A Covenant with the Nameless

Once again, I stood before that massive tree.

"What do you want from me?"

Just then, a man's voice echoed from somewhere. It was low, gentle, and carried a polite, respectful tone.

—My apologies. I simply found myself growing rather curious about you, Alan Flake.

This deity seemed quite polite. Even so, I couldn't afford to let my guard down. These gods were capricious beings; there was no telling what they might do.

"...Do you know who I am?"

Still, there was no need to be hostile right off the bat. The Reality God I had met previously had gone so far as to sacrifice herself to help me, after all. And this deity didn't seem to have summoned me with the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠intention of causing harm.

—Yes. I have heard much about you from the other gods.

Of course, there was one issue I had to address immediately.

"Then could you refrain from calling me by that name? It's an identity I must keep hidden for now."

—You need not worry about that. This space is entirely severed from the outside world.

That was a relief. However, combined with what the God of Regret and the Reality God had said in the past, this deity's mention of "hearing from other gods" suggested that active communication existed among them. For that matter, what exactly was this space?

I had countless questions, but only one thing mattered right now.

"So, what is it you wish to know about me?"

First, I needed to understand why I had been brought here. At my prompt, the deity finally posed his question.

—I found myself wondering as I watched your exam. Why is it that you do not draw your sword? Surely, with your level of swordsmanship, you would have fared exceptionally well.

But the question struck me as odd.

"If you wanted to know that, couldn't you simply read my memories?"

—Ah, that is a feat only the God of Regret can perform.

"Wait, aren't gods supposed to be omniscient in the first place?"

—Perhaps only the Reality God comes close to that? But no, even she does not know everything.

It seemed I had been harboring some misconceptions about these divine beings.

"So you are saying you aren't all-knowing and all-powerful?"

—Of course, within the boundaries of our respective concepts, we are close to omnipotent. But once we step outside those domains, we are lesser than humans. That is the nature of us gods.

"You..."

Come to think of it, I had rarely paused to contemplate the nature of gods in a realistic light. When I first entered the first Trial, I had merely dismissed the God of Regret as a convenient game mechanic. It was only during the second Trial, through the sacrifice of the Reality God and my conversation with the God of Chains, that I began to perceive these divine entities as a tangible reality.

Who on earth are they?

Even within the memories of the Constellation, the game's lore had never detailed the gods in depth. In a way, that was only natural. The era when humans and gods forged covenants belonged to the age before Chaos. Now, five hundred years later, no records of that epoch remained. The gods had vanished, leaving behind nothing but barriers and Stigmas.

The only place where one could still encounter these gods was right here, in the Trial. Until now, I had regarded this place as nothing more than a room to claim rewards, but perhaps I could uncover the true nature of the gods here.

"What... exactly are you?"

Unfortunately, my hopes were quickly dashed.

—My apologies, but this is as much as I can share. I could tell you more if I were prepared to fade away, but surely you would not want me to temporarily cease to exist and paralyze the Hero Academy.

He was right. If he vanished and this space ceased to function, it would deal a devastating blow to the Hero Academy. After all, the academy's greatest strength lay in providing practical combat experience through this virtual reality. Just as I had faced a Demon King moments ago, the spectrum of combat scenarios offered here was incredibly vast. I, too, did not want to lose access to such a valuable training ground.

"Then can I at least know what kind of deity you are?"

—It is a rule that we cannot reveal our names to anyone who has not passed the Trial. I am afraid that, too, is impossible.

It seemed I would get nothing more out of him.

"I see. In the end, what you want to know is why I don't use my sword, correct?"

Since extracting further information was out of the question, it was best to get straight to business. I had been summoned here out of a god's personal curiosity, not because I had cleared a Trial, so I couldn't expect a standard reward.

Even so, answering a deity's whim for free felt like a missed opportunity.

"However, I have no intention of giving away my reasons for free."

No matter how divine he was, I had no intention of trusting him blindly. The contract he had reportedly forged with the Magic Tower was highly suspicious as well. It was always safer to establish a transaction.

—What is it you desire? My apologies, but as you have not officially undertaken the Trial, I cannot bestow its rewards upon you.

I hadn't expected any.

"I want you to forge a contract with me. You must cooperate to the utmost of your ability to help me conceal my swordsmanship and the fact that I am using a bow."

If he refused this condition, I had no intention of speaking.

—A contract, is it...?

The deity fell silent, seemingly contemplating ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the offer, before speaking again.

—Do you truly understand what a contract entails?

It was an unexpected, rather abstract question. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠To me, a contract was simply a contract.

"Is there some other meaning to it that I am unaware of?"

—At least when it comes to covenants with gods, yes. It may strike you as unfair, but for a human to bind a god to a contract, a price must be paid from the human's side.

But something felt off.

"Is the reason why I don't use my sword not enough of a price?"

—Indeed. That is merely the item to be placed upon the scales. Quite separate from that, a transaction fee is required.

A transaction fee. I couldn't even begin to fathom what he might demand. As I stood there hesitating, the deity spoke again.

—In that case, how about we settle the fee with a Holy Relic? That sword you possess. It seems quite precious to you.

If it was a sword I cherished, there was only one. I summoned the Gravitus Replicant from my inventory.

"Are you referring to this?"

—Yes. As payment, I shall keep custody of that sword until you graduate from the academy.

It wasn't a bad deal. While parting with the Gravitus Replicant, even temporarily, stung a little, it was true that I wouldn't have any use for it for the foreseeable future. I had no reason to refuse.

"Very well. Let us forge the contract with this as the price."

With that, the covenant with the nameless deity was sealed. I began to explain my reasons for wielding a bow.

Status.

My status window perfectly illustrated my current situation. My Swordsmanship had risen to S- after my desperate struggle against Libero. Compared to when I had first inherited Swordsmanship (B), it was a monumental leap in growth.

Yet, there was a glaring issue: Swordsmanship was, in the end, merely swordsmanship. It was not an all-powerful solution. I had learned this bitter truth from Libero's tragic end. Swordsmanship was ultimately just a tool. I could not afford to be bound by the tool itself; I had to keep my eyes fixed on my ultimate goal.

"I want to protect this world."

Ultimately, it was an extension of the declaration I had made to the Cult Leader. I wanted to fulfill Gwen's wish to have a child. I wanted to avert the crisis threatening the Reim Kingdom and save Elsie's life. I wanted to prevent the destruction of this world, if only to preserve the peaceful inn I hoped to return to.

"But swordsmanship alone is not enough to achieve all of those things."

That was why I had chosen archery. Of course, my enrollment in the Hero Academy was driven by a web of complex motives—navigating the scrutiny of both the Demon Kings and the official heroes, and securing the status of a hero in the swiftest, most reliable manner possible. But a desire to master an alternative method of combat was also a major factor.

"By mastering archery, I expand my tactical options in battle."

Here, the knowledge inherited from the Constellation proved invaluable. When building a character, one must pay close attention to their growth curve—identifying where the rapid growth phases lie and where the hard caps are. At present, my Swordsmanship had essentially hit a plateau. Pouring more resources into it now would yield diminishing returns. Even my physical stats, despite my relentless training, had slowed to a crawl, showing barely any perceptible growth.

In times like these, the most effective strategy was to diversify my arsenal. That was precisely why Gwen had mastered hand-to-hand combat and spearmanship alongside her swordsmanship. Even though there was a vast gulf between my S-rank Swordsmanship and my C+ rank Archery, they served entirely different tactical purposes.

"And my archery should be more than sufficient to see me through graduation."

Of course, this didn't mean I possessed some latent genius for the bow. If I did, I would have abandoned the sword and taken up archery long ago. However, perhaps because the skill was still in its infancy, its growth rate was remarkably steady. Even now, bolstered by Wind Authority and Overload, my archery performed with the efficiency of a B-rank skill. By the time I graduated from the Hero Academy, I might very well push it to A-rank. While not extraordinary, that would be more than enough to secure my graduation. If I could acquire a decent Holy Relic to pair with it, it would become perfectly viable in actual combat.

Of course, even then...

"My primary weapon will always be the sword. That will never change. But I intend to save it for the moments when it truly matters."

Until now, I had always thrown myself headfirst into every conflict with everything I had. I could no longer afford to be so reckless. I needed to keep a trump card in reserve for the unexpected.

"To achieve that, I require your assistance."

This was my reasoning for wielding the bow. And this contract was the means to secure it.

In truth, the covenant was already sealed. The moment he took custody of the Gravitus Replicant, he had accepted my terms. Even so, I wanted to hear his verbal confirmation.

—Of course. Is our covenant not already bound?

It was the answer I had been waiting for.

With that, my contract with the nameless deity was fully ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠established. It was an unexpected windfall. This would significantly lower the chances of my true identity being exposed.

At that moment, my vision began to warp and ripple. The trial space was ejecting me.

As the world faded, the deity's voice echoed one last time.

—May blessings be upon your...

—God of Chains.

"Why do you call for me?" a man answered from atop the massive tree.

—Do you truly believe the boy requires my Trial?

"That is for you to decide," the God of Chains replied. "No matter how broad my own domain may be, I cannot claim to be more of an authority on your concept than you are."

—Perhaps. But my own concept is a difficult one, even for me to grasp.

"That is only natural, seeing as you are not human."

—I suppose so.

"You still have a year left, so give it some thought," the God of Chains said. "Who knows? It might even help you reclaim your lost divinity."