Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Chapter 1-2. To Live in This World.
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# Serenia Citadel, East Gate.
Judah entered the east gate with a weary expression. Far in the distance, clouds draped over the mountain ridges were beautifully dyed in the hues of sunset. It was a stunning sight, but unfortunately, he couldn't fully take it in right now. His level-up had eased some of his physical fatigue and restored his depleted mana, but the mental exhaustion lingered.
Letting out a sigh from the psychological strain, Tia, who was beside him, chuckled and patted his shoulder.
"Good work out there."
"Hah. Yeah, tell me about it."
He didn't deny her praise. He couldn't even remember how many packs he'd taken down. After forty or so, he'd stopped counting. He could check the magic stone tally via hologram, but even that felt like too much effort.
On the way back from hunting, he'd worried that arriving at the gates covered head to toe in blood-soaked clothes might get him turned away. But Tia had simply sprayed something on him like a mist, and the problem was solved.
The blood caked stiffly on his clothes, face, and hair—which hadn't budged with water—turned gelatinous and plopped off in globs. Apparently made by Ahman's alchemists; it was a marvel of a product. The blood was gone, but his body still felt sticky from sweating buckets like it was raining.
Thanks to Tia's consideration, Judah got to wash up first when they returned straight home. Rinsing off the sweat in cold water brought a refreshing wave of relief. Clean and satisfied, he dried himself with a thick towel.
[The effect of the statue of the Second Holy King - Yophiel has expired.]
'Already a week gone by?'
It was time to head to the temple again. He wasn't sure if it was a glitch or just a blessing, but simply gazing at Yophiel's statue in the temple's chapel granted a useful buff.
It lasted a week, accelerating his growth rate and aiding fatigue recovery. Since he could renew it anytime by revisiting, Judah made a habit of stopping by every seven days without fail.
As a side effect, he was being treated like a devotee. Religion here wasn't forcibly imposed like in the modern world. Believe if you want, don't if you don't. But in this perilous era overrun by monsters, most visited temples to pray for safety under the Holy Kings and their apostles.
Judah, however, knew all too well that the so-called Holy Kings of this world couldn't save him, no matter how devoutly he believed. So he placed no real faith in them.
To put it bluntly, he was cosplaying as a believer. He considered changing clothes and heading straight to the temple, but realized it was peak hours—worship time, with crowds gathered. Deciding to catch his breath first, he lay on the bed. It wasn't plush, but the familiar sensation lulled him. He closed his eyes for just a moment.
Exhaustion must have hit hard; consciousness faded in an instant. He jolted awake shortly after, staring out the window. The sunset sky had given way to pitch-black night. Checking the hologram clock in his field of view, less than an hour had passed, yet darkness blanketed everything.
He'd nearly slept the whole day away from a brief rest. Scratching his head and taking a deep breath, Judah changed clothes and descended slowly from the second floor.
"Heading out?"
Tia, fresh from the bath with steam rising from her body, tilted her head curiously. Her eyes sparkled with mild intrigue about where he was off to at this hour.
"Just a quick trip to the temple."
Her curiosity vanished at the mention.
"Oh—already a week? Such a devout follower~ Go on, then. What about food? You must be starving."
"I'll grab something on the way back. Be quick."
She nodded, looking bored.
"Fine. If the bakery's open, pick up some extras. The ones stuffed with cream or chocolate."
"Don't you like sandwiches?"
"Those go without saying. The rest are bonuses."
Tia tossed him five silver coins from her wallet on the sofa. He caught the irregularly tumbling coins mid-air with both hands outstretched. Nice catch, she murmured softly. Judah smiled as he heard it.
Closing the door and walking a short way brought him to the main avenue. The night streets buzzed with people, mostly adventurers and mercenaries returning late from scouting the western forest. Streetlamps, voluntarily installed by the Magic Tower for such folk, lit the roads brightly, and shops stayed open, doing brisk business.
Serenia Citadel held a special place for adventurers. The Serenia Forest spanned roughly 50% of the vast Byron Empire territory. Long ago, a mighty magitech empire ruled these lands, only to perish for reasons unknown.
Some said it fell as a battleground between the heavenly and demonic realms.
Others claimed a failed magitech experiment doomed it.
Both were wrong.
Judah knew the truth. When creating the game and setting this region, he'd made the magitech empire's destroyer none other than the Fourth Monarch, <Perlnen>. He'd descended to the mortal plane to test his power—passing through it was necessary to reach the heavens.
The empire, faithful to the Second Holy King - Yophiel, resisted desperately. But it crumbled under the twenty-four armaments he wielded. To punish the ignorant fools who dared attack him, Perlnen scattered thousands of small gates linking to the demon realm. Helpless masses died to the monsters pouring forth.
Even after Serenia Citadel was built and two generations of lords, adventurers, and mercenaries felled countless beasts, their numbers never dwindled—thanks to those gates Perlnen left open.
The steady monster spawns prevented reclaiming the vast lands, but conversely, they provided adventurers and mercenaries with magic stones for livelihood. A lucky find of ancient magitech relics could yield a fortune.
Yet over 150 years later, mercenaries and adventurers still flocked here for one reason: fragments said to be dropped by Perlnen. The catch? No one had found any in a century. That elusive prize kept drawing hopefuls.
'But you'll never find them.'
Judah muttered, glancing at an adventurer passing by, reeking of blood like cheap perfume. They couldn't. Of the twenty-four fragments, the one that fell here was the [Twenty-Fourth Fragment, Carpediem]. And it was already—no, probably with him.
The pouch Sian had given him upon his arrival in this world.
He couldn't open it yet, but judging by the feel through the fabric and Sian's words, the gift inside was likely <Carpediem>.
Like the fifth fragment, Carpediem was a ring worn on the finger.
Each of the twenty-four wielded unique powers; this ring granted <Enchantment> and <Subjugation>.
He hadn't tested how the game-set abilities would manifest, but one thing was certain: soulbound, it couldn't be stolen and was his alone.
On his coming-of-age birthday, Judah would claim the fragment. The clueless masses wandered like ghosts, chasing pipe dreams of discovery and mastery.
"Ah."
Lost in thought, he'd arrived at the temple. As always, the steps were absurdly numerous—not built halfway up a mountain, yet over a hundred to climb before entry. Were it not for Yophiel's statue, he'd never bother.
"Hoo."
Not truly winded, he exhaled lightly. As he opened the door to enter, an elderly couple emerging from inside paused in mild surprise. Judah held the door and stepped aside to let them pass.
"Thank you."
Likely lingerers from worship, they bowed graciously with kind faces and shuffled out, supporting each other down the steps. He watched their retreating backs briefly before stepping in.
Under bright magic lanterns, priests cleaned diligently. Spotting him, they smiled, nodded politely, and resumed their tasks.
'Is Seron not here?'
He'd hoped to greet her while here, but she was absent. Not close enough for a special visit, Judah headed to the chapel. He didn't know the vast temple well, but the path there was familiar. Oddly, though, an intuition nagged that he shouldn't go.
'?'
========== Author's Note ==========
A three-in-a-row update ground from the author's blood, flesh, and chicken.
Did you enjoy it enough? You should have. Say you did.
If you say it's lacking, I won't be able to do more streaks.
Sitting at the computer all day hurts my back.
Would've been perfect for the 77 Festival. Ended up skipping this year too.
P.S. Unless you coupon-bomb me with 2000, don't nag the author to streak more with "Work! Hot Mountain!" Please give warm comments like "Good job, Hot Mountain."
Goodnight~