Reincarnated as a Dungeon Master, I Became Unstoppable by Doting on My Monsters—My Gorgeous Monsters Have Started to Conquer the World on Their Own!

“You know… usually, gods only allow up to three questions. But since you two are a pair and it’d be annoying if you started fighting, I’ll allow two questions per person.”

Goddess Nanaya, despite appearing to be short on time since earlier, spoke as if she was savoring the moment.

Now that we were allowed to ask questions, I decided to ask something that had to be addressed before we could proceed.

“First off, from me. Why is it necessary to rule over humans?”

Exactly. I’d initially thought she would demand either killing humans or turning monsters into goddesses. Well, if I don’t have to commit mass murder, that’s a plus. I’ve been unable to predict the flow of the conversation so far, so I’m somewhat lost.

“You’re asking that? Well, I guess you would. You’re not my cleric, after all. My clerics wouldn’t care about the ‘why.’ If you served me and I said eat dirt, you’d eat it without question.”

She spoke as if telling a fairy tale.

“For some reason, one of them, the Earth Goddess Etina, died and gave birth to this Earth. Gods are supposed to be immortal, but Etina was an exception.”

Her voice was filled with various tones, more captivating than soothing—a voice you could never tire of hearing.

“The first-generation gods then decided to have children. No particular reason; it just happens when there are men and women.”

She continued calmly.

“However, we gods were too perfect. We possessed the ability most essential to living beings—giving birth to strong children. So, we gods were set. Even if external enemies appeared, as long as we kept having children, they’d grow increasingly stronger.”

I realized she was narrating this story in formal speech not for our sake but to distance herself from the characters in the story.

“Therefore, the second-generation gods were stronger than the first-generation gods. They admired their real parents. Everything was fine up to that point.”

At that moment, her gaze shifted, drifting downward at an angle.

“The second-generation gods created you humans as servants for cooking meals. What do you think was the reason for that?”

In situations like this, where a superior asks a question, it’s tricky to know whether giving the correct answer is the best course of action. However, she seemed to desire a clever servant, so I sought the right solution.

“Is it so that the servant can prepare meals for them?”

When a person who can prepare meals for themselves asks another to do it, the only plausible reason would be that they want someone else to prepare it for them.

“Correct. How arrogant of you to think like a god.”

It’s absurd to be criticized even when I gave the correct answer.

“Yes, at first, humans were toys created on a whim. We gods were like, ‘Look, we’ve made many creatures similar to us and called them humans. They even fall in love just like us! Isn’t it interesting?'”

At first… which probably means that these playthings called humans eventually led to some severe consequences.

“It’s just like the beginning of the myths of this world.”

Her explanation continued.

“However, perhaps it was a mistake to make humans in the image of gods because they did not work. So, we decided to punish them. Those who did not serve the gods would be struck by storms, overseen by the Storm God Uturelim. But humans built houses to weather the storms. Then we made it so those who didn’t serve the gods would fall ill. The God of Disease, Eirissabigal, took charge. Yet, humans have advanced medicine. Then there were droughts and locust plagues, but humans overcame them all.”

It’s inappropriate, but it reminded me of training AI. It’s like setting up punishments to make the AI listen, much like training animals… Since gods initially created humans as a side project, the sensation must not have been that different from dealing with cutting-edge AI.

“What do you think happened next?”

At this point, the Goddess Nanaya turned the conversation back to me.

“In my world, the gods eventually unleashed a flood that wiped out everyone except for the wise.”

This part is standard in Earth’s myths, where the gods become infuriated and wipe out only a few with a flood.

“Ah, I see. The gods in your world were extreme. But you’re mistaken. The second-generation gods made an entity called ‘monsters’ by ‘ranking up,’ to outdo any human countermeasures as their science progressed.”

“The monsters feed on each other and grow to a point where humans can’t defeat them without divine blessings. …Terrible. Monsters are created to be treated like diseases, droughts, and storms, you know?”

At that moment, the expression on Goddess Nanaya’s face clouded over for the first time.

Caught off guard, I hesitated.

“Is that so?”

“You look like you’re not following.”

She seemed to think my stumbling words meant I was lost.

“No, the story is quite interesting, but…”

“I’m not telling you all this for your entertainment! If you’d researched myths more diligently over the last ten years, we could’ve skipped this entire explanation!”

She slammed her hand onto the bed, clearly angry. So, all of this was public knowledge, after all.

If that was the case… I should’ve asked Jacqueline in advance. Why was the once reluctant Goddess Nanaya now so willingly explaining all this?

Suddenly, I recalled the tale of a god who, being omniscient, could not betray his own words. Perhaps she had a similar restriction; once she agreed to answer my questions, she had to explain everything.

“And so, the second generation had children.”

She continued talking without berating me any further. Could it be that this history she’s discussing is that important? Perhaps hearing this will compel me to want to help with every fiber of my being.

“So, including me, the third generation was born. But then, a huge problem arose due to the laziness of the second-generation gods. About 50 of them, half of them—can you believe it—left the child-rearing to humans. What a disastrous decision, the worst in the history of the heavens.”

She continued to speak with a look of disdain as if discussing something contemptible.

“Remember what I said earlier? The third-generation gods are stronger than the second-generation gods. Yet, because humans raised them, some of these third-generation gods started saying, ‘Our parents are humans.'”

“Blood is thicker than water, they say. More gods have started valuing the humans who listened to and cared for them when they were young over their divine parents they hardly know.”

“Once that happened, things became problematic. The third-generation gods started doing things like granting their beloved priests immortality or semi-divinity. Can you believe that these gods—essentially toys thought up on a whim by the second-generation gods—began to claim that humans mattered more than their divine parents? It’s incomprehensible to the second generation.”

I don’t know of any cases where kids raised by AI became die-hard AI fans, but I can imagine it could happen. So, I get the sentiment.

“Truly ridiculous. Goddess Navalbi raised me, so I despise humans.”

She said, without a hint of a smile.

“So, speaking of which, you know about the Veil Martiti Guard, right?” Goddess Nanaya suddenly changed the topic to Jacqueline.

“…Yes. They’re the greatest threat in the dungeon.”

I wasn’t aware, but judging from the flow of the conversation, it seems like a group of people who received blessings from a god who loves humans.

“Well, you’re aware. Many people abandoned their previous gods to serve Goddess Veil Martiti, who granted her followers immortality. Why wouldn’t they? Until now, gods only gave blessings that were useful for defeating monsters. Now, they’re granting eternal life. It’s a total blessing inflation.”

Overshadowed by the commanding presence of Goddess Nanaya, the priest from earlier had offered her some fruit at some point. She accepted it as if it were the most natural thing in the world and began to eat.

“Nom nom, gulp. So, believers from various places started gathering at the Veil Martiti Temple. She wouldn’t even when other gods told her to stop stealing their priests, leading to fights.”

Though she was eating the fruit uncouthly, her beauty made even that seem elegant. Being truly beautiful is an advantage.