In that village, there was a legend of The Great Turtle.
In the past, during times of drought, they had experienced the success of offering a sacrifice to The Great Turtle and receiving rain in return.
The Village Advisor, a living witness to that success, made the heart-wrenching decision along with the Village Head and the others to offer up a young girl to The Great Turtle. She was a child they had raised with such care that she was practically the daughter of the entire village. They gave her up with heavy hearts, only because there was no other way. Even though she was a child they had cherished so much.
But the villagers themselves were so parched they couldn't even shed tears, so they had no choice.
The girl, too, had supposedly accepted her fate, saying, "If it's for the sake of the village."
Together, they carried the girl with great care and meticulously arranged her upon the Altar before the Shrine on the mountain.
Leaving behind the girl who showed her resolve by not moving a single finger, the adults turned their backs so she wouldn't see their tears and left the place behind.
My, she was truly magnificent.
That girl is the pride of the village.
A Priestess wed to the god known as The Great Turtle.
Surely, she will fulfill her duty. Now everything will be alright. Let us be grateful to her.
Thus, the village offered its sacrifice. However, the next day, the rain had yet to fall.
The sky remained clear, and the loathsome sun continued to shine down.
"Will it really fall...? Could it be that we just turned that child into monster bait...?"
"Shh! Quiet! If the old man hears you, you'll be the next one up there."
"……Sorry."
But. However. Perhaps. Maybe—it hadn't worked after all?
Just as anxiety began to grip the village once more, right at that moment...
Clouds appeared. Sudden, dark clouds.
The sun hid its face, and then—
"It's rain!"
Plip, plop. Drip, drop. ...Patter-patter, splash-splash! Rain! The long-awaited, craved-for rain!
It soaked into the cracked earth.
The pale brown fields turned black as they drank their fill.
The withered grass regained its moisture and stood tall once again.
A blessing from the heavens—no, a miracle from The Great Turtle!
"We did it! It's rain!"
"Whoooooooo! We're saved! We’re going to live!"
"Long live The Great Turtle! Long live The Great Turtle!"
Forgetting their exhaustion, they looked up at the cloud-covered sky and opened their mouths wide to swallow the rain directly.
They were being healed by the water.
All of this was thanks to the decision to offer a sacrifice to The Great Turtle. In other words, this was the rain we had made fall.
Every living creature should be grateful to us for having the resolve to offer that sacrifice.
The rain continued to fall for three days and three nights, until the village was thoroughly saturated.
"It could probably stop about now."
"True. The wells are full again."
"If it keeps raining like this, the crops might start to rot at the roots."
Just as they began to think that way, at the perfect moment, the rain stopped.
The Great Turtle must have taken a liking to the sacrifice. Or rather, he was clearly pleased. That was the most important thing. That was why the rain had stopped at such a convenient time.
Ah. Once things settle down, let us build a shrine to deify that sacrificial girl. So that we never forget this.
As proof that what we did was not wrong.
So that our descendants can remember that this is what they must do if the rain does not fall.
For the sake of the future, the records should be as accurate as possible.
It seems a young girl is the best choice for a sacrifice. Would a man not do? No, a woman is better. Surely, The Great Turtle is a Male God.
A virgin would likely be preferable. ...No one had laid a hand on her, right? Oh, of course not. Obviously. My wife would kill me. Besides, no one had that kind of energy anyway.
It must be better if they have Magic Power. Didn't the rain fall in proportion to the amount of Magic Power? In that case, too much might be a problem. A young girl is probably just right. My elder sister was around that age, too. If the Village Advisor says so, there's no doubt about it.
Man, The Great Turtle sure is a lady-killer, isn't he? I get it, I get it!
But wasn't she a bit too much of a brat? Nah, that's just his taste.
They felt a misplaced sense of familiarity toward The Great Turtle.
If that sacrificial girl saw this, what would she say? Surely, she would say she was glad the village was saved.
Because that child volunteered to be a sacrifice for the sake of the village—
...Somewhere along the line, that was how the story went. A toast to our courageous Priestess!
And then.
A few days later, a massive turtle appeared before the village.
It was a turtle that walked sluggishly on all fours, its back as high as an adult's chest.
It poked its head out from that large shell and slowly swayed its neck while looking toward them.
None of them had ever seen such a large turtle before. This turtle must surely be The Great Turtle himself.
The villagers offered their deepest thanks to The Great Turtle.
They cut the grass nearby and piled it up to make it easy for him to eat.
The Great Turtle elegantly extended his head and took it into his mouth.
Munch, munch. The Great Turtle ate the grass.
Oh, he ate it! He seems to like grass.
What a divine appearance. Dignified. Powerful. Wonderful.
Now then, we look forward to your continued favor. Please, keep it just like this!
When the villagers entertained The Great Turtle in this way, The Great Turtle let out a cry like a low bellow: "Bumooooo! (I found you.)"
Ah, surely that was his way of thanking us. The villagers bowed. They pressed their hands together in prayer.
The Great Turtle walked off sluggishly, just as he had arrived, and returned to the mountain.
He must have been satisfied. Good, we must record this as well—
—And then, the village ceased to exist in any subsequent records.
Most likely, The Great Turtle took a liking to the sacrifice and the hospitality, and as a reward, they must have all been invited to the Land of the Gods—where there is no hunger or suffering—to live happily ever after.
And they lived happily ever after.