Curse and the Holy Land (4)

The last of the spam kimchi fried rice would go cold while he played, but did that matter right now? An NPC resident had just visited his game!

He scrambled to log in. The familiar empty lot filled the screen—so familiar by now it almost felt like home. The dwarves who usually bustled about working were nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell? Where'd they all go?"

A bug? Worker-vanishing bug? His heart lurched for a second. Gold from monster hunts was decent enough, but the real backbone of an idle game was steady resource income. Without workers, progress crawled.

Anxious, he panned the camera every which way hunting for them. Workers vanishing to a bug at this stage? He didn't even want to imagine it.

"Ah! There they are. Thank god..."

Thankfully the dwarves were all crammed into the tavern he'd built earlier. Once the panic faded, the sight of them drinking and goofing off started to get on his nerves.

"You're workers. Work, damn it..."

His inventory was full, so of course they weren't crafting weapons. Annoyed, he dumped every weapon he had. The dwarves lurched up mid-drink and stampeded toward the mines, short legs pumping as they toddled along. Kind of cute, honestly. They brought in less gold than Kenis—total loser dwarves by comparison—but watching them day after day, he'd grown fond of the little guys.

"Oh. So the residents were in here?"

With the dwarves gone, three unfamiliar NPC residents sat blankly in the tavern: a pink-haired girl, an old man, and a scary-looking guy. The most mismatched trio imaginable.

"...Okay, now what?"

Residents showing up was great and all, but what was he supposed to do with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them? They just sat there staring. No alarm, no tutorial prompt, nothing?

The old man shot to his feet, shouted that garbled nonsense with a huge grin—then suddenly face-planted on the floor and started bawling. What the hell?

"Is the grandpa's character concept dementia? Those mood swings are wild."

He looked ancient. Hopefully he'd live a long time.

Ping-pong—

A message window popped up over the crying old man.

"Haah..."

He'd half expected it. The second the message appeared, a sigh escaped on its own. "Give Blessing"? The grammar was already broken. Why did a god-tier game like this have such garbage translation?

"...It should be 'Bless,' not 'Give Blessing,' right?"

Shitty translation wasn't new, so he just rolled with it. Grumbling, he tapped 『Give Blessing』 without thinking. The guy looked ancient—if he picked 『Scold Him』 and the old man dropped dead on the spot, it'd leave a bad taste.

—Shaaaa

Just like with Friga, glittering stars appeared and sparkled around the old man's face, then vanished with a little pop. That effect still made him sigh every single time.

"Seriously... the boss fights had cool effects. Why the hell..."

Something hot rose in his throat; he forced it back down. Loving a dumpster-fire game like this made him the real sinner.

The old man beamed, then vanished in a swirl of light. Two residents left in the tavern.

This time the pink-haired girl dropped to her knees and cried out.

Ping-pong—

Second resident wanted to buy a weapon. Just match the type and he should be good.

"Staff or wand? Hmm... do I even have any unlocked..."

Nothing staff- or wand-like among his unlocked weapons. He scrolled the list hunting for something decent.

"Nothing really grabs me..."

Every single one looked like it was made for some mage to stand in the back casting spells. Undersized, weak visuals—he clicked his tongue.

"Tsk. Looks like something a guy would poke around with from the rear... Not a fan, but do I have to give her one of these anyway?"

Just as the dilemma was getting annoying, something halfway decent caught his eye.

"Heh. This counts as a staff, I guess."

He spent leftover gold to craft a "Staff" and dragged it onto the girl. She took it, beamed, then dissolved into light and vanished.

Clink-clink-clink—

A solid pile of gold poured in. The staff's grade hadn't been that high, yet it paid surprisingly well.

Last one: the scary-looking man. He knelt quietly and stared up at the screen.

Ping-pong—

The male resident wanted a weapon too—and picky about it, with two conditions. Sacred? Did any of his weapons even have "Sacred" in the name?

"'Sacred'... nothing starts with 'Sacred.'"

He combed the weapon list carefully. No "Sacred" modifier anywhere. What the hell? He kept flipping through until a thought suddenly clicked.

"Ah...! Maybe it's a material?"

Somewhere he'd read that silver-plated weapons worked great against undead-type monsters. In fantasy, silver was the classic anti-evil symbol, right?

He quickly forged a "Worn Dagger" using "Decent Silver." He could have unlocked better weapons, but this wasn't a cute girl character—no point going all-out for a guy.

The man took the weapon, bowed his head in silence, and vanished in a swirl of light. Looks like the material condition had been right after all.

"Why do they give conditions like some kind of riddle?"

Solving the little quiz had been fun in its own way, but the lack of clarity was brutal. The more he thought about it, the more the developers pissed him off. The game itself was this much fun—and they botched the translation this hard?

"I oughta just send a horse-drawn truck straight into their company."

He'd skipped dinner for the game, and now it was almost time for the gym. He collapsed onto the bed like he was sinking into it. Body heavy. Exhausted.

"Ahhh... gotta... go work out..."

Still had to eat the fried rice too... His heavy eyelids fluttered, vision blurring.

Twinkle—

Through the haze, a tiny starlight flickered from the broken phone—

And then he sank into sleep.

Saaaaa—

Priestess Ruel slowly opened the eyes she had squeezed shut. A great door had flooded them with brilliant light, and after that—

Where... is this...?

Wind from the edge of the plains brushed past, gently ruffling Ruel's hair. Endless green grass filled her vision, bowing and rising with every breeze.

"Waaah—"

A soft gasp of wonder slipped from her lips. The peaceful landscape soothed her heart all on its own.

"O-ohhh...!! This is the land where the gods dwell...!!"

Great Priest Antonio's hands trembled as he slowly sank to his knees. His head lowered farther and farther until he pressed his face into the earth and began to weep.

"Thank you...!! For allowing this old servant to set foot upon this glorious land!! Ohhh, thank you!!"

His eyes were bloodshot from tears as he rattled off prayer after prayer in a frantic stream—praises for the gods pouring out like a machine gun.

"This place..."

Demonic slowly surveyed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the surroundings. Endless plains stretching past the horizon, a sky where both sun and moon hung strangely together. Small buildings visible beyond the grasslands. And holy power so dense it was almost hard to breathe...

Holy power this thick saturating the very air...

Demonic carefully kept his expression under control while fingering the locket brooch at his throat. If this truly was the land of the gods... might she be here too?

The thought that he might see her again—the one who had gone to the gods first—made his hand tremble faintly.

Huuu—

He forced out a long breath, crushing the surging emotion. Still looking at the weeping Antonio and Ruel, who was turning in every direction, he spoke.

"Great Priest Antonio. Priestess Ruel. There are buildings over that way."

"Ohhh!! Yes, let us ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠go at once! The gods have called us to make use of us—we must hurry!"

"Y-yes..."

Antonio sprang up and hastily smoothed his rumpled clothes. Ruel, watching his face carefully, fidgeted and made a show of straightening her own.

"Come, let us go! This is the land where the gods reside—never forget a reverent heart! We must remember everything we see! We have a duty to record this glorious moment and pass it down to future generations!"

Antonio strode forward with purpose. Ruel trotted after him like a puppy, and Demonic brought up the rear at a measured pace, guarding the party.

They walked the endless plains using the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠distant buildings as a landmark. Ruel glanced around, then cautiously spoke to Antonio, who was still murmuring prayers.

"Umm— Great Priest Antonio?"

"And protect us forever with Your holy light— hmm? What is it?"

Antonio's tone had settled. Walking had cooled the earlier frenzy; he was back to his usual kindly self.

"If this really is where the gods live... um, do you think there are angels too?"

Ruel asked shyly. Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment at the childish question, but her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him.

That pure, childlike look made Antonio laugh heartily.

"Hahaha! Whether there are angels?"

He gazed at Ruel with the warm eyes of a man imagining what it might feel like to have a granddaughter of his own.

Look at that expectant shine. Truly the pure soul chosen by the gods!

"Kyaa!"

Antonio smiled gently and patted Ruel's head.

"Well now, I expect there are."

"Really? Are they as beautiful as the scriptures say?! With wings on their backs! And light shining from their heads!"

"Haha— wouldn't you think so?"

Antonio recognized the description from the scriptures left by the First Saintess. Kenelm—the saintess said to have first received the blessings of the five gods. The scriptures she wrote after answering the gods' call and visiting their land were widely known even among common folk.

He looked softly at Ruel. Her pink eyes glittered with anticipation.

"They will certainly be here. Angels are the gods' servants, after all."

"Wow! Waaah—!"

Ruel clenched her little hands into fists and bounced up and down. The innocent display drew fond smiles from both Antonio and Demonic before they even realized it.

Chatting as they walked, the buildings soon came into clear view—structures scattered around a massive temple at the center.

"I hear voices from over there."

Demonic's sharp ears caught the faint sound. Following his lead, the party headed toward one of the buildings.

They arrived at what looked like a small tavern. From the shabby little place that might have sat in some quiet countryside village came a raucous racket.

— "Hey—! Bring more beer!"

— "Don't order me around—get it yourself!"

— "You little—!"

Not the land of the gods so much as a brawl of drunkards throwing a feast.

Antonio felt something going terribly wrong.

"Hoho... It seems the angels are holding a festival."

"...? Festival? No matter how I listen, that sounds more like a fight—"

"Ahem! Ahem!"

Antonio shot Demonic frantic eye signals. Spotting Ruel behind them with her eyes wide and sparkling, Demonic hurriedly nodded.

"Ah, ahh! Indeed! It appears the angels are celebrating a festival!"

"R-right? We might disturb them mid-festival, so let us look around elsewhere for a while."

"Exactly! We wouldn't want to spoil the angels' merriment—better to return a little later!"

Antonio and Demonic desperately explained to Ruel. She drooped like a rain-soaked kitten.

"Uuu... Then I guess we have no choice."

Ruel turned away with limp steps. Heavy, dragging footsteps.

Just as Demonic and Antonio exhaled small sighs of relief—

— "Who's out there?!"

— "A customer?"

— "Dunno? Just come on in!"

Voices punched through the door. Ruel's face lit up and she bolted before anyone could stop her.

And then—

"Angels!"

Creeeak—

The old tavern door swung open.