Darkness thickened inside the room. Despite the complete absence of any draft, the candle flame trembled incessantly, casting the priest’s bloated shadow across the walls and floor. A quiet whisper of prayer rose into the stale air.
“Thank you for permitting this sacred offering... The will entrusted to me by the Church shall not be wasted.”
The Church sometimes granted priests responsible for capturing and transporting sacrifices the right to claim a portion of the “goods” for themselves, in recognition of their service. It was an exceptionally valuable reward. Lower-ranking priests or paladins usually struggled immensely to prepare the tribute demanded by their god. But human sacrifice was the simplest way to replenish everything at once. A single ritual could sate a god’s hunger for a long time, while significantly reducing the price the supplicant had to pay.
“Preparation is perfect.”
The priest’s thick fingers lovingly caressed the ritual tools.
A dark-red ceremonial dagger. A sacred artifact engraved with the secret name of the god. A bowl to collect the victim’s blood. Ritual markings of the Cult of Abundance covered the walls and floor in ink, and at the center gleamed the symbol of “The Seventh, Jean Daet.” Among the many gods worshiped by the Cult of Abundance, he was the most revered.
— Well then, let us begin.
The priest rubbed his hands together and looked down at the victims crouched on the floor.
— M-mph! — Kh-h-h...
They were valuable specimens, painstakingly gathered from across the Border City. Not mere criminals or vagrants, but high-grade goods worthy of divine offering. Yet among them, there was one object that stirred the greatest anticipation. The priest picked up the dagger and bowl and walked toward the corner of the room.
— M-mph!
There, cloaked in a robe, a trembling figure crouched. Every attempt to struggle made the mana-blocking shackles on the ankles snap sharply.
The most expensive sacrifice, obtained with immense effort. The finest gift—one that would never have fallen into his hands without unbelievable luck and divine favor.
Shhk!
The priest tore off the robe. His eyes shone with reverence and greed.
— O-oh, it is the will of god.
Pale skin. Hair like pure silver cast in light. Golden eyes that contrasted sharply with it. A being poised between the divine and the heretical... mysterious and unsettling. The priest ran a hand once over the long, pointed ear and tightened his grip on the dagger.
“...”
At that moment, fleeting doubt crossed his mind. By rule, such an exceptional sacrifice should have been reported and handed over to higher authorities. But he had not done so.
“Can I not... receive a reward for my merits just once?”
Prayers, offerings, devotion—he had given everything. He had done far more than the priests who basked in luxury in the capital. In this cursed city crawling with heretics, he had labored harder than anyone. Surely the god would understand. After all, the blessing and power he would gain from this sacrifice would also be used in the god’s glory. In the glory of Jean Daet and his faithful servants.
Crack.
The hand gripping the dagger tensed. He could already feel it. The delight of great beings.
— You, insignificant yet beautiful creature, give thanks that you shall serve a sacred purpose and—
Knock-knock!
The sudden sound cut him off mid-sentence. A knock echoed through the room. The priest’s face twisted in fury as he turned.
— ...Those gang scum. I clearly said not to disturb me.
If it was something trivial, he might as well sacrifice that insolent fool too. With that thought, the priest approached the door. He did not forget to throw on a robe to conceal his priestly vestments. No one except the organization’s boss knew his true identity. The necessity of this tiresome disguise only sharpened his irritation.
— What is it? There is still time before departure.
From behind the heavy door came a frightened voice.
— S-sorry! We found another suitable object, and I... I forgot about it, so I brought it immediately!
— ...Forgot?
The priest’s left hand tightened further around the dagger. At the same time, his right hand yanked the door open. The massive door creaked slowly inward and—
— ...?
Whoosh!
A gleaming blade split the darkness.
***
— Kh-h... kha...
First, I pierced his lung. Cut off the breath to block both spells and screams. As expected, his groan stuck deep in his throat and died helplessly, like the sound of a cracked flute. I tightened my grip.
“...Finished.”
Impaled on the sword, the priest convulsed. Disbelief filled his eyes. I admit it—if he had not relaxed, this fight would not have ended so easily. The holy magic of the Cult of Abundance was notoriously difficult for melee fighters to handle.
But he had believed this closed room was his private sanctuary. He had lowered his guard. I, on the other hand, had calculated everything.
[Skill <Serpent’s Nest> Lv. 1 activated]
From the moment the door opened, I knew how he would react. Whether he would tilt his head back, attempt to parry with the dagger, or step backward. I read it all. He did not even have the chance to twitch a finger. A perfect hunt.
[Alphonse of Red Street smiles in satisfaction at the excellent use of skills]
I kicked the priest in the soft flesh of his chest and stepped into the hidden chamber. The blade slid free from his body, and life left him completely.
[“Black Intestine” trembles, releasing a furious scream]
I smirked.
“Your contractor’s dead. What are you going to do about it?”
When a direct contractor dies, the god suffers a penalty as well. By the time it can intervene in this world again, everything will already be over.
Bang!
I shut the door to prevent sound from leaking out.
[Level Up! / Lv. 39]
[Strength 33 → 34]
[Skill Mastery <Serpent’s Nest> increased]
After assigning the stat point to Strength, I looked around. The only light in the grim room came from the dim candle.
“The victims...”
There were seven in total. Bound humans thrashing desperately on the floor. The ritual symbols drawn beneath them stood out—countless tree roots stretching in all directions, and a massive greedy maw at the center.
“Jean Daet, the Seventh.”
[Three gods silently observe the symbols]
One of the Seven Evil Gods of the Luthien Theocracy. The supreme evil deity worshiped by the Cult of Abundance. ...A formidable enemy I would face in the future. I turned away from the markings and quickly began cutting ropes and removing gags.
— Pfu... I-I’m alive. Thank you.
— Th-thank you. I’ll never forget your kindness.
The victims had something in common. All young. All healthy. Among them was a girl who looked about Suhyeon’s age. Her tear-streaked young face stared up at me.
“Ha... bastards.”
That fury was something I could never feel while watching this world through a monitor. But now I stood in the heart of the enemy’s den. Grinding my teeth, I focused on freeing the rest.
The freed people, realizing the situation, quietly began helping one another. Fortunately, no one screamed. Only some glanced in disbelief between the dead priest and the symbols covering the room.
— W-why is a Luthien priest...
It was understandable. Officially, the Luthien Theocracy presented itself as a “holy state” embodying goodness. A place of salvation and protection under the banner of mercy. Surely some of these people had believed in the Church’s teachings. From today onward—they would not.
— I know you want to leave, but for now, this is the safest place.
I promised I would lead them out once I finished with the enemies. With that, I approached the final victim. The elf with mana shackles stared at me with wide golden eyes.
[Alphonse of Red Street cheers, declaring she is beautiful even with only her eyes ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ visible]
“...Strange.”
Was there ever an elf among the mage allies from this event? Of course, the partner encounter rate in <Forgotten God> was extremely low, and even I had not collected them all. But even in boastful forum posts, I didn’t recall an elf mage...
— M-mph!
I pushed aside the doubt and knelt to remove her gag.
Slap.
The damp cloth fell to the floor. The elf’s ears twitched slightly, and the first thing she said was:
— Dangerous.
Immediately after, <Serpent’s Nest> detected a rapidly approaching lifeform.
“At the door!”
Had they found the bodies of the thugs I eliminated? Or had I taken too long freeing the victims? As I turned, drawing my sword, those thoughts flashed through my mind.
“Damn it, I shouldn’t have been discovered this early!”
But the door was already bursting open.
Boom!
— Lord Priest!
A massive man filled the doorway. His bulging eyes locked onto the corpse, then swept the room.
— What the hell is this...
No need to check.
“Regan, the smuggler boss!”
A named mob from Act 1, Chapter 2. Tattoos covering his entire body. Muscles hard as armor. But most striking was the magical prosthetic replacing his right arm. Spotting me, his face twisted, and he raised the prosthetic.
Crack, crack...!
A powerful surge of mana burst from a fissure in the arm. The terrified victims screamed and scrambled behind me.
“Damn it, he’s using magic bullets.”
My mind, accelerated by “Overdose,” sped up against my will. Evasion trajectory. Dash angle. Strike point. Enemy reaction speed. In an instant, a perfect plan formed—dodge, close the distance, cut his throat. However—
[King of Ninety-Nine Defeats orders you to brace for impact!]
My body did not move. If I dodged, all the victims would die. Not only a moral issue—the exam would be failed. But if I took the magic projectile head-on or attempted to deflect it...
“...I won’t die, but injury is guaranteed.”
With the strongest opponent—the Paladin—still ahead, getting injured now meant failure. I clenched my teeth.
“Damn it. Do I have to abandon the no-death clear?”
But then—
Fssssss—
From the prosthetic, which had been about to unleash destruction, came the sound of escaping air. The fissure sealed instantly.
— W-what the hell?! Why isn’t it working?!
Crk-krk-krk!
The boss shook his arm in panic as the glow faded rapidly. ...At that exact moment, blood trickled from the corner of the elf’s mouth.
“......”
She was still wearing mana shackles. And yet... she had done something. Her pupils blurred briefly, then refocused. A chill ran down my spine.
Wait... could it be?
— Gunther!
A familiar voice struck my ears. As I turned forward—
BA-BAM!
I don’t know when he appeared or where he retrieved his weapon, but Ryan brought his two-handed hammer down on the boss’s head with full force.
***
[Party Member “Ryan Parker” joins the battle!]
[A small positive bonus is applied to your combat power!]
— Who the hell are you?!
Screech!
Prosthetic and hammer collided in a violent clash. I snapped back to myself and rushed forward.
Crack!
The boss was strong. But there is no answer to a coordinated attack. The moment Ryan, straining every muscle, pressed down, the enemy’s ribs were exposed.
Slash!
Twist of the blade. Pull back. The massive body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Ryan spat on the corpse.
— Filthy bastard. How many people did he sell to afford a magi-engineered prosthetic?
Then he began fiddling with it, removing the arm. I let out a breath and slapped his shoulder.
— That was timely—
— Damn right it was! Here, catch!
— What’s this?
— Rent payment for the gear. I cleaned out their treasury on the way here.
Ryan tossed me something. First, a pouch heavy with gemstones and gold coins. Second—
— Ah... — the elf beside me exhaled softly.
I quickly found the correct key among the ring—mana shackles.
Click.
The metal ring sprang open and fell from her ankles.
— Ngh.
Deep red marks remained on her pale, grayish skin. The elf carefully moved her leg, took a shallow breath, and stood. Her gaze never left me.
— You... who are you? Rescuing people in a place like this...
Unfortunately, there was no time for introductions.
Thud-thud-thud!
Rapid footsteps approached. I immediately dashed outside.
— There they are! Grab them!
The corridor filled with enraged gang members. But they weren’t alone.
Boom, boom, boom!
Five massive guardian golems advanced, shaking the floor. Even Ryan, trying to calm the panicking victims, cursed.
— ...How much money do these bastards have?
This was why storming their warehouse was madness. The Paladin hadn’t appeared yet—but it was only a matter of time.
“......”
It didn’t matter. The outcome of this battle had been decided some time ago. ...Without any involvement from my carefully constructed plan.
Step.
I looked at the elf beside me. She wore no armor. She had no staff—the symbol of a mage. She hadn’t even picked up the dagger on the floor.
And yet. There was no fear in her golden eyes—only a cold, calculating light. I was certain of who she was... or rather, her class.
“...Well, look at that. My lucky day.”
Appearance probability—0.01%. A hidden class that had caused waves of outrage among players due to its absurd rarity. In a city of magi-technology, a partner more dangerous than any weapon.
— Dimona.
— ......
— My name is Dimona Ryen.
The moment her brief introduction ended—
Wooooom—
An invisible wave rippled through the air. Instantly, the advancing golems froze.
— W-what’s happening?!
The charging bandits faltered in confusion.
— Why did they stop?
— Something’s wrong—
They never got their answer.
BOOM!!
One of the golems spun and swung its massive fist. A bandit caught in the strike exploded into a spray of blood and slammed into the wall.
— K-aaah!
Only then did they realize.
— Shit, it’s a hack! Arcane Runner!
Before the shout finished, the remaining golems synchronized and turned on their former masters. Steel fists moved without mercy. The bandits panicked, desperately trying to hold them back.
“Done.”
In the midst of chaos, I pulled a detonator from my belt. It was connected to the pre-placed “sticky bombs.”
— This is the end.
Just once.
Click. BRA-TA-TA-TA-THOOM!
A powerful explosion tore through the corridor. Flame and shockwave swallowed the passage instantly; screams and smoke fused into chaos. Bandits were hurled in every direction. Even the steel bodies of the golems staggered and collapsed under the blast.
Ding!
[Level Up! / Lv. 40]
[Level Up! / Lv. 41]
[Mass Extermination achieved! Gods presiding over Explosion, Destruction, and Slaughter vaguely perceive your existence]
[Agility 32 → 33]
[Endurance 29 → 30]
[Endurance has reached 30]
[Biological efficiency optimized. Your body recovers faster under extreme strain, and fatigue is reduced]
Not finished. Relying on the increased endurance, I poured the remaining enhancement potions down my throat. An immense vitality surged deep within.
“Well then.”
Step.
Heavy, measured footsteps echoed through the thick smoke.
I raised my gaze.
“Take this down, and it’s over.”
...Time to finish Act 1, Chapter 2.
.
.
.
“Hm?”
But why? The approaching footsteps were not alone.
