Starting with the Tutorial! (2)
Still awash in rapture, Opus Fallac lifted his face to the heavens in praise—and felt an unseen force take hold of him.
A gentle pull, as though something were guiding him somewhere. Surely it was the Great One leading him onward.
The first worker rose from where he knelt and walked without end, following that divine guidance wherever it led.
How long he walked, he could not say. Then, at last, a vast mine rose into view.
"Ah… Great One. I understand what I must do."
The moment his eyes fell upon the mine, Opus Fallac knew his purpose. He was a worker, a servant—and the duty carved itself into him as naturally as breath. He was to enter the mine and bring forth the minerals the Great One desired.
As his god willed it.
He set his feet in motion and stepped into the darkness of the mine.
Time slipped past. When Opus Fallac emerged again, he carried a crude, unrefined lump of copper in his arms.
Grunting with effort, he hauled the rough copper ore all the way to the open clearing—and once more he felt the Great One's gaze upon him.
A moment passed.
Then the earth began to rumble.
Rrrrrumble—!
The ground at the center of the clearing split open.
Crrrack—!
From the fissure rose a colossal temple. As the tremors faded, the structure stood fully revealed.
It soared so high that Opus Fallac had to tip his head all the way back just to glimpse its peak. Its pillars were adorned with magnificent carvings that sang of the god's greatness, each one gleaming in proud display.
At the heart of the temple stood a massive door—a gatekeeper dividing the realm of the divine from the world of mortals. Its sheer size, its weight, its presence alone filled any who beheld it with spontaneous awe.
"Ahh…"
Trembling in heart and limb, Opus Fallac hurried toward the temple with quickened steps.
Krrrrumble—
As he drew near, the temple doors moved of their own accord, parting just wide enough for him to pass through.
Whoosh—
The instant Opus Fallac set foot inside, every torch within flared to life at once, flooding the interior with light.
There, at the center, stood an altar—large enough for a full-grown human to lie upon with room to spare.
He had to offer tribute upon that altar.
Opus Fallac knew it by instinct. The offering must be placed there and given to the god. With trembling hands, he set the mineral upon the altar.
Then he dropped to his knees and prayed.
"I offer this to the Great One. I, Opus Fallac, Your humble first servant, present this first tribute. I beg You—accept this offering."
He prayed with all his heart. Please, let the Great One find this offering pleasing.
Had that earnest prayer reached his god?
Fwoosh—!
The copper ore upon the altar blazed with brilliant light, dissolved into motes of radiance, and vanished.
"Ahh!! Thank You! Thank You!!"
Opus Fallac felt his very soul swell with faith and grace as he poured out prayers of gratitude.
How long he remained in prayer, he did not know. When at last he stepped back out of the temple, a new building stood at the edge of the empty clearing.
A forge.
Its name, its purpose, even its finest structural details seemed to etch themselves into his mind. Opus Fallac felt no alarm. This was the Holy Land, where the god watched and worked miracles—everything happened by the Great One's will.
As he gazed upon the forge the Great One had raised and felt a solemn reverence well within him, Opus Fallac sensed the divine gaze turn upon him once more—and something begin to flow into him through his very soul.
Thump—
Thump—
Something unknown poured toward the essence of life deep within his soul.
Knowledge.
"Ah—ahh…!!! Aaaaah!!!!"
Unknown knowledge flooded in. No—it overflowed. This was the knowledge of a god. New wisdom and understanding surged up from within his mind like a spring.
The knack of forging, the proper rhythm of the hammer, the countless techniques of beating and refining metal—all of it was carved into his thoughts.
And then, in Opus Fallac's mind, the image of a single blade took shape. A longsword, meant to be gripped in both hands. This was what he had to make.
The Great One desires this sword! He wants a blade forged by my own hands—I must offer it!
He strode swiftly into the forge. An anvil and hammer, pristine and unused. A furnace, cold for now, yet ready at any moment to cradle fierce heat.
As if entranced, Opus Fallac took the hammer in hand. Fire sprang to life in the furnace of its own accord—and soon the forge rang with the clamor of hammering.
Clang!!
Clang!!
Clang!!
A fair stretch of time passed. The world outside had grown dim, and the torches set about the clearing flared to life, illuminating the surroundings, when Opus Fallac finally emerged from the forge with a longsword in hand.
The first work he had ever created since being shaped upon this land. Holding the longsword he had forged, Opus Fallac hurried toward the temple.
To offer this blade to his god. He had been born for this—and so he would fulfill his duty.
Urging his short legs onward, Opus Fallac entered the temple and, with trembling hands, laid the longsword upon the altar.
Then he prayed with all his heart.
Fwoooosh—!
The longsword upon the altar transformed into light and vanished. Once more, Opus Fallac felt his soul fill to the brim with satisfaction and joy.
Mine the minerals. Offer them to the Great One. Forge weapons at the forge and offer those as well. This is my sacred mission…!
He trembled for a moment in rapture and delight—then set off at once toward the mine. To gather more minerals for the Great One. To forge more weapons.
After he had crafted several more longswords and offered them upon the altar in the same manner, Opus Fallac spotted unfamiliar figures emerging from the temple.
"Who goes there! This is the sacred territory of the god!"
Confronted with the first living beings he had ever seen in the Holy Land besides himself, Opus Fallac called out in wary challenge.
"We are children shaped by the Great One's own hands! I am Sedus Fallac, the second child—and this one beside me is Trivius Palak, the third!"
Approaching carefully, he saw that they looked exactly like him. Thick arms and legs, coarse, rugged beards, and short stature. Even their features so closely resembled his own that they were unmistakably of the same kind—his brothers.
"Ohh! Brothers!"
Opus Fallac ran to them and welcomed them with open arms. The joy of meeting kin for the first time in his life was overwhelming. The dwarves embraced one another, and then Opus Fallac took the lead.
"Come on—no sense standing around here. Let's head to the mine, dig up some ore, and talk while we work!"
Together with Sedus and Trivius Palak, Opus Fallac entered the mine. They mined ore and shared many stories. Most of the conversation was praise for the Great One, but they were genuinely happy as they dug, and the work of forging weapons to offer filled them with joy.
They were the god's servants and workers—and so they were simply happy.
"Ah, I should fire up the game."
During the company lunch break, I'd been about to take a nap when the game I'd installed yesterday suddenly crossed my mind. It was an idle game, so it would keep running fine without me logging in—but leaving the tutorial unfinished yesterday still nagged at me.
"Wonder if I've made much money yet?"
When I logged in, I found the dwarves busily shuttling between the temple, the mine, and the forge, crafting weapons. Watching those little legs scurry about was somehow adorable.
"Oh, I've got a decent pile of gold."
I'd only summoned three workers, yet a fair amount of money had accumulated. Right on cue, the building list began blinking with a prompt to tap it—signaling that the next tutorial step was ready.
I opened the building list and found a structure available for unlock.
"An inn?"
Every other building was locked. Only one—the Dilapidated Inn—showed as unlockable.
"Do the workers use an inn?"
Curious, I spent the resources to unlock it and placed it on a suitable empty plot. Being a low-grade structure, it only took about ten seconds before the completion notice appeared.
Ta-daa—!
From now on, adventurers will visit the inn at regular intervals. When adventurers purchase weapons, you will earn 1.5× the weapon's value in gold.
Ah—so that's what the inn was for. Adventurers would come by in person to buy weapons. That was the setup.
"I can sell them for one-and-a-half times the price? Then I'd better put out the best stuff I've got."
The best weapon I currently owned was the single E-GradeOld Long Sword I'd made yesterday. To craft anything better, I'd need to save up more gold and unlock higher-tier weapons.
"One building and I'm already broke."
Since I had no idea when an adventurer might show up, I used the copper the dwarves were hauling in real time to craft a few spare Old Long Swords.
I managed to make four in total.
"I'd better move a few longswords over to the inn."
The inn had three empty slots, so I transferred three Old Long Swords—one into each. After that, there was nothing left to do.
I sat watching the screen for a moment when Workers No. 1, 2, and 3 all looked up at the sky and began shouting something.
"B£nedicat ti€i v¡r ma€nus¿"
Still completely unintelligible. Whether it was a botched game translation or intentional, I still couldn't tell.
"These days half the overseas games out there have garbage localization anyway."
Muttering to myself, I closed the game, leaned back in my chair, and tried to catch some sleep.