In Soul Academy, the Archipelago was considered a type of side content.
Each of the fourteen islands hosted a dungeon, and although these dungeons weren’t tied to the main story, they boasted impressive quality. Players who finished the main dungeons often sought out the Archipelago’s dungeons to keep the adventure going.
These dungeons were so well-regarded that some players wished the developers had saved them as DLC and expanded on their scale. I used to joke about that too, saying if the main story was this good, any DLC would have to be even better. But it wasn’t long before I realized just how naive that was.
Who would’ve thought there’d be no DLC released for years?
How could I have known that Soul Academy’s developers had burned out in their final effort? I’d assumed that the success would lead to more investment, not a total abandonment.
Back then, people speculated about the studio’s silence—rumors flew around about the CEO running off with the profits, staff quitting en masse due to overwork, even a fire at the company. But looking back, now that I’m living in this world, it all feels eerily meaningful.
This was no ordinary game, which means the creators behind it couldn’t have been ordinary people either.
They might even exist somewhere in this world. If I ever meet the developers, I’ll demand answers.
Why didn’t they release any DLC? Why did I have to come up with my own content while waiting for updates that never came?
“Lady Allen, might I have a moment?”
Snapping out of my imaginary plans to lock a developer in a room and make them create new content fueled solely by steamed buns, I looked up to see Isabel Artea approaching through the ocean breeze.
As the name implies, the Archipelago isn’t reachable by land. The soil itself seems to have some strange magic resistance, making teleportation difficult.
Only a high mage like the Duke of Partland could manage it. Otherwise, one must reach the Archipelago by boat.
There were many routes available, but I opted for the Artea family’s ship.
Why, you ask? Because it was the only one willing to take us.
After all, who in their right mind would willingly take on the notorious Lady Allen, the daughter of the Duke of Partland, the kingdom’s third prince, and the daughter of the Count of Kent all at once? One mistake, and not only their head but their entire family line would be at risk.
Only someone like Isabel, whom I could persuade with promises of a blessing, would take the job.
“I wished to request a blessing from you before departure, Lady Allen, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
‘A blessing on this ship...’
“You want a blessing on this old, creaky ship that looks ready to sink any minute? It seems pointless, but sure, why not.”
Maybe because I’d gotten used to praying to the “low-tier god,” I no longer felt any reluctance.
Standing at the bow, I clasped my hands together and closed my eyes as the crew watched with eager anticipation. Divine power began to radiate naturally from within me.
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‘O great god...’
“Oh, blessed voyeuristic trash god.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd at my first words, but I just chuckled, brushing it off.
Explaining would only lead to more misunderstandings, thanks to my Mesugaki Skill. Besides, once the prayer ended, they’d know the blessing had worked, so why bother?
‘May peace follow us on this journey ahead.’
“Don’t let the cowardly passengers wet themselves on this flashy but useless ship, and keep this worn-out vessel safe from the pathetic crew’s incompetence.”
...Hmm. Maybe I should have prayed in the captain’s quarters instead. As the murmuring around me grew louder, I paused and took a deep breath, hoping that by the end of the prayer, the atmosphere might have shifted.
Lucy Allen’s proposal to visit the Archipelago came the day after she returned to the family.
There was no need for additional preparations; aside from the gear we’d brought, Lucy had arranged everything in advance.
For the first time in two weeks, they had slept more than three hours, rising early to accompany Lucy to the Artea estate.
Arthur had assumed that Lucy must’ve simply secured a decent ship from the coastal estate of the Artea family, renowned for its skilled sailors.
So when Isabel Artea herself came out to personally welcome Lucy, Arthur was genuinely shocked.
Her demeanor was one of reverence, not mere acquaintance. It was far from an ordinary friendship.
What could’ve happened for the head of the Artea family to show such deference to Lucy Allen?
Turning to Joy, who he figured might know something about noble politics, Arthur hoped she could shed some light.
“Huh? Uh? Wh-what?”
Seeing Joy so utterly bewildered, Arthur shook his head. If even Joy didn’t know, then something must’ve happened recently.
Not that it mattered. If Isabel Artea herself was lending her ship, their journey to the Archipelago would be much smoother.
Once they arrived, they’d be tackling two medium-sized dungeons per day alongside Lucy, so any extra rest during the voyage would be a blessing.
As Arthur boarded the Artea family’s ship, he noticed Frey eagerly exploring the vessel, marveling at everything, and smiled at his excitement before glancing sideways.
There, he saw Joy, looking like she was on the verge of death.
“Seasick?”
“...Yes. Very badly.”
“Too bad. Once we reach the Archipelago, there won’t be a single moment’s rest.”
“Is Lady Allen really planning to clear all the dungeons in a week?”
“Joy, if anyone knows, it’s you. Lucy Allen doesn’t make impossible plans.”
“Right...”
She’d probably decided on two per day as a concession for us. Lucy Allen’s sense of “reasonable” was drastically different from anyone else’s.
Though Arthur thought this, he kept quiet, fearing Joy might actually start crying if she realized she’d simply escaped one hell for another.
Arthur was about to suggest Joy sleep in her cabin before the seasickness got worse, but he stopped when he felt a warm sensation radiating from the deck and turned to look.
This energy... it felt similar to the blessing from a saintess.
But no, it was different—warmer, gentler. Arthur stood in a trance, and the others soon followed him onto the deck.
The scene that awaited them was a crowd of crew members, forgetting their duties, standing entranced, gazing at the bow.
Rather than scold the crew, the officers joined them, captivated.
At the bow, on her knees, tears streaming down her face, was Isabel Artea.
And there, calmly continuing her prayer, receiving everyone’s gaze, was Lucy Allen.
“...Hah.”
Arthur looked up at her and let out a hollow laugh. It wasn’t that he was speechless; he just had too many thoughts to express in one phrase.
The gentle divinity radiated outwards, her firm yet humble stance, the awe on the face of the Apostle of the Order of Art, her small lips moving in constant motion, her voice as soft as a spring breeze.
“...Please allow these miserable fools on board to keep their pathetic lives.”
Her words, however, didn’t quite match the reverent scene.
Breaking free from his wonder, Arthur smirked as he looked up at Lucy Allen. Without that damn tone, she might actually succeed the saintess as the church’s symbol.
As he pondered, Lucy Allen fell silent.
The warmth of her divine power seeped into every part of the ship, imbuing it with her blessing.
For a blasphemous prayer to have such a profound effect... The Supreme God must be merciful enough to tolerate even a brat like her.
Or maybe He actually preferred it. Laughing to himself at the thought, Arthur suddenly recalled all the countless oddities he’d sensed around Lucy Allen, and froze.
What if. Just what if... that irreverent tone wasn’t entirely within her control?
What if the Supreme God knew of this and granted her power despite the disrespect?
The idea was absurd, but Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about it.
If her speech was somehow beyond her will, it would explain so much: her irreverent tone regardless of who she addressed, her mischievous actions despite her dignified walk, and many of her strange behaviors could all be explained by this “compulsion.”
Still lost in thought, Arthur stared at Lucy as she received the gratitude of Isabel Artea and the crew around her.
“Excuse me.”
Startled by the voice behind him, Arthur quickly turned around, realizing he hadn’t sensed any approach at all.
After all those grueling weeks of training with the Allen knights, his senses had sharpened, yet he hadn’t noticed a thing.
“My apologies, Your Highness the Third Prince.”
The voice belonged to a rough-looking man with a burly frame that screamed “sailor.” However, his voice was unexpectedly low and courteous.
While Arthur grappled with the strange contrast, the man continued respectfully.
“What you noticed just now—please keep it to yourself. The lady has yet to gain a true confidant who understands her.”
“...What?”
“It won’t be long. Just until this journey is over.”
“What kind of nonsense...”
Arthur began to reply, but his words fell on deaf ears; the sailor’s body slumped as if he had fainted.
When he came to later, Arthur interrogated him, but the sailor genuinely seemed to know nothing—not even that Lucy Allen had blessed the ship.
As the blessed ship sailed toward the Archipelago, Arthur chewed his lip in the rocking cabin.
It seemed the days on the islands wouldn’t be smooth sailing after all.