“How much should I tell... and where should I stop?”
After a brief moment of thought, Gunther opened his mouth.
— I met Kalos... your comrade, about three years ago.
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.
.
The story begins in the distant past.
Right after the transmigration. Gunther opened his eyes in some backwater village located on the far western edge of the Union of Kingdoms. The moment he realized he had been transferred, he immediately began trying to make sense of the situation.
— So... I’m an orphan? Damn it, here too?
— Kid, did you hit your head? You don’t remember anything at all?
The good-natured village chief spent a solid hour explaining everything about “Gunther.” Though, in truth, there wasn’t much information worth noting.
Except perhaps the fact that his pregnant mother had appeared in this hole—one that wasn’t even on the maps—about twenty years ago?
— Unfortunately, she suffered from severe madness. All day long, she would just spout nonsense.
The madness grew worse with each passing year, until eventually, when Gunther turned ten, she suddenly disappeared from the village. The chief added that they had searched the surrounding forests and neighboring villages, but found no trace of her. A truly ironic past.
“...Here too, without a mother...”
Fortunately, the kind villagers had taken care of the orphaned boy together, allowing Gunther to grow into a proper adult.
— ...I just hope that madness doesn’t show up in you as well.
But unfortunately, later on, Gunther was forced to act in ways that, in the eyes of the villagers, looked exactly like “madness.” His sudden declaration that he would become a mercenary. To the villagers, who had treated him like their own son, the news struck like a bolt from the blue.
— No, Gunther! Y-you shouldn’t! Just go work as a host!!
— If you want to earn money, become some noble lady’s gigolo!!! They were just looking for one at the neighboring estate!
He even had to listen to such absurd persuasion, but there was no other choice. He needed to reach the other end of the continent to meet the protagonist, and the only way to do that was to become a mercenary. Wandering alone along roads where danger lurked at every step was, in essence, suicide. As a mercenary, however, he could take on jobs in different places and move toward his goal with relative safety.
Fortunately, there were valuables left behind in Gunther’s house—almost as if they had been prepared for just such a moment. They were things left by his mother, and the kind villagers had not touched them. Thanks to that, Gunther sold them, obtained equipment, and spent the following months honing his skills at a fencing school in the nearest city.
To be honest, at that point he believed he would be able to safely reach Act 1, Chapter 1. The instructors constantly praised his talent, and in any case, he was someone who had lived his entire life surviving and adapting. In practice, he did indeed adapt to the life of a mercenary with surprising speed for a beginner.
But don’t they say on Earth? The one who’s been driving for a year and gained confidence is more dangerous than a complete novice who just got their license.
Gunther at that time was exactly like that. Mobilized into a war between nobles, he ended up on the brink of death because of a single tiny mistake. Trying to save a comrade who had fallen behind, he ended up falling behind together with him. Worse still, the very comrade he tried to save was the first to turn into a corpse and collapse right beside him.
— ...Damn it.
To make matters worse, the blood from the deep, torn wound in his thigh showed no sign of stopping. A dense forest, far from allies. Enemy soldiers everywhere. And no tools or means to administer first aid.
The Drug-Addicted Saint revealed herself for the first time at that very moment of despair.
[The Drug-Addicted Saint stares at your wound with empty eyes]
It was a system window message that appeared after a truly long time. Gunther thought she would mock him like the other gods and disappear. However, contrary to expectations, she calmly explained everything—from first aid techniques to the types of herbs that could be used for anesthesia and pain relief. There was no need to explain how deeply that first “divine grace” resonated within him.
“...Thank you. Even if this body cannot make offerings, I will repay this debt somehow.”
At that moment, the connection was cut off. As he stood there in confusion, a new message appeared.
[Alphonse of Red Street has appeared]
“...Alphonse?”
Messages began to pour in at the stunned Gunther, shaken by that shocking nickname.
[He conveys that the Saint is bitterly crying after receiving a penalty for exceeding the limit of interference in the manifested world]
[Therefore, in her stead, he declares that he will help you break through the encirclement]
After he managed to survive safely, the King of Ninety-Nine Defeats # Nоvеlight # also joined.
[The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats praises your attitude toward the sword and your perseverance]
[However, he hints that you lack a bit of finesse and offers advice]
Thus, Gunther and the three gods endured all hardships together until Act 1, Chapter 1, forming a bond akin to friendship. Along the way, he finally learned how to control “Karma,” accepted the true power of the three gods into his body, and was able to roughly understand their circumstances.
Their requests and his own needs. The plan to restore the “Ancient Gods” became a natural conclusion.
Gunther honestly told this entire story to the Ruler of the Oceans. Of course, excluding the fact that he was a transmigrator and a regressor.
— ......
Her face had frozen midway through the story. As if she had seen family members brought back to life. As if she had encountered an impossible miracle.
Then her lips slowly parted.
Slowly, distinctly. As if she were praying that the words leaving her lips would not be in vain. That Gunther would not deny them. With all that pleading in her voice, she spoke carefully.
— Y-you mean... you’re saying... that not only Kalos, but Dietrich, and El... are with you too?
— Yes.
Gunther gave a short nod.
— Though they are bound by a strange restriction and cannot directly communicate with the manifested world, the fact that all three exist and have not disappeared is undeniable.
Then he paused.
[The three gods look at the Ruler of the Oceans with warm eyes]
— They say they’re watching you even now.
...Gunther could not have imagined how those words resonated within the Ruler of the Oceans.
— Ah...
Tears began to gather in her usually stern and quiet blue eyes. At first, they fell silently in drops, sliding down her long lashes, but soon they turned into an uncontrollable stream. The goddess’s legs gave out, and she quietly sank to the ground. Then she broke down, sobbing like a child.
— Yes... They didn’t disappear. They weren’t erased, they didn’t meet such an end. I... I was right.
The sight did not look ridiculous. It was relief—the return of something precious believed to be lost. And it was something Gunther had always longed for as well. He stood silently. Until the emotions that had surged like a wave finally subsided.
[Alphonse of Red Street snickers, saying he finally understands why the sea is salty]
[The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats sheds tears]
[The Drug-Addicted Saint also sheds tears]
[...Alphonse of Red Street tries his best to cry]
Only when the sobbing ceased did Gunther speak.
— Now it’s my turn.
The Ruler of the Oceans, sniffling, nodded.
— A-ask anything. And... take the staff as well. I give it to you.
Well, he had planned to do that anyway. He needed to use it for a deal with the Society of Forgotten Books. Gunther nodded and asked the question that interested him the most.
— What exactly happened to those three? Because of the restriction, they don’t seem able to answer even when I ask.
The Ruler of the Oceans replied without hesitation.
— I don’t know either.
— ......?
— On that day, they left me alone.
...That day? Before Gunther could ask anything further, she continued, her gaze directed somewhere far into the past. Yet somehow, in those dimmed eyes, instead of longing, there was boundless sorrow and hatred.
— Humanity stood on the brink of extinction. Truly, destruction was already at the doorstep. There was only a final line of defense, and beyond it stretched lands endlessly consumed by evil gods. — The world lay in ruins. Everything had faded, and a monstrous hell flourished. Many human heroes ascended, gaining divinity, and fought against them, but those were merely convulsions. All of them were trampled and cast into the bellies of the evil gods.
Her tone was calm, but within that voice lay a horrifying memory beyond words. ...The true history of a forgotten era. Gunther unconsciously held his breath, drawn into the tale.
— And then, one day. On the night before the final line of defense was meant to fall. They left. No one knew why or where they went. Leaving me, wounded, alone... they simply disappeared.
That was why, unlike the three of them, the Ruler of the Oceans had managed to preserve at least part of her power and divine status.
— And then... when the sun began to rise the next morning. On the morning they did not return. The evil gods began to lose their strength. Though they could not be completely destroyed, humanity gradually reclaimed what had been lost.
Blood seeped from her bitten lips as her voice trembled.
— But at the same time, those three... were erased from the world.
— ...Erased?
At Gunther’s question, she nodded with trembling eyes.
— Their glorious legends, their great deeds, even their final sacrifice... everything.
Her voice broke.
— All of it vanished from people’s memories. Only distorted stories and pitiful fragments remained. Even our comrades could barely remember them. Only I... only I managed to hold onto their memory.
Ninety-Nine Defeats. The Saint. Alphonse.
Three radiant beings whose names had been reduced to something smeared with mockery and malice.
— Listen.
The Ruler of the Oceans’ deep blue eyes fixed on Gunther.
— Child of Miracles, El. Blood Oath, Kalos. Executioner of the Apocalypse, Dietrich.
...Gunther looked at her.
— They are the forgotten gods... who saved this world and humanity.
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The time granted by Karma soon came to an end. The Ruler of the Oceans promised full support in the future and, leaving behind a final message for the three gods—that she had not forgotten them for even a single moment—departed. Gunther sat in the quiet room, consumed by countless thoughts, staring at the blinking message.
[Personal scenario updated! Old is good]
[Hidden condition fulfilled]
✔ You have uncovered the true names of the Forgotten Gods <Forgotten God>.
[The efficiency of the power derived from them increases]
[Forgotten legacy begins to seep back into the world]
