure his complete disappearance, leaving no trace of himself behind.

Before the Wailing Wall, some faced the wall, pouring out their sorrow; some bowed deeply in prayer; some silently recited the Bible; some kissed the Wailing Wall; and some slipped white paper notes into the cracks of the wall.

Seeing the notes, Roman asked curiously, "...What are they doing?"

"The believers here believe that if they write their heartfelt wishes on a piece of paper and place it in the cracks of the Wailing Wall, it is like writing a letter to God. They believe God will receive it."

Roy explained.

Roman suddenly became interested. He borrowed paper and pen from someone, wrote something in ancient Hebrew on it, then folded it reverently and carefully and stuffed it into the crevice of the stone.

After he finished, he smiled with joy: "...In this way, the Lord will know what I want to say to Him."

"What did you write in it?" Roy asked with interest.

"It's a secret!"

This time, Roman rarely avoided answering Roy's question.

Seeing this, Roy just laughed. He had no intention of prying into Roman's secret thoughts. If he did, Roman would probably get angry.

Although, even if Roman did get angry, handing him a piece of strawberry cake would quickly bring a smile back to his face.

There was sadness in front of the Wailing Wall, but there was also joy and happiness. The coming-of-age ceremonies for Jewish boys were often held here in the presence of their families. Amid blessings, laughter, and celebration, they marked the boy's transition into adulthood. The ancient King Solomon, too, offered his blessings to the descendants of his people.

The two left the Wailing Wall, wandering through the ancient city's timeworn streets.

"I was wary and suspicious of you at first," Roy began. "Even though you seemed harmless over the past few days, I could feel that you hadn't truly opened your heart. Your interactions with people stayed on the surface—you didn't really connect with anyone."

Roy had opted not to wear his cardinal robes today, knowing they were far too conspicuous. Instead, he walked casually, his right hand stuffed in his pocket, chatting with Roman in an unhurried manner. There was no air of confrontation between a Campione and a Heretic God.

"But over the last two days, I could feel you finally letting go and truly becoming part of the group."

Hearing Roy's words, Roman chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "…Actually, I was scared. I was afraid of seeing sad things. I thought that if I got too close to people and then had to leave after seven days, it would hurt too much. So I kept avoiding it… But in the end, I realized that people should communicate honestly with each other. Without doing that, you'll never truly understand human emotions.

"…Humans are remarkable. They know that certain things will bring sadness and heartbreak, yet they still do them with tears in their eyes. But I feel lucky—grateful, even—because I finally got to be human."

Roman spoke sincerely.

After a brief pause, he hesitated, his expression showing fear and reluctance. "...Seven days ago, as King Solomon, I was resolute about leaving on this day. But now that I've experienced life as a human, I'm scared. I don't want to die. Do you think I'm a coward?"

"Yes, you're a coward," Roy replied, smiling. "But there's no need to feel guilty or ashamed. Fear of death is just part of being human. So, coward, how about we check out that dessert shop over there? I'll treat you to one last piece of cake."

Roy pointed toward a dessert shop ahead that seemed popular with a steady stream of customers. "…Though I doubt the desserts there can compare to the ones at the hotel. After all, it's just a small roadside shop."

"It doesn't matter. As long as it's strawberry cake, I'll love it. I'm not picky."

Roman smiled brightly. At that moment, he finally made his decision.

It was sad, and it was terrifying, but it was something he had to do.

Because a Heretic God was a disaster—a destroyer of the human order.