Chapter 3 ….
What is that?
White hair hanging over like a monster, white clothes stained with blood.
A sword for execution at its waist, a candle in its hand to light the way.
With narrow eyes glinting, smiling wickedly…
That thing that imitates a human.
“Brother.”
The monster grinned and spoke fluently in human language.
Its voice wasn’t unpleasant—if anything, it sent chills down the spine and made one want to hear more. Like the voice of a siren that lures humans…
The sun was setting now.
People who lived not in the capital but near the mountains ate dinner and slept around sunset.
No one went outside the village late at night. One never knew what monster might appear. Even if not monsters, the world itself had become too dangerous.
Yet at this hour, a man approached barefoot, clothes soaked in blood, and spoke.
What on earth was he?
He had merely run into bandits, lost his escort, and was rushing to deliver goods alone—so why had something like this happened?
And this strange sense of unease…
As though countless eyes in the sky—
Many, many eyes—
Not human—
Something else—
Were watching him intently.
So intensely that he began to question:
Am I really breathing here?
Am I actually alive?
Am I doing something right now?
Who am I?
What is the existence called “me”?
Does my ego truly exist?
Is this world even real— No, no, no, no, NO—
Worship the Divine! Praise and glorify Him!
“Here.”
A soft, gentle voice—neither male nor female—cut off his thoughts.
The sensation of those eyes vanished.
…
What was I just thinking?
“Do you know which region this is? As you can see, I’ve been… preoccupied, so I don’t know where I currently am.”
Ah—he was supposed to answer that.
“Ah, y-yes?”
Why was he spacing out in front of such a thing?
“Y-yes… This is…”
Judging by the blood soaking his clothes… clearly he had already done something terrible.
What were the guards doing? A man like this should already be thrown in prison!
His sharpened, terrified eyes spotted the sword crest at the man’s waist.
That crest… only Knights of the Lionheart Division carried that sword.
This man killed them.
Even the Lionheart Knights—known as the elite among elite knights—had fallen.
His heart pounded. His head went blank.
Sweat soaked his back, and his hands trembled on the reins.
He clasped his hands to stop the shaking. If he showed fear in front of this thing…
“… ”
He forced himself to respond as politely as he would to a high noble.
“H-here is a small village called Nebria… A humble place a bit far from the capital, with Whisperwood behind us…”
The thing tilted its head slightly, then smiled—an eerie doll-like smile. Eyes like burnt ashes curved pleasantly.
“Ahh… I see. Then, kind brother—could you take me to Astrapolis? I can pay you a small fare.”
If he refused, would he be killed? With that sword at his waist?
Would that blood-soaked outfit be painted even darker?
He had no choice but to nod.
Maybe because the strange sensation disappeared, he managed a small businesslike thought.
Since the thing was talking of a transaction, at least he shouldn’t lose money.
That was the instinct of a merchant who had clawed his way to success in this kingdom.
“B-but Astrapolis is far… and with monsters everywhere, the two of us alone may not survive.”
He swallowed hard.
Although the early autumn night air was cold, cold sweat streamed down his back.
“Oh my… then should we hire mercenaries?”
White, threadlike hair swayed as it tilted its head. The expression was genuinely disappointed—almost human.
That only made it more horrifying.
“I can’t take you all the way, but I can drop you near Astrapolis. If that’s acceptable…”
He just wanted to get rid of this thing as soon as possible.
Too many people would recognize the blood on that uniform as belonging to the knights.
But abandoning him somewhere suspicious might get him cursed and killed.
“Thank you kindly, brother. May the blessings of the gods be upon you…”
The monster clasped its hands in prayer.
Was this thing a heretic? Who prayed to the Sun God like that?
But heretic or not—who cared?
He was just grateful his head was still attached.
“It’s little, but you may ride in the cargo area. There’s food as well, so please, eat something on the way…”
“Thank you truly.”
And so, the monster climbed in.
Wow~ Medieval fantasy folks are so polite~!
They weren’t this nice in the game. But in reality? Surprisingly kind!
The cargo area wasn’t bad, and he even gave me food.
The only strange part was how much he shook whenever he looked at me.
He also looked horrified when he first saw me…
Maybe even though I washed the blood off in the stream, the clothes are still red.
Whether the coachman trembled or not, all that mattered was getting to Astrapolis.
In Astrapolis, there was a sacred relic—shaped like a necklace.
In the game, you obtained it after beating a boss in Chapter 2. Since we’re around Chapter 1.5 right now, the relic should still be there.
Even with my current combat stat of zero, the boss guarding it could be defeated—since it required intelligence and luck, not strength.
I wasn’t hungry, but I rummaged through the cargo.
Tools, trinkets, merchandise—yup, definitely a traveling merchant.
Oh, clothes!
Maybe I could buy some?
If I walked around in blood-soaked robes barefoot, someone might report me.
There were shirts, pants, even shoes.
I lifted the cloth near the driver seat.
I tapped him on the shoulder.
“Brother.”
“H-heuuk!”
He flinched violently. Almost jumped out of his seat.
I felt a tiny bit guilty.
“…Y-yes, sir.”
Even talking to him felt bad now.
I smiled kindly.
“Could I buy some clothes from the cargo?”
“Y-y-yes… Boots are 8 florins, shirt and pants together are 12 florins.”
“Can I buy a bag too?”
“Y-yes… that, that you can just take.”
Nice. Free loot.
“Thank you, brother.”
His shaky voice and suspicious expression stung a bit. But he said free, so I shamelessly took it.
I paid him enough for food, travel fare, and even a tip.
And I still had money left. Not bad—turns out my “corpse-looted funds” were generous.
I changed into normal clothes and wore shoes.
Maybe the reason he trembled was because I looked like a lunatic with white messy hair, barefoot, and covered in blood.
“…Yeah, I’d be scared too.”
I stuffed the bloody clothes into the bag. Maybe they could be washed later.
Also, these clothes looked special—probably ceremonial.
Once I get more information, I’ll figure it out.
But the real problem was—
[system: If you have 0 believers in 3 hours, your body will begin to collapse.]
[00:59]
Only one hour left.
The only person nearby was the trembling coachman.
And he seemed terrified of me.
I wasn’t even sure if the system would count something like:
“If you don’t want me to hurt you, then believe in my god,”
and he reluctantly says, “Yes! I believe! Amen!”
Would that count?
Also, I didn’t even know what god I was supposed to preach.
The cult-leader character disappeared after Chapter 1.5, so I only remembered the main story, not the details of the god.
If I could play the game again, maybe I’d recall. But that’s impossible.
Still, I had to get believers. Body collapse? No thank you.
I’m the world’s biggest coward—too scared of pain to even commit suicide. There’s no way I’ll endure bodily destruction and torture.
What kind of god did this cult-leader worship?
I wasn’t a novelist—making up a new god on the spot wouldn’t be easy.
So…
I sat closer to the coachman, where he could hear my voice.
“Brother, do you believe in God?”
The answer came immediately.
“Of course I do.”
“Then why are you so afraid of—”
