Chapter 6 …
“‘Random Skill Tree Unlock?’”
A gacha…
A gacha in real life!
[Random Skill Tree Unlock Ticket ×1]
A golden coin sparkled and spun in the center of my vision.
I wished it was a selectable unlock ticket or an item… but still, I didn’t have even a single skill or item at the moment, so I had no choice.
I ducked into an alley and stared at the Random Skill Tree Unlock Ticket. Better to use it now than hoard it and regret it later.
“Use.”
I thought it loudly in my mind, and a roulette appeared before my eyes.
The roulette had an antique design, spinning with 100-point skills and question mark skills.
Tick, tick—the sound echoed as the roulette gradually slowed.
“Please…! Something good! Not a 3-point Weakness Detection or something! Since it’s gacha, give me a 100-point skill…!”
I prayed silently. If anyone had been around, I would have dropped to my knees.
Soon, a triumphant fanfare sounded in my head, just like when a status window appears. A simple icon and text appeared.
[Divine Aura Lv. 1: You can now emit the ‘Aura of God.’ (Cannot be turned off)]
…I can emit the Aura of God?
Is that it?
And I can’t even turn it off?
What kind of nonsense is this… and it’s only level 1.
[Points required for LV. 2: 20 points]
And to reach level 2, I’d have to pay 20 points again?
Is it lucky that there’s no percentage-based enhancement?
I swallowed my frustration.
Yeah, whining won’t change anything. Getting upset here won’t make a difference…
“Still… this is too much! What use is this aura…”
I swallowed a lump in my throat but froze at a thought crossing my mind, then straightened up.
“Wait a minute.”
This might actually be useful.
I looked at [Weakness Detection: 3] in the skill tree.
I covered my mouth with my hand to stop myself from laughing.
“Better this way. If I’d gotten some weird attack skill, it could’ve been a problem. What I actually need to do is…”
[Main Quest! Spread faith in God to people all over the world.]
I need to create followers.
[Number of Followers: 1]
[System: If the number of followers remains ‘1’ after 04:59, physical degeneration will begin progressively.]
[Sub Quest (2): Gather 20 followers.]
The translation felt awkward, but still—a good idea came to me.
“Purchase Weakness Detection.”
[New Skill: Weakness Detection!]
[Current Skills]
Weakness Detection Lv.1
Divine Aura (passive) Lv.1
[Points: 0]
Now it was time for <Cult Leader | Cernuan Lumiere> to shine.
I wandered the city to spread my faith.
Even spreading faith starts with small steps—scouting first.
Many eyes fell on me. Probably because…
[Divine Aura (passive) Lv.1]
That must be it.
Even though I wore the robe over my head, the effect was noticeable. Level 1, but it was quite effective.
I had kept the gold coins, jewels, and ornaments I had obtained from ancient ruins instead of selling them in town.
This was not the capital; in a remote village like this, there’s nowhere to trade such things.
Later, I planned to go to a guild or a jeweler in the capital. Assuming the game’s rules applied here.
“Not much to see here.”
Probably because it wasn’t the capital.
I felt disappointed seeing the market—just like in the fantasy game, it wasn’t particularly fancy.
“Better check the blacksmith then.”
Luckily, there was a blacksmith in the village. I decided to stop by on my way home, just to sharpen my sword.
The blacksmith wasn’t human, as you might expect in a fantasy world.
“Seeing him in person… it’s kind of amazing.”
Since this isn’t a game, is thinking that way considered racial discrimination?
My medieval-fantasy mindset said it might be fine since human rights don’t exist here, yet my modern thinking insisted discrimination is wrong.
I pondered this while looking at the dwarf before me…
Clink.
A roughly made brass bell announced a customer.
Esdar, the dwarf of the northern highlands, turned to see who it was and went toward the door.
No. He had tried to.
Standing at the doorway, the figure in the robe minimized their body, but the presence emanating from under the robe couldn’t be blocked.
They were taller than anyone else, hands unnaturally pale, glowing like a corpse.
Glory! Praise! Glory! Praise!
“Hello, sister.”
Esdar’s hand froze, and he dropped his hammer.
Clang!
The sound snapped him back to reality. Simply the presence of that figure made his grip slacken, causing his precious hammer—his symbol of pride—to crash to the floor.
His heart pounded. Cold sweat ran down his back.
Was he even breathing?
Breathe… hold your breath. Make no sound.
Any sound, and those pale, corpse-like hands would strike—one step, one gesture, and he’d be dead, his eyes gouged, his insides torn out…
“Uh…”
A soft voice reached Esdar’s ears.
“Oh… poor thing… you’re scared. Feeling fear, are you? Don’t be so tense. Weren’t we all born under multiple gods? Isn’t that so?”
Esdar slowly nodded.
Sweat dripped from his chin onto the stone floor, leaving dark gray stains.
He had no choice. That thing in front of him seemed ready to kill him.
No, it would kill him.
He feared that fragile-looking hand and wrist. Surely, in a strength contest, Esdar with fifty years of blacksmithing experience would win… but it didn’t matter.
“Yes. May I ask your name, sister?”
The lower face barely visible under the robe moved. Smooth skin and lips revealed a soft, androgynous voice.
Judging by the height, they were likely an adult elf, but my instincts said otherwise.
I quickly opened my mouth.
“I- I’m Esdar. Esdar from the Northern Highlands.”
My voice cracked from nerves.
Hoping they didn’t mind, I prayed silently.
“Esdar… Esdar, such a nice resonance. Now, Esdar, don’t be nervous. I mean you no harm. I only have… a small favor to ask.”
I had merely come to ask a favor.
The unknown figure spoke softly, their sharp claws visible,
“Just… sharpen this sword. It’s simple, isn’t it?”
Simple.
Even if they demanded I forge a legendary sword on the spot, I would have done it.
If not, I would have stolen it to do it.
“Yes. Please wait a moment, and I will sharpen it for you.”
“I appreciate your kindness, sister. Here is a token of my gratitude.”
They handed over a sword wrapped in cloth and gold coins for the sharpening.
Gold coins! Enough to make a new sword and still have some left.
I unwrapped the sword with faint expectations.
“…?”
Before the blacksmith’s eyes lay an ordinary, worn supply sword of a knight’s order.
Teeth missing, dull blade—couldn’t even slice a carrot.
Clearly, it wasn’t meant to be used in battle.
“Is this really the sword?”
“Yes. Though it looks humble, it holds special meaning to me.”
Esdar nodded.
Even an unimpressive sword can hold meaning to its owner. Fifty years of blacksmithing taught me that.
“Even as a token of gratitude… these coins are too much for just a sharpening. May I perform additional work on the sword?”
“Then I am grateful.”
“If we begin today, it will be finished in a week. Please return then.”
They asked with joy.
“Oh, could you tell me where those suffering without treatment reside?”
“There… a rookie doctor in the back slums. I’m not sure if he can ease the patients’ suffering, but he gathers the sick and tries to cure incurable diseases.”
“I see. Please keep my visit here a secret.”
“Of course. I swear on my life. The dwarves of the Northern Highlands keep their promises with honor.”
“Thank you. May light always shine upon you, sister.”
They bowed deeply with both hands and departed.
Clink.
The door creaked and slowly stopped moving. Esdar’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor.
I thought one coin wouldn’t be enough, but I even got additional work done for a single gold coin.
“Wow~ medieval folks in fantasy worlds are so kind.”
Just the cost of enhancing an item to +12 is insane. One gold coin for that? Prices are cheap.
Though the city was strict against heresy and cults, and I was trembling as the top cult leader, individuals here could be so kind.
He seemed weak, trembling while speaking to me, but in this town, he was the most skilled blacksmith—so it was fine.
Life wasn’t bad, even as a newbie in this medieval world for less than three days.
“I’ve entrusted the sword and seen most of the town…”
Now it was time to do the real work.
I headed to the slums the blacksmith mentioned. No directions were needed. The town was small—only one slum.
“A rookie doctor operating in the slums at this hour.”
If I was right, this was a named NPC.
Someone I could say I knew better than the original Lumiere.
“Kardil. Also called the Healer of Ruin.”
I knew him because he gave healing relics.
Kardil, a priest from the Central Church, wandered from village to village, helping people, later called the Wandering Healer.
During that time, he discovered healing relics and delivered them to the church.
But seeing the church’s tyranny, he gained the title “of Ruin” and opposed them—this was the game story.
If the player chose correctly, they could obtain a healing relic.
However, before Kardil acquired it, the relic’s existence was unknown.
Since the game developers never released that info, the only way was to find Kardil.
“The blacksmith said he’s a rookie doctor. Then this must be before he got the Wandering Healer title.”
I had found Kardil in the early-game story as a Central Church priest.
“This… if I play it right, I could get the healing relic too.”
Things just got easier.
I wandered through the slums excitedly and opened the tent that looked like a makeshift hospital.
“The ceiling is so low, I have to stoop. How poor the conditions are.”
I sat on a wooden chair at the door. It creaked as if it would break.
“Busy… If I disturb him, he’ll get mad. Better stay put.”
Kardil was known for having a bad temperament.
Though he did good, people complained about his personality.
I didn’t want to lose early goodwill. He already hated humans in general.
I watched the man move quickly among the beds.
Pale skin, hair like a cloudy sky, dirty priest robe, dark circles under sharp eyes. Clearly exhausted.
He worked tirelessly, tending to patients.
I sat with legs crossed, observing. My robe and hood were pulled low, careful not to hurt anyone with my aura.
I hoped seeing me being considerate would encourage him to give me the healing relic.
“He works so hard. Even as a game character, I respect that. He probably doesn’t earn anything. The only time I’ve worked hard… was in games. Huh, thinking back, I really led a trash life!”
Kardil slowly exhaled, finally resting.
He turned his head, eyes meeting mine. I slowly removed my hood.
It’s polite to remove your hat when greeting someone. Even in a fantasy world.
Seeing Kardil paler than before, I waved.
Smile. Smile.
A friendly smile is crucial for a cult leader.
“Hello.”
“…”
Was he startled by my sudden appearance?
Kardil’s face twisted. His trembling voice said,
“This is not a place for someone like you.”
Forget what I said—medieval folks in fantasy worlds are not always kind.
