Mysterious Visitor
Eden sensed something off about the mysterious visitor. A demon. It was a monster he'd encountered frequently in the game. By lore, they were rare in the world, but they inevitably showed up often to challenge empowered players. So Eden was quite familiar with the name "demon." But when the game became reality, things changed.
Demons, dragons, giants, vampires, hydras, nymphs, and more. This world teemed with malevolent beings that threatened intelligent life. Even though gods actually existed here.
So Eden turned to Neb with a question.
"In a world where gods exist just fine, why the hell do demons stick around?"
He knew this (scatterbrained, quirky, clumsy, sloppy) goddess had been sealed away for ages. But that didn't explain everything. After all, her brother—the far more famous Sun God—was still around. Even if "gods" in this world weren't omnipotent, they should be able to wipe out something like demons without breaking a sweat.
Just then, an old real-world drama popped into Eden's mind.
—Cancer cells are still life forms, after all.
Eden nodded absently. Indeed. Our great and glorious gods even tolerate demons and monsters.
Recalling the famous philosophy on the "problem of evil," Eden awaited Neb's answer.
"Hmm... The answer to your question is simple. It's precisely because we wish for this world not to fall into ruin."
Eden frowned. Another cryptic Zen koan that made no sense. Neb, anticipating his reaction, quickly elaborated before he could flick her forehead.
"We are vast beings. To eradicate every demon in this world, this goddess would have to act personally—and from her perspective, that would be an utterly trivial matter."
"In simple terms."
"Er... In one word, demons are to this goddess little more than annoying bacteria."
Neb brushed it off lightly with a wave of her hand.
"She could wash them all away with a simple act like handwashing, but then the beneficial bacteria on her palms would vanish too. That's the idea."
Neb explained using Eden's memories for clarity. Even if she was currently an excess goddess crammed into a human body.
Eden summed it up bluntly. "So, to a goddess, every living thing on earth is basically just bacteria."
It was a joke. He expected Neb to jump up in outrage and deny it, as usual.
"You could say it's somewhat similar."
"...".
Eden was speechless.
"Ah, of course, she doesn't truly see them as bacteria! The bacteria from your memories are tiny, insignificant specks. For one, they think and act independently—that's the difference."
Eden let out a low groan. The more she explained, the crazier she sounded. Ignoring her answer entirely, he started walking toward the village.
Eden arrived back at the village. But no villagers were in sight. Nor were the ancestors' corpses that had risen from the graves and wandered in. He guessed they'd gone to move the bodies.
Eden followed the wooden cart tracks on the ground. Soon, they reached what looked like the village's communal graveyard.
"Back already."
Heim—the villager who'd been digging furiously and guided Eden to the empty house—spotted the returning barbarian and stuck his shovel in the dirt.
"The corpses?"
"Couldn't just leave 'em. Burying them again."
True to his word, Heim was covered head to toe in dirt. As Eden took a step closer, Heim backed away in a panic.
"...Don't come too close for now. There's still miasma lingering nearby."
Miasma? Well, at least they know about corpse sickness. Eden didn't bother correcting Heim's folk-science notions.
Heim nodded approvingly at the distant Eden. "So, the issue you went to handle—it's all sorted? Sounded like some mage's doing. What about the mage?"
"Dealt with."
"Good riddance."
Eden skipped the details. No point mentioning how the mage had been researching and experimenting on the village outskirts, contracting a demon for someone's resurrection. Too tedious.
Heim bowed his head to Eden. "Anyway, truly grateful. We nearly lost the village."
Eden shook his head. "No—because I was here, the village was almost doomed. The mage heard I entered the village and prepped an ambush."
"...You have a grudge with the mage?"
Everyone knew the infamous barbarian-wizard feud, so Heim's response came naturally.
"Nah. He wanted my heart."
"...Huh."
Heim looked stumped for a reply. It was too bizarre for an ordinary villager.
Eden kindly elaborated. "Barbarian hearts make prime research material. That's what he was after."
"That... must've been rough."
Everything about being dropped into the medieval era was rough, but Eden just nodded silently.
"And then there's Gor... er."
Eden paused, fishing for the name buried in his memory. Neb sidled up and poked his side, whispering.
"...Gordon, isn't it?"
"Right, Gordon."
The barbarian who'd lived in the village. Heim started at the forgotten name and waited.
"Looks like he fell to the mage too."
"...He wasn't the type to vanish quietly."
Heim rubbed his dry face with one hand. Silence stretched.
Then Heim looked up and thanked Eden again. "Truly grateful. And that guy would appreciate a fellow barbarian avenging him."
Did he? Kinda, yeah. Eden recalled Gordon's fading ghost and accepted the thanks.
"If you're alright, I'd love to throw a modest feast... but right now..."
"Appreciate the thought."
The massive moon hung high—it was late. Plenty of villagers were still burying corpses anyway.
Thus, Eden and Neb returned to their empty house. The hearth fire crackled, still spitting embers.
"This goddess is tired..."
Eden smirked at Neb muttering despite doing little. Well, she did use magic.
Recalling that, he asked, "When could you start using magic?"
"Hmm...? Didn't you see?"
As Eden looked puzzled, Neb sprawled comfortably on the reed-straw floor and chatted.
"It was this goddess's first time too. Of course, she already knew magic existed."
God perks, huh. Eden half-understood why the mage had wept blood in despair. A bit envious too—if he'd rolled a mage instead of a barbarian, medieval life would've been easier.
"If anything, it's frustrating that no one uses something so simple naturally."
...She's pissing me off again.
Missing Eden's irritation, Neb boasted on. "It's so basic it's hard to teach. Like... explaining to someone how you simply move your physical arm."
"Biceps and triceps contract and relax to flex the muscle. Nerves relay the command, joints and bones support the motion."
"...".
Neb went quiet fast.
"...Time for sleep."
She flopped onto the reeds. But time passed, and Eden made no move to bed down. Neb tapped the floor.
"What are you doing? Lie down already. This goddess would love her own spot, but sadly, the villagers' fluffy bedding is just this one patch. No choice—lie beside this goddess."
She'd be fine on bare floor. Eden didn't get her point, but he was waiting for something.
"Expecting company."
Moments later, faint footsteps outside. An old cart wheel creaked to a halt. Then, with a creeeak, the door swung open.
Framed in moonlight stood another villager. Barely an adult, faint stubble shadowed his face.
"...?"
He stared puzzled at the "wall" before him. Opened the door—why's there still a wall?
Quickly looking up, he met the terrifying glare of the barbarian looming over him. Eden spotted the sharp blade in the man's hand.
Not a friendly visit.
"Shii—die!!"
Swallowing panic, the man swung. Eden casually grabbed his wrist.
Crack. Bone-snapping pain crumpled the man's face like paper.
"Gaaah!! L-Let go!"
Eden had anticipated this. How else would the mage learn a barbarian hit the village? Someone here must've talked.
He eyed the wooden cart outside. A single unburied corpse in the bed.
Mage researching resurrection. Dead body. Enraged villager.
Eden pieced together the quest storyline. Not an actual quest, but close enough.
Then, drawn by the youth's screams, a dirt-caked villager rushed over.
"Klein!! What the hell's going on?"
"Best ask him yourself."
Eden released the wrist. Clang—the blade hit the floor.
Heim grasped the situation. This barbarian wasn't tormenting some poor kid.
"You bastard! What do you think you're doing to the man who saved the village?!"
"Shii, saved my ass...! Just a bit more, and that mage would've brought my mother back. Who the hell is this guy to...!!"
"...What?"
Heim sighed softly at Klein's wail. A tale as old as time—not everyone faces death calmly.
Eden pondered as he listened. How to break it to him.
The mage was a fraud? Sure, he researched, but he'd been duped by a demon—reviving your mom was damn near impossible?
No matter what he said, the youth's rage wouldn't fade. Clear as day.
As Eden mulled, Neb yawned and strolled out from the house.
"...What a hassle. Fine, let's talk it out—should resolve things."
Ignoring the frozen tension, Neb approached the cart alone and inspected the corpse.
"Hmm... A bit aged, but this'll do."
What followed was identical to the cave: a translucent apparition of the deceased rose.
Klein gazed tearfully into empty air. Heim watched the miracle unfold.
"Hmm."
Eden had half-expected to slap some sense into them. Easier than thought.
He watched a moment, then slipped quietly inside.
Whether this youth—denying his mother's death, clinging to a mage—would grow from it was anyone's guess. Neb's magic wasn't true resurrection.
Still, unknowable. He might step forward. Or backward.
Eden didn't care. He was just an outsider here anyway.
An outsider stuffed into an ignorant barbarian's body.
"...".
Even so.
Drifting off peacefully without that nagging unease felt satisfying.
Early morning. Someone visited Eden's house.
"Good day."
"...?"
Eden scowled at the neat holy knight standing at the door. Who the hell now.