In the Name of the Goddess 2

The chat had gone completely feral over the Goddess's chest, but mercifully, the internet already had a summary of the story I'd missed.

Somehow most of the actual explanation was buried in the comments rather than the post itself, but I could piece the game's story together well enough. The setting was that the Demon King had driven a Tower into the world the Goddess created and tended — rooting it there as a beachhead for invasion.

The passages that kept opening between the Tower's interior and the outside world were part of that invasion, and that was also why boss monsters occasionally showed their faces beyond the Tower's walls.

The monsters inside the Tower were imitations of the Goddess's own creations, fashioned from Mana Stones and completely incapable of reproduction. That was because the Tower's interior was a false world where life could not exist — and the Demon King's ultimate goal was to fully assimilate the outside with the inside, remaking everything into a world without life.

Han Se-ah's stream VOD still hadn't gone up, so I had no idea how many posts I'd had to dig through just to dig this much out. The people who actually tried to explain things properly got flamed for it. Absolute lunatics, the lot of them.

"Ah, is that so? No traces of orcs, and you received a baptism of Holy Power in a clearing to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠southeast…"

"Yes. We used magic to comb every clearing thoroughly."

While I hung back pretending to check myself over and furiously scoured the internet boards, Han Se-ah was wrapping up the quest — or rather, the adventurer's commission — as the party's leader.

Completing a quest through the player interface and collecting a reward from the game system was one thing; finishing a commission as an adventurer and collecting payment from the knights was something else entirely. Double-charging was disgusting, but double rewards? Every player on the planet would throw both hands up in celebration for that.

Not that the knights were about to pull some stunt and refuse to pay the commission fee just because we'd been blessed by the Goddess.

"And there were no other anomalies?"

"None. We searched every place an orc might have been, but there was nothing."

The knight managing the forest glanced once at Han Se-ah's staff, then nodded — apparently he'd never sensed anything suspicious either. Without any way to produce proof that the orcs were gone, that was about as good as it was going to get.

After scribbling something on his paperwork, the knight headed back to the tent behind him and returned with a heavy pouch. Judging purely by the bulk, there was no chance gold coins were mixed in — just a big leather sack. Whether it was for convenience or because tossing a handful of gold coins alone wouldn't look impressive enough, it was bound to be a mix of silver and copper.

Sure enough, the pouch was stuffed full of copper, and the moment Han Se-ah took it and dumped it into her inventory, her brow furrowed in a complicated little crease.

"We've got the commission fee, so we can head back to the city now."

"We came all the way out near the capital just to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠turn around immediately? Feels a little disappointing."

"Do you have business in the capital?"

"Not really. I'm just a little curious, that's all."

While Han Se-ah sorted her inventory, Grace and Irene chatted quietly among themselves. Irene was looking forward ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to seeing the children again once they got back, and Grace was curious about the kingdom's capital but didn't seem particularly interested in sightseeing.

This was a fantasy world built on a medieval backdrop — what tourist attractions or amusement parks could there possibly be? The capital she'd never visited might pique her curiosity, but there was just as little to see there as in any other city. Sure, the capital had more noble estates than a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠regular city, but staring at someone else's house from the outside wasn't exactly entertainment.

"If we don't have any particular business in the capital… let's stop by another time."

"Yeah. I was just curious, that's all."

As we talked among ourselves, a soldier came over and guided us to a carriage. Even if the pay had been light, having a carriage arranged for the trip both ways was a real treat. It was a little ridiculous, but it reminded me of the welfare gap between a small company and a major corporation.

I was walking toward the carriage, lost in some absurd thought about my previous life, when Kayden — who'd been quiet this whole time — sidled up to me. Given that the Northern Grand Duke and I had spoken alone, she was probably a little uneasy.

"Um, Sir Roland?"

"What is it?"

"What did you discuss with His Grace the Grand Duke?"

I was fairly sure I'd told the party it was a private matter of the ducal house and I couldn't speak of it — whether she hadn't heard because she'd been lost in thought at the time, or whether she was quietly admitting she belonged to that house, she was asking me now in a careful little voice. I debated how to answer, then tossed out a single line.

"Don't worry about it, Katie Wellesley."

"……!"

She short-circuited like a cat that had just spotted a cucumber — clearly never imagining I'd overheard that much. Her expression went strangely blank in an instant, her body locked up rigid, and her gait turned awkward.

The rest of the party, completely missing Kayden's stiff reaction, climbed into the carriage one by one. With the women sitting side by side, Kayden ended up next to me — and she immediately shifted her hips to put some distance between us. Where the other women sat close enough to link arms, Kayden and I each claimed a window seat on opposite sides of the carriage.

While the others gazed out at the Avergne Forest receding into the distance and murmured their regrets, she snuck glance after glance at my face.

"In the end, all we did was tour a bunch of pretty forest. Once we get back and start climbing the Tower, the comparison is going to be brutal."

"It was a blessed forest, after all. Experiencing the Goddess's grace firsthand was a joyful experience."

Whether a storm was raging through Kayden's — no, Katie Wellesley's — head or not, the carriage rolled steadily onward.

The return trip was just as uneventful and quiet. So quiet, in fact, that Han Se-ah shut off her stream again — there was simply nothing to show.

A coachman we'd never seen before, not the one who'd brought us to the forest, drove us toward the relay station. The main roads near the capital, cleared and maintained by the knights and the army, were so peaceful it was almost eerie — not a single bandit or wandering monster to block the way.

The only traffic was the occasional noble's carriage or a merchant caravan's freight wagons rolling past, which made it the perfect environment for quietly browsing the internet.

…She's kind of hard to ignore.

I'd pulled up an internet hologram window against the carriage glass, pretending to look outside, and a fierce stare was boring into me from the side. The source was obviously Kayden — Katie Wellesley, to be precise.

Well, of course. Her runaway status had been found out, and on top of that, the cross-dressing. She must have been dying to say something. The only reason she couldn't was Han Se-ah sitting across from us, still awake and digging through internet windows the same way I was.

I was sitting by the right-hand window with my head turned that way, browsing the net, while she sat by the left-hand window with her back to the glass, staring straight at me — so of course I could feel her eyes. At that level of blatant staring, you wouldn't need superhuman senses. A perfectly ordinary middle or high schooler back in peaceful Korea would have noticed.

I kept browsing regardless. Trivial news about a pro AOS team losing to a five-man AI squad, or jelly-form nutrition packs straight out of a sci-fi movie hitting the commercial market.

Scrolling through celebrity gossip and the worthless word-salad of hack journalists, I felt a quiet flicker of relief — at least I probably wasn't a brain in a jar.

Han Se-ah was connected from the outside, and tens of thousands of viewers were communicating with her. Video sites held more creative content than I could watch in a lifetime, and if you added every other novel, comic, and film floating around the internet, the total was even larger still.

I clung to that thought, scrubbing away the anxiety and suspicion that occasionally surged up — and then the carriage came to a smooth stop.

"When we get off… can we talk for a moment?"

At the same time, it wasn't Kayden but Katie Wellesley who quietly spoke up beside me.