Martin's Fables, Part 1
Late at night, when the rest of the world was fast asleep, Yohan sat huddled over his desk. Relying on the flickering glow of a single oil lamp, he diligently scratched away at a notebook with his pen.
Earlier, he had proposed writing a religious book disguised as a secular, educational one as a means to spread the doctrines of the Nameless Goddess Church across the continent. At first glance, it would seem like a simple collection of moral fables, but the core teachings of the Goddess would be subtly woven into the subtext.
His plan was to take classic fairy tales and folklore from his original world, tweak the details of the plots and characters, and compile them into a promotional Fable Book for the Goddess.
As far as Yohan knew, concepts like theology—let alone literature—were severely underdeveloped in this world compared to Earth. Granted, printing and papermaking technologies were so primitive that books were a luxury reserved for a tiny fraction of the nobility, but the stagnation of theology was still hard for Yohan to wrap his head around.
In a world where countless gods actually existed and actively interfered in the mortal realm, agnosticism was fundamentally impossible. Perhaps that was precisely why the study of divinity had stalled. That was Yohan's best guess, anyway. Because the existence of gods was an undeniable, everyday reality, people simply lacked the drive to investigate the unknown.
Rustle.
As he scribbled away, fighting off the heavy drowsiness weighing on his eyelids, he suddenly sensed a presence behind him.
"Yaaawn..."
Yohan let out a long yawn and turned his head. There stood Falco, holding a steaming wooden mug in each hand.
"If you stay up too late, you're going to have a hard time waking up tomorrow morning."
"Mind your own business. You're not asleep either, are you?" Yohan retorted.
Falco merely smirked without a word and offered him one of the wooden mugs.
"It's wine brewed in the village, boiled with a bit of sugar. Billy made it. It doesn't really get you drunk."
"Oh, ho. Vin chaud."
"Huh?"
"Ah, just talking to myself. Anyway, thanks."
His throat had been feeling a bit dry, so this was perfect timing. Yohan immediately took a sip of the deep purple liquid. As the hot, subtly sweet brew slid down his throat, a pleasant warmth spread through his sluggish body, chasing away the fatigue.
"Ahhh... This is great."
"Yeah. Drinking it before bed warms you up. It's really nice."
To think that a village whose staple food used to be boiled potatoes, and whose only alcohol was cheap, sour swill, was now brewing its own wine and boiling it to make cozy drinks.
"So... is that the storybook containing the Goddess's teachings?" Falco asked, her eyes drifting to the notebook on the desk.
Yohan kept the mug to his lips and gave a single nod.
"I picked up quite a few interesting stories back in my old days. I'm just picking out the ones that can be blended with the teachings of our blockhead... I mean, the Goddess. That's the gist of it."
Currently, the Goddess Knights had three primary objectives.
First, to continuously develop their village—which might one day become a second Holy City—on all fronts.
Second, to write books containing the Goddess's teachings and distribute them among the nobility across the continent.
Third, to reach out to clergymen who, like Annie, had grown disillusioned with the Central Church, reveal the true legitimacy of the Goddess, and convince them to convert.
Of these, the first and third were long-term goals that would require a great deal of time. The third, in particular, was incredibly difficult, starting with the sheer challenge of finding suitable candidates to convert. Therefore, the only goal they could tackle immediately was the second one.
Of course, there were other minor tasks to keep them busy. Specifically, hunting down notorious wanted criminals across Westania and beating them to a pulp. Because the Knights had been tearing through the region, the bandits and highwaymen around Balifield had been practically wiped out.
According to what Wilhelm had mentioned recently, even the Lord of Balifield's castle had stopped issuing wanted posters as frequently. Compared to the past, when they put out bounties and posters on a daily basis, it was a monumental shift.
For this reason, the Knights expanded their operations from the Balifield area to the entirety of Westania. Long-distance travel wasn't an issue at all when they could leverage the Goddess's power. Distances that would take days on horseback could be crossed in the blink of an eye using her divine authority.
To the wanted criminals on the receiving end of these raids, it was an absolute nightmare. A band of phantom-like vigilantes would materialize out of thin air, beat them senseless, and plunder all their ill-gotten gains. Sometimes, while raiding these hideouts, they would stumble upon Sacred Relics, which provided a modest but welcome boost to the Goddess's divine power.
"You should finish that and head to bed early too."
"Yeah. Don't worry about me."
"Who's worrying?"
After their brief exchange, silence settled over the room. Yohan stopped scribbling and simply sipped his drink to wet his throat. After a moment, his eyes drifted back toward Falco.
The flickering shadows of the oil lamp danced across her figure, and white steam billowed gently from the wooden mug in her hands. The sweet, warm aroma of boiled wine tickled his nose. This cozy, relaxed atmosphere... wasn't bad at all. Perhaps because they had finally completed the holy scriptures, his heart felt lighter than it had in a long time.
Of course, this peace was only temporary; the road ahead could hardly be called smooth. He had spun grand words about a Silent Crusade, but at the end of the day, Yohan's task was to coax active clergymen of the Holy Kingdom into heresy. When considering whether priests of the Central Church—an institution notorious for showing zero mercy to heretics—would willingly convert, the answer was painfully obvious.
True, Annie had abandoned her post as an inquisitor to convert to the Goddess's faith. But finding another clergyman who harbored as much resentment toward the current Church's corruption as she did would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Still, they had managed to make it this far, hadn't they? For now, at least, he could enjoy this sweet drink...
Before he knew it, Falco was staring back at him. Yohan completely forgot that he was supposed to be writing his fables. For some reason, Falco's face looked unusually flushed. It couldn't be from the boiled wine since it wasn't alcoholic, so it had to be the warm glow of the oil lamp playing tricks on his eyes.
"Uh..." Just as Yohan was about to say something to break the silence—
Flash!
"I cannot endure this any longer! Give me a sip as well!"
The Unnamed Goddess materialized out of thin air, snatched the wooden mug right out of Yohan's hand, and began chugging the contents.
"Phew! Yes, this is it! Truly, a most addictive flavor!"
"You piece of..." Yohan opened his mouth to snap at her sudden ambush, but ultimately let out a defeated chuckle.
Writing fables after finishing the scriptures wasn't actually all that boring. In fact, engaging in such a refined, intellectual pursuit in a fantasy world dominated by fanaticism and violence gave him a quiet sense of pride. Even so, sitting cooped up in a room scribbling all day was bound to rot a man's brain. Thus, Yohan decided to step outside the village for the first time in a while, taking Billy along.
Falco had taken a strong liking to the wine Yohan had brought back from the Royal Capital to pair with beef, and lately, she had been busy researching ways to improve the quality of the village's own wine. Meanwhile, Annie was occupied training the village youth, leaving Yohan and Billy to head out on their own.
Their destination was a bandit hideout located quite a distance from Balifield. Rumor had it that this particular gang was notorious in the region, having graduated from simple highway robbery to cold-blooded murder.
"Hehehe. Come, make haste! Let us smash the skulls of these cursed villains who prey upon the weak!"
"You got it," Yohan replied, nodding vigorously at the voice echoing in his head.
"What did the Goddess say?" Billy asked.
"She said to go wipe them all out."
"Ahaha..."
"Alright, let's get to it."
Flash!
Yohan reached out into the empty air. Instantly, the Light Sword materialized in his grip. Ah, this warm, weightless sensation. It really had been too long. Yohan swung the Light Sword through the air a few times, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
"Let's clean house."
"At your command, Boss."
"Tsk."
At some point, Billy had started trading casual banter with Yohan. It was a testament to how much closer they had grown. Well, a good relationship was always a plus. With that thought, Yohan stepped past the entrance of the cave where the bandits were holed up.
He focused his hearing as they ventured a few paces deeper into the cavern.
"Sniff... Wait, this is..."
A faint metallic tang of blood hung in the damp cave air. Billy seemed to have noticed it too, his brow furrowing deeply. The two pressed forward in silence, and before long, Yohan caught the faint murmur of voices echoing from the depths of the cave.
"I sense the life force of those bandits just ahead. There are roughly six... no, seven of them."
"Perfect. I was worried we'd have to wait around if they were out on a raid."
"So we're going straight in?"
"You bet."
The two dashed deeper into the cavern. A crude door made of lashed wooden planks blocked their path, but Yohan simply kicked it off its hinges, shattering it in a single blow.
"W-What the?"
"What's all that racket outside?"
The bandits using the cave as their base quickly came into view. Three were huddled around a battered table playing cards, one was snoring loudly on a blanket spread across the floor, and the rest were sharpening their blades or tending to other chores—seven in total. At a glance, it was a typical bandit hideout. However, the faint scent of blood from earlier had grown overwhelmingly pungent. It meant they had taken a life very recently.
"You wicked bandits! I will never forgive you!" Billy roared in genuine fury.
"Bwahaha! Consider yourselves dead meat!" Yohan bellowed, refusing to be outdone.
At their shouts, every single bandit in the cave snapped their heads toward the intruders.
"Well, look at that. Some prey actually walked right into our—"
CRACK!
The bandit who had been sharpening his sword let out a mocking laugh, but before he could finish his sentence, Billy's fist smashed squarely into his face.
"Damn it, Kenny's dead!"
"You bastards!"
Having lost a comrade in the blink of an eye, the bandits snatched up their weapons and lunged at the duo. Even after witnessing their friend's face get pulverized, they only hesitated for a fraction of a second before their bloodlust took over.
"Taste the judgment of justice!"
"Squeal!"
But against Yohan, who wielded the superhuman strength of an Apostle, and Billy, who possessed the raw, crushing power of troll blood, their resistance was utterly futile. The fight quickly devolved into a one-sided beatdown.
"Phew. That was refreshing. Incredibly refreshing."
Confirming that the last bandit had collapsed, Yohan wiped the sweat from his brow with a satisfied smile.
Flash!
Immediately after, a brilliant light burst forth in the empty air, and the Goddess descended to the mortal plane.
"What is it? Is there another one of your Sacred Relics here?" Yohan asked.
The Goddess shook her head.
"It is not a Sacred Relic. However, I sense a faint, lingering trace of malice."
"Hmm..."
The Goddess stepped over the bandits' sprawled corpses and glided deeper into the cavern. Watching her in silence, Yohan and Billy immediately followed in her wake.
"I knew it."
"Ugh..."
At the very end of the cavern lay the source of the sickening stench of blood.