A Woman Who Mistakenly Believes Herself to Be a Goddess
Eden's dream that night was strange, for a man who delusionally thought of himself as a goddess. There were no grotesque corpses straight out of a splatter flick clawing at his collar, no meals slathered in chemical seasonings vanishing before his eyes like some Tantalus punishment. Instead, he simply encountered a beautiful woman in his dream.
Her skin was soft as white jade, utterly transparent and smooth. It even seemed to hold moonlight within, glowing faintly in the dark room. Her sensual silhouette evoked the splendor and beauty of a work of art. Her two full, ripe fruits swayed with such gravity that sighs of admiration escaped unbidden. Even including his original world, the phrase the most beautiful in the world felt in no way undeserved. Quite literally, she transcended human beauty.
But in the dream, Eden was furious. Extremely so. He ravaged her body with rough hands, wielding and dominating her at will. He crushed her head as she screamed apologies, demanding no separate atonement. He smothered her breaths, devoured each other, drove into her flesh. How much time passed like that? Just as they leaned into each other's bodies, embracing...
Eden jolted awake.
"……!"
Cold morning air filled his lungs. Through the warm morning sunlight, he saw the dust-filled room. Eden pressed a hand to his forehead.
...Not them, and at my age, a wet dream? And such a sadistic one at that.
The kind he couldn't tell a soul about.
"Tch."
He chalked it up to the confused state of mind he'd fallen asleep in the night before. Nothing else made sense. With a barbarian's liver and stamina, Eden had no need for milk thistle. Even in deep sleep, he usually woke after a few hours. But now it was already morning. He'd slept a full day away.
At least it wasn't a nightmare. Small mercies.
Eden tried to rise from the bed.
"……Mm."
Then he sensed another presence. About a hand's breadth away. The unidentified intruder slowly raised her upper body.
"...Yaaawn."
She let out a yawn from her small mouth. Stretching her whole body to shake off the grogginess, she let out a cat-like purr. While Eden's gaze lingered on her pristine white underarm, the tattered bedding covering her body slipped down smoothly.
But she paid it no mind, too weary to even hold herself up.
...For the moment.
She clearly wasn't the same woman from his dream. No specific reason—just a difference as vast as heaven and earth, or the distance to the Earth's core.
Medieval average, though.
With meager meals, there were bound to be gaps in weight, height, and bust size.
Anyway. As Eden stared without a word, the woman sensed his gaze. She cracked her eyes half-open and tilted her head nonchalantly.
"Good morning."
She added, "A morning so pleasant it's one of the few countable ones, even across near-eternal time."
"...Crazy bitch."
It was certainly an unforgettable morning, at least. He didn't remember calling a whore, though.
004.
Even if Eden had been dropped into the game—more precisely, this dark medieval fantasy world—and had to live here, his mindset hadn't changed.
Thus, he kept his distance from the sex workers of this world. Of course, the existence of STDs that might even pierce his [Poison Resistance] and [Disease Resistance] traits played a big role.
He'd nearly succumbed to temptation a few times, but the nose-assaulting cheap perfume or the grimy sweat stains had saved him. Thanks, but no thanks.
Medieval hygiene standards...
In any case, all of Eden's diligent efforts seemed to have gone down the drain.
A man and woman waking naked in the same bed left little room for other interpretations. The bed even bore traces of it.
Eden sighed inwardly. He couldn't fathom how this woman (too tall for a girl) had ended up in his bed and spent the night with him.
As Eden pondered deeply, the woman—mid-stretch to loosen her stiffness—turned her head toward him. Her golden eyes were striking. In his time here, he'd seen eyes of every color and type, but few as intensely hued as hers.
Her naturally flowing black hair exuded elegance. Easily reaching her waist—a rare long style in the medieval era, hard to maintain. It evoked a night sky.
She's pretty, alright.
Definitely not a village whore. A king's concubine? No, even that fell short. An inexplicable divinity clung to her.
They stared at each other in silence. Unlike the dream woman, her slender frame stirred no base lust.
...How much do you tip a whore here?
As Eden fixated on her looks with such thoughts, a knock came from beyond the door.
Knock knock.
"Uh, excuse me..."
Polite speech, but the innkeeper's voice from yesterday.
Eden's superhuman senses aside, in this focused state, he'd missed the footsteps in the hall.
Didn't even hear him coming.
But that wasn't the point now. Click—the door handle turned. As yesterday, he hadn't locked it.
Eden leaped from the bed and grabbed the handle. His heavy weight made the creaky old wooden floor groan.
Crack.
A bit too much force. The handle's life ended, but he succeeded in keeping the door shut.
Unfazed by the noise, Eden called out, "...I'll be right out. Wait a moment."
"Ah, yes. Understood."
The innkeeper seemed to sense something off but thankfully retreated downstairs without pressing.
Eden sighed in relief at the fading footsteps. This prevented rumors of the village-saving barbarian whoring it up.
He turned. The woman sat in the same pose, watching him. Her gaze was intensely burdensome.
He quickly snatched up the scattered clothes by the bed and dressed. Pants up, belt buckled. Rough linen shirt on, dark robe over the shoulders. Thick leather boots completed the look—exactly as he'd entered.
No armor; a barbarian's flesh was tougher than any shoddy plate.
Axes too...
"……."
Now what? Their eyes met. Questions first.
"...I don't remember last night. Care to explain?"
A truly irresponsible thing for a barbarian to say. Eden swiftly brainwashed himself. I'm a savage. I'm a barbarian. I—
The woman smiled brightly at his question. The room seemed to light up. Her half-lidded eyes narrowed further, the gold in them deepening.
In that atmosphere, she spoke.
"How truly sad."
Her speech was a bit odd, as he'd noticed earlier.
"To spend the whole night with this goddess and not recognize her at a glance. How much it hurt. This goddess's body still throbs."
"……."
Eden nodded at her words. Yeah. Definitely a crazy bitch, clean and simple.
* * *
Eden descended to the first floor and tossed a silver coin to the innkeeper behind the counter.
"Repair fee."
"...Pardon?"
The innkeeper eyed him with half fear, half bafflement. Stunned by the sudden charity.
It was for the door handle he'd just broken. Unaware, the innkeeper waited curiously for an explanation.
But his curiosity didn't last.
"Wait a sec. Gotta get dressed too, right?"
The strangely speaking woman—the delusional goddess-wannabe—trailed after Eden with quick steps.
"......Huh."
Seeing her, the innkeeper let out a glitchy noise like a broken machine. His gaze froze.
It lingered until Eden left the inn. And such odd reactions were common in the village.
"...Wow."
"......Insane."
Everyone they passed—man or woman—gasped in awe. They were holding back for Eden's sake; without him, who knows how it'd escalate.
Eden eyed the villagers and guessed.
Not from the village, then.
No familiar looks. Nor a camp-follower whore.
Pondering, Eden hit on a possibility.
...Not a witch, is she?
From the game. Closer to witchcraft than magic, they wielded miracles and hated all intelligent beings—humans, elves, dwarves—for unknown reasons. Monsters.
No big reason for suspicion. Just her otherworldly beauty. In-game, witches hid via illusion, seducing male player chars to rip out their hearts.
Random encounters have limits.
Did she need a barbarian heart? Not confirmed yet.
Eden turned. The woman still trailed him closely.
"Oh, finally looking at this goddess... Hm?"
Ignoring her, Eden pinched and stretched her cheek.
Like glutinous rice cake, handmade by an artisan.
"...Whad kind of bud ridiculouth bedhavior ith thith?"
Her garbled speech from the pinch earned an incredulous glare.
In-game witches revealed their true form (usually an ugly crone) when physically damaged.
But she didn't change. Touch was real; her stretched, doughy face was just cute.
Instead, she grabbed his forearm. A sly smile.
Even after he released her cheek, she held on. Playfully nipping his thumb. A glimpse of her red-tinged tongue between small lips.
"Is this what you desire from this goddess?"
Eden yanked his hand back in alarm. She'd reached out wistfully but couldn't match his agility.
"...Hmph, so stingy."
What the hell was this? He felt genuine fluster. Probably more than when he'd first fallen into the game.
Then—
"Oh, barbarian sir... There you are."
Eden turned at the voice. A familiar face—one of the terrified villagers from the bandit slaughter yesterday. Better dressed than most, a middle-aged man smiled awkwardly.
"I'm the village chief, Centos."
Centos tried not to show fear as he continued.
"I came to the inn to express thanks for yesterday, but our paths must've crossed."
"Mm."
That explained the innkeeper's morning visit.
As he spoke, Centos glanced behind Eden.
"That lady... if I may ask...?"
Eden could guess Centos's thoughts.
...This mad barbarian didn't kidnap some noble from outside, did he?
Reasonable suspicion. Eden opened his mouth to explain and question.
"Never seen her in the village?"
"Of course not. Goodness..."
As Centos started to gasp—
"Such poor manners."
Hm? The self-proclaimed goddess crossed her arms alone, her face icily cold.
"No divine will, no courtesy, not even a shred of responsibility. What remains for a lowly creature propping up such paltry pride?"