Rain in Basilium

After leaving the village at dawn, stopping by a neighboring village for breakfast, and walking for another half-day, I finally arrived at my first destination.

"Oh."

Clusters of buildings lined the streets, and crowds of people bustled about. I let out an involuntary gasp of admiration at a sight so utterly different from the remote frontier village I had been staying in.

To anyone looking, I must have seemed like a complete country bumpkin.

Well, to be fair, I actually am one.

Basilium, the central city of Basil. It was my first time visiting a city of this scale since arriving in this world. Of course, compared to major metropolises like the Reim Kingdom or the Holy City Heilen, it was merely a mid-sized city, but its scale was still grand enough to justify its reputation as the heart of Basil.

So, where is the Church's Basil branch?

The Basil branch of the Holy Church. It was one of the primary reasons I had come to Basilium. There was something I absolutely had to do there. However, finding the Church's branch amidst this dense forest of buildings was no easy task. After all, as a character-raising simulation game, the map hadn't been rendered in such meticulous detail.

How should I...

Just then, a group of people walking down the street caught my eye. Actually, it was impossible not to notice them. Each of them carried a menacing weapon, and a few wore incredibly eccentric outfits. But above all, the cloaks they wore in common made their identities unmistakable.

Heroes.

The white cloaks, embroidered with the cross that symbolized the Holy Church, were identical to the one Gwen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠used to wear. And they held the clue to finding the Church branch.

Bulging backpacks and coats still caked in dust.

They seemed to be returning from beyond the barrier. If so, their destination was obvious.

I'll just follow them.

I naturally fell into step behind them.

Just as I thought.

By tailing the party of Heroes, I easily reached the Church building. However, the moment I stepped inside, a certain notice caught my eye.

'Seeking the Hero who visited Basilia, the village on the northern frontier of Basil.'

Basilia was the village where I had been staying.

What is this?

To call it a simple notice, there were far too many of them plastered all over the Church building. It felt as though the Church was desperately searching with bloodshot eyes. And there was only one reason I could think of for them to pay so much attention to Basil, a place they would normally ignore.

The news of the 71st Demon King's death must have spread.

In truth, I had expected this to some extent. I knew there was a network of sorts among the Demon Kings to monitor each other's survival, and I also knew that the Church had a spy embedded deep within the Demon King's forces. Sooner or later, the news of the 71st Demon King's demise was bound to reach the Church's ears.

Even so, this is too fast.

With the death of the 71st Demon King, the remaining Demon Kings would start suspecting one another. Thus, I had assumed the Church's spy would keep a low profile for a while. Yet, as if to defy my expectations, the bastard had immediately leaked the information to the Church.

He certainly has guts.

Thanks to him, the Church was frantically searching for the Hero who had defeated the 71st Demon King, but they would never find them. After all, I wasn't even a Hero. If they limited their search to Heroes, they were looking in the wrong place.

For now, remaining unfound is beneficial for both them and me.

Just as the Church had spies among the Demon Kings, the Demon Kings had spies within the Church. And not just one, but many. Whoever the Hero who killed the 71st Demon King was, if their identity was leaked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the Demon Kings, they would face relentless, overwhelming targeting. If such pressure—which even high-grade Heroes struggled to withstand—were directed at me before I even became a Hero, survival would be nearly impossible.

It's still too early for my name to get out.

Even though I had slain a Demon King, it was only possible thanks to Finn's help and a surprise, single-strike attack. In particular, the 71st Demon King had an exceptionally weak Demon King form due to his nature as a parasite, which allowed me to finish him in one blow. It was a perfect alignment of favorable conditions. Any ordinary Demon King would easily obliterate someone like me before they even had to unleash their true form.

So, for now...

I spoke to the receptionist.

"I'd like to register as a Pathfinder."

Registering as a Hero could wait. Aside from the risk of exposing my identity, the status of a Hero came with constant surveillance from the Church. I still had tasks to complete that required me to remain outside their watchful gaze.

"Registering as a Pathfinder? Please wait a moment."

The receptionist called for another staff member from the back. The employee opened a door next to the reception desk and gestured to me.

"Follow me, please."

Following her inside, we soon arrived in a small room. It contained a single desk and a peculiar-looking device.

Is that a Holy Relic measuring device?

It looked roughly similar to the device described in the game when registering a Holy Relic with the Church.

Not that I have any use for it right now.

Both the Gravitus Replicant and the Amyah were Holy Relics with highly questionable origins. It would be disastrous if something went wrong and they were confiscated by the Church. In principle, ownership of a Holy Relic belonged to the person who first acquired it. However, there were strict limitations on transferring that ownership. First, it had to be registered with the Church. Furthermore, because the Church insisted on managing all Holy Relics, any transfer or trade of a relic required an official report.

Neither the Gravitus Replicant nor the Amyah had been reported. Therefore, there was a high chance they would be seized if discovered.

Fortunately, having an inventory makes hiding them effortless.

I just needed to be a little careful.

"Your name?"

"Alan Flake."

I gave my real name. It was much easier than using a fake name and risking a slip-up, and it wasn't as if my name was famous anyway.

"Place of residence?"

"I don't have a fixed address."

She didn't press me on my answer. Her expression was one of understanding. Given the nature of Pathfinders, who risked their lives wandering outside the barriers, it was common for them to be penniless vagrants.

"Do you currently possess any Holy Relics?"

"No."

Once again, she accepted my answer without question. She smoothly pulled a contract out of the desk drawer.

"We will lease you a 1-star Holy Relic. It won't assist you in combat, but it will allow you to survive outside the barrier. However, you must agree to the terms of this contract."

Taking the document from her, I began reading through the clauses.

It was a straightforward contract clearly dividing the responsibilities of Party A and Party B. However, since my purpose in registering as a Pathfinder wasn't to excavate relics, most of these clauses didn't concern me.

"I won't be starting my Pathfinder activities immediately, so is it possible to lease the Holy Relic at a later date?"

"Yes, that is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠perfectly fine."

However, Clause D caught my attention.

"What exactly does Clause D mean?"

"Lately, there has been an increase in suicidal individuals posing as Pathfinders, so we must insist on this clause."

To think such a situation existed. But it made sense. Even if it was only a 1-star Holy Relic, the Church would suffer significant losses if suicidal people kept taking them outside the barrier and dying with them.

"I've finished signing."

"Yes, confirmed. We've noted that you will lease the relic later. Well then, we look forward to your future endeavors as a Pathfinder."

She said the words, but her tone held absolutely no expectation. I didn't plan on doing any actual Pathfinder work anyway, so the feeling was mutual.

Now that I'm registered as a Pathfinder...

It was time to cash in.

Thud.

A worn backpack landed on the counter with a heavy thud.

"These are Barrier Fragments. I'd like to exchange them for cash, please."

The backpack was filled to the brim with crystals known as Barrier Fragments. While diligently hunting Chaos Beasts to accumulate SP, I had taken the time to harvest these from their corpses. In the beginning, I had struggled because I didn't know the exact locations of the beasts. Regardless, returning these Barrier Fragments to the state was an excellent way to earn cash.

As long as you meet one condition, that is.

The Barrier Fragments recovered by the state were synthesized back into the national barrier stones to extend the lifespan of the barriers. This was the only way to slow down the natural contraction of the barrier's area, even if only by a little. Consequently, every nation implemented policies to monopolize these fragments. This included banning the private trade of Barrier Fragments and waiving exchange fees for Heroes and Pathfinders.

No matter how strictly private sales were banned, black market trades persisted. Thus, the state made sure that Heroes and Pathfinders—the primary producers of Barrier Fragments—had no incentive to deal with private brokers. This was precisely why I had registered as a Pathfinder. If I was going to exchange them, I had no desire to lose a hefty chunk to unnecessary fees.

"Could you show me your Hero or Pathfinder identification?"

I pulled the newly issued Pathfinder registration card from my pocket and showed it to her.

"Confirmed... but you've gathered quite a lot for a Pathfinder, haven't you?"

Was it? I had deliberately left a significant portion in my inventory and only brought a fraction in my bag to avoid raising suspicion. Apparently, even that amount was considered massive for a mere Pathfinder.

"I just kept hoarding them without exchanging them, and it piled up like this."

Fortunately, the employee didn't press any further. The exchange didn't take long, and soon, a comfortable sum of money was resting in my hands.

With this, my travel expenses are sorted.

It had been tedious to harvest each Barrier Fragment individually, but it was well worth the effort.

Now then...

I was starving.

Let's go get some food.

Come to think of it, I hadn't eaten a single bite since arriving in Basilium. I was curious to see if city food tasted any different.

The taste is decent enough, but...

I looked out the restaurant window.

I didn't expect it to rain.

A light drizzle had started falling midway through my dinner. I had hoped it would let up by the time I finished, but now it was coming down in a relentless downpour.

I'm going to get absolutely soaked.

The robe Gwen had given me was made of a water-resistant material, but because it was heavily stained with the blood of Chaos Beasts, I avoided wearing it unless I was heading outside the barrier. It looked like I would have to brave the rain to reach an inn and then change into a spare set of clothes from my inventory.

I should probably buy a raincoat at some point.

As I was lost in thought, a small figure outside the restaurant window caught my eye.

Huh?

That... I stood up from my seat and walked toward the window.

It was definitely someone I knew. The soot covering them was being washed away by the rain, revealing a brilliant blonde hair underneath that didn't lose its luster even in the dark, rainy night. I only knew one person who fit that description.

I thought there was a chance we might cross paths, but...

No, in truth, I had believed the probability of meeting her was close to zero. There was only one scenario where this character would end up here: if someone actually put the "snake-oil route" I had created into practice.

Is there seriously someone still trying that route?