Measuring Stupidity

When the human dashed off, Enanon followed. Not once did the human look back—Blind faith. Enanon had to admit, he was somewhat impressed. So, this human was capable of faith.

When the human bolted, Enanon followed. The human never once looked back—completely confident that Enanon would trail behind. For a thief, this mortal was capable of such faith. Not even the most devout followers of the church exhibited such unquestioning trust, to walk forward and simply believe—the very essence of faith. And yet, this human was displaying it effortlessly. Begrudgingly, Enanon was impressed.

Enanon hadn't ascended to godhood yet, hadn't ever been on the receiving end of faith. This was the first time he had truly encountered it, and the sensation was curious.

This must be what it feels like to be a god, he mused, keeping pace with the reckless human.

As they neared the exit the human had so confidently chosen, a thought occurred to Enanon. It would be interesting to test this human. From his observations, the mortal had an extraordinary talent for making a fool of himself, but just how deep did that foolishness run? Did this creature possess even a shred of sense?

And so, Enanon found himself bearing witness, to the stupidity the human had in spades. The human was careless, impulsive, and insatiably greedy. It was a cruel twist of fate that Enanon should be shackled to such a worthless specimen. Oh, and there it was—the human had managed to worsen his situation in the most spectacular fashion.

If Enanon weren't the one cursed to endure this idiot's antics, he might have laughed when the fool accidentally sprayed himself with the drug. But no—there was no humor to be found in his reality. If the human didn't learn to curb his reckless impulses, Enanon would find himself cleaning up after his blunders every day until his cursed task was complete and the world, somehow, was saved.

________________

As consciousness slowly bubbled to the surface, Maria became aware of a throbbing soreness in his neck. His back, too, felt awkwardly twisted. Instinctively, he tried to move his hands to rub at the sore spots—only to find he couldn't.

Then, the events leading up to this moment came rushing back, jolting him into full alertness. His hands and feet were bound. As his vision cleared, he realized it wasn't a rope that was binding him—it was a spell—of all things.

"Well, shit," Maria thought. He could work with ropes. Spells? Not so much. Magic wasn't exactly in his wheelhouse. He'd tried learning it once—back when he was younger, overly ambitious, and thought it would be cool to pull off heists with a little magical flair. But the moment he cracked open the first page of that book—a book he'd swiped from a city library—it became painfully clear: magic and Maria were never going to be a thing.

What the hell do you mean magic particles are shaped like a snub dodecahedron? What even is a snub docadoron? He's already messing up the pronunciation isn't he? Whatever.

Apparently, casting magic required vividly imagining those horrid little particles unwind their shape, and then picturing them bonding with equally hideous ones. Nope. He dropped that book on the side of the road as fast as he could. His dreams of becoming a spell-slinger could cry in the corner, but there was no way he was learning magic—not even if his life depended on it.

Now, here he was, trapped by a spell made of those same ugly particles. Great. He huffed, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He was outside the mansion, lying on the ground, and three guards were standing over him, staring.

Maria made eye contact with one of them.

"Finally awake, are we?" the guard said, stepping forward. His slanted eyes drilled into Maria's skull.

"Tell me, who sent you here?"

Maria figured there was no point in lying, so he went with the truth.

"I pissed off the Seenam gang, so they blackmailed me into kidnapping the merchant's daughter."

The guard blinked, seemingly caught off-guard by Maria's honesty. Then, all three of them burst out laughing.

"BAHAHAHAHA! So *that* was a kidnapping attempt? Imagine our shock when we heard the young lady scream upstairs, only to find her completely unharmed—while *you* were out cold on the floor!"

The female guard at the back was hunched over, clutching her stomach, unable to stop laughing.

"Shut up!" Maria's face flushed red.

"Wahahahah! You're a riot, kid," the lead guard wheezed. "Your blunt honesty is almost... endearing. Shame we still have to punish you for it, though."

Maria braced himself.

He was yanked up by his collar, the fabric digging into his throat as a fist connected hard with his left cheek. Pain exploded across his face, and he staggered back, the world tilting around him. Before he could regain his balance, a sharp kick landed in the small of his back, sending him sprawling to the ground, the air rushing from his lungs.

The rough pavement scraped against his skin as he tried to push himself up, only to be yanked back to his feet. A heavy punch struck his stomach, doubling him over, gasping for breath. His vision blurred, but he sensed the next blow coming—a swift kick to his side that sent him crashing into the wall, the impact rattling his bones.

He barely had time to react when a wicked left hook caught him on the jaw, snapping his head sideways. He fell to the ground again, disoriented and struggling to comprehend what was happening. The alley was filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing and the thud of his body against the unforgiving surface.

With one last shove, they tossed him out of the compound, where he landed in a heap.

"Owww," Maria groaned. His eye was swollen shut, his lips split, and blood trickled from his nose. How did I get into this mess? He knew the answer all too well. The Chamber, the relic, the gods, the boon—the hero inside him. His abdomen ached. Then it hit him. He'd been punched and kicked there. Repeatedly.

Oh no…

Guilt wells up in his heart. The little thing couldn't have survived all those blows. Maria has never killed before. Being responsible for a life lost was something he has never experienced.

A wave of guilt crashed over him, heavy and suffocating. There was no way that little thing inside him survived all that. The thought twisted in his gut. Maria had never killed before. He stole, sure, but killing? That was never part of the deal. And now, because of his screw-up, he had snuffed out a life.

"Should have expected this kid. What are your last words."

The words were spoken in a smug tone. The gang member stood before him, the moon illuminating his cruel expression. Maria had failed to obtain the objectives of both missions that was offered to him as a condition to spare his life. He lost the boon, now he's going to lose his life too. He couldn't run, not with his arms and legs bound.

"Uh... you don't suppose you have any other job offers that i can do to spare my life? Something that involves stealing please! Y-you might not believe this but i actually managed to steal the relic but then it got absorbed- Agh!"

The gang member stabbed his left thigh.

"No can do kid. The boss' benevolence can only go so far. And so does mine."

Pulling out the dagger from Maria's thigh, the man aims for Maria's throat. Maria closes his eyes.

"Foolish humans."

Maria snapped his eyes open. All he sees is a massive red form in front of him.

"And one more foolish than the other." The creature turned around to glare at Maria.

Enanon. By some stroke of luck, Enanon had come and it seems that he's going to save him. But wait, Maria had surely lost the hero. Then a thought that sent fear through his soul struck him.

Losing the boon of the gods is a grave, grave sin. Divine retribution will befall the one that has commited such a heavy transgression. The gods had said as such. Fate worse than death would befall Maria and Enanon must be here to carry out that punishment.

His spiraling thoughts are abruptly shattered by a sharp shriek cutting through the air, followed by a dull thud. His eyes dart to the source: the gang member lies lifeless on the ground. Maria scans the body for any signs of injury but finds none. The man isn't breathing. Then, without warning, the body begins to crumble into dust.

No flash of light. No sound. What the hell?

A spell had been cast, right? But there was none of the usual signs—no hum in the air, no glowing light, no ripple of energy. Nothing to suggest magic had been performed.

But something had to be responsible for what just happened. This couldn't be natural.

Or...

Or... is this divine magic? The kind of magic that scholars and mages have puzzled over for centuries without ever grasping its true nature? The kind that Maria had never bothered to concern himself with. The chances of him encountering it was basically zero after all.

Except now, that zero percent chance has been amped up to 100 percent and Maria thinks he's about to piss himself.

It's common knowledge that divine spells are a world apart from human magic. Though humanity has seen many great mages throughout the ages, none have ever managed to explain the workings of divine magic. Maria's never cared much for the details, but he had always taken comfort in the fact that spells are visible—something you can see coming. Human spells were like that and he had expected others to be too.

Now, standing before this inhuman power, one that can be cast without any warning, Maria realizes just how naive he's been. He had relied on his ability to run, to escape any magic that might harm him. But what do you do when there's nothing to see? Enanon stands over the disintegrating body, exuding power and grace, a being clearly of divine origin. A creature capable of ending lives with a mere thought. And Maria's next.

Panic sets in as he scrambles to his feet, the bindings on his arms and legs tripping him up, sending him crashing to the ground again. He curses himself for not making a run for it sooner.

______________

Enanon has been keeping a watchful eye on the human. As expected, the fool gets himself beaten senseless, but Enanon feels no inclination to intervene. Foolish decisions lead to painful consequences, and it is only fitting the human learn his lesson.

Besides, a near-death beating would not harm the boon in the slightest.

However, when it becomes clear that the human is about to be killed, Enanon reluctantly intervenes. After pulling the human from death's clutches, he expects gratitude. Instead, what he gets is a look of pure, unbridled fear.

"Where do you think you're going, human?" Enanon asks coldly.

Maria doesn't stop scrambling away. His body aches all over, but he drags himself forward, determined to escape. He doesn't want to die.

Enanon's footsteps grow closer, each one sending Maria's heart pounding in his chest. Panic surges through him like ice, worse than when the gang member had nearly ended his life. He knows he can't outrun this. His attempts to flee are pathetic, dragging him mere inches away from what he fears will be his demise. Desperation sets in, and he resorts to pleading.

"P-please! Spare me! I'll carry another boon! I didn't mean to lose it! I swear I won't lose it again! Just give me another chance!"

Enanon stops, an incredulous huff escaping him.

"You continue to astound me with your boundless idiocy. In a single day, you surpass your own record for foolishness. And yet, I had believed you at least retained a shred of sanity. What nonsense are you rambling about, human?"

"N-no! The boon, the hero! I was punched and kicked in the stomach—surely I miscarried it!"

"Miscarried? From mere physical blows?" Enanon's voice drips with disdain. "The boon has no such frailty. If you recall the gods' words, nothing can remove the boon from your body except your death, its host. Even if your body is broken and battered, as long as you draw breath, the boon will remain."

Maria falls silent. He knows the boon is not of human origin, not in any sense that makes sense to him. Still, hearing how inhuman it truly is sends a shiver down his spine. This thing will grow inside him, despite the blows, despite his pain. Yet, relief washes over him, if only slightly, both at the realization that he didn't get a life killed and that he won't be killed for failing to protect it.

Just to be sure, he asks, "So you're not going to kill me, right?"

"I will not," Enanon replies with cold indifference. "If anything, it is you who seems intent on rushing toward death."

Maria presses his lips together, feeling utterly foolish.

"Take today's lesson to heart, human," Enanon continues. "If you wish to avoid further harm, heed the warnings the gods have bestowed upon you. I am not here to save you from your own stupidity, only to prevent your death. I hold no attachment to you, no desire to shield you from injuries you bring upon yourself. Now, stand up. We are leaving."

With that, Enanon turns and begins walking. The merchant's manor lies just at the outskirts of town. There is a path through the nearby forest that will lead to the main road. Normally, it would be a simple mile's walk, but today is not a good day. And Maria is injured.

Maria knows well that Enanon harbors nothing but disdain for him. The insults and cold indifference have made that abundantly clear. He knows there will be no help. Enanon will not offer him a hand to walk.

So, gritting his teeth against the pain, Maria hisses and grunts as he limps after him. They haven't even reached the main road before Maria collapses. Enanon, with an exasperated sigh, is forced to carry the fool on his back.

Maria's warmth is noticeable against Enanon's back, the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. The human snores softly, oblivious to everything, sprawled across Enanon's shoulders.

As they reach the main road, Enanon shifts into his human form. He will need this form to seek directions without attracting unwanted attention. The gods had provided him with attire appropriate for this form, including a long robe. Tearing a small piece from it, he wraps it around the human's stab wound as a makeshift bandage. Then, he bundles the human in the robe, ensuring the idiot is hidden. He doesn't want to risk attracting any more attention from the gang the fool had involved himself with.

The human continues to sleep in his arms, his face relaxed in a deep, oblivious slumber. Despite his swollen features, there's something almost peaceful about him now. As foolish as he is, the human is not unpleasant to look at.

A waste that he's the biggest fool to walk this earth.