Salvation of the Boss (10)
If you were told you'd be receiving a reward for completing a quest, your heart would flutter with anticipation over what might come.
All the more so if it came after you'd worked yourself half to death for it.
Endure hardship, receive compensation in kind — that's how the world normally works.
And yet, even when I saw the notification that my reward was being delivered, I couldn't force a smile to save my life.
If anything, I was anxious.
Why? Because I'd been burned before!
That beggarly, hopelessly incompetent, pedophile pervert of a Chief God, and on top of it all he's so petty—
No. I mean. Never mind.
That was just the horny Fox moving my mouth without permission.
I said nothing of the sort.
In any case, the great Lord Armadi, who governs over all the gods from His seat at the very top, is omniscient — and an omniscient being does not easily forget the past.
That's why, when you've done something wrong, He sometimes delivers a pointed little reminder, in the spirit of "reflect on your mistakes and don't repeat them."
I've been on the receiving end of that reminder before.
I still remember it. Phoebe's mortified face the day I called her a lewd saintess.
And so the girl who, mere moments ago, had been hurling insults at the supreme Chief God without even knowing who was listening—
Ha. Shit. I can't do this anymore. Seriously.
Do you have any idea how much I've suffered at the hands of that worthless, incompetent Chief God? And now I'm supposed to tremble in fear over a single reward?
Does that make any sense?
He's the one who threw me into danger without telling me anything, and I nearly died how many times because of it!
If that pathetic, useless Chief God had even an ounce of conscience, he'd cough up something proper!
And besides, is that chintzy excuse for a god really going to kill me over a little complaint?
Let him try! Though I doubt an incompetent god who can't solve anything without me could manage much of anything anyway!
Ding.
Eep!
...You were listening, weren't you?
No, right?
Right?
With trembling eyes, I checked the first message and let out a sigh of relief before I could stop myself.
A miracle has been performed. Accordingly, the quantity of your Divinity and your Divinity proficiency will increase enormously!
Thank goodness. Just good timing, that's all.
I got scared over nothing!
Haaaah. So this is what Pavlov's dog feels like. I guess getting burned before does things to you — now even the chime of an incoming message makes my eyes twitch.
An increase in the quantity and proficiency of my Divinity, then.
That's a good reward.
Ever since I started learning techniques from Grandpa, I'd been feeling lacking in all sorts of ways, so this was just what I needed.
I'd have to check exactly how enormous "enormous" turned out to be, but it was clearly a good reward regardless.
I'd test it out with Grandpa later tonight.
Even with my body in bad shape, I could move just fine in Practice Mode, after all.
I was looking forward to it.
I wanted to see the look of genuine awe on Grandpa's face.
You have gained many insights regarding Divinity. Your skill gains new possibilities.
Ruel-style Divine Hand-to-Hand Combat is evolving.
Ruel-style Divine Hand-to-Hand Combat → Ruel-style Divine Martial Arts
The messages didn't stop there.
This time it was about my Divine Hand-to-Hand Combat.
They said my skill had evolved, but what exactly was the difference between hand-to-hand combat becoming "Divine Martial Arts"?
Weren't they basically the same thing?
Given that both skills had Ruel's name in front of them, I figured asking Grandpa would get me an answer.
Hmm. No. I'll hold off on asking for now.
I want to surprise him later.
A Quest Exemption Ticket will be granted.
And the next one was—
...Huh?
An Exemption Ticket?!
You mean, if a quest I hate pops up, I can use this thing to make it go away?
For real?!
For a moment I wondered if I'd misread it, so I rubbed my eyes and checked again — but the text was still right there.
An exemption ticket!
The instant I confirmed it, every unreasonable quest I'd ever endured flashed through my mind.
All those absurd, prank-like missions.
And now I could make any one of them as if it had never existed!
Heheheh. Pathetic Chief God. One day, you'll regret ever handing out this reward.
I'll trust that you're not petty enough to give me the exact same quest again right after exempting it. I'll trust you.
Let's see here.
Wait, that's the last one already?
That's strange.
Considering everything I went through on this quest, this feels like it falls far short.
Hey. Useless, incompetent Chief God.
How many lives did I save while sealing a waking Evil God, and this is all you're giving me?
Sure, you're powerless, but if you're going to make someone do dangerous work, shouldn't you at least pay for it?
Typical of a petty bastard — stingy hands to match.
How did someone like this become the Chief God anyway?
Keep this up and I'm transferring to another deity, you know?
Grumbling under my breath, I read the final message — and stared at it blankly.
During the vacation period, the stat gains you would receive from training will be granted automatically every morning — no training required.
※ Based on your condition before the weakening effect.
※ During this period, training will not increase your stats.
...Huh.
If I'm understanding this right, it boils down to this:
For the duration of the vacation, my stats would rise as if I'd been training — even if I didn't train at all.
In exchange, actually training would raise nothing.
In plain terms, this is just the god telling me to rest during the break.
"I worked you half to death, so take the rest of the time off"? Is that it?
The moment the meaning sank in, I couldn't help snickering — a laugh that just slipped out of me.
Well, well. So he's not entirely without a conscience.
I'd assumed anything Armadi handed out would be some skill or item, but instead he went and gave me nearly two full months of rest.
And not just a simple break — he was promising to make up for everything his negligence had cost me.
Not that I needed it; I was already going to be confined to bed rest until my body recovered. Talk about convenient timing.
That was the end of Armadi's prepared rewards.
There was a faint twinge of disappointment, sure — but the feeling that this is more than enough was far stronger.
Rewards were something I could always wring out of him elsewhere, after all.
Most of all, I was satisfied that there were no weird pranks this time.
If only he behaved like this all the time, my Lord Armadi.
When you show even a hint of caring for your Apostle like this, reverence springs naturally from the heart, you know.
Having finished reviewing my rewards, I was able to lean back against my bed with an easy smile.
All right. If Lord Armadi says rest, then rest I shall — I might as well spend this vacation at a leisurely pace.
Once my body healed, I'd start piecing together my schedule.
First off, there were things I needed to get my hands on, so I'd have to pay a visit to the auction house.
I was supposed to have fun with Joy at the Patran Territory Festival, so I'd need to plan around that too.
And then—
Ding.
Just as I was closing my eyes and mulling over my plans, another message popped up.
What is it now, Lord Armadi?
Is there some reward you failed to deliver?
Or has a new quest been issued?
Either way, just say the word.
Your Apostle will demonstrate the full extent of her power.
Slayer of the Festival
⚔ Objective: Showcase your exceptional abilities at the Patran Territory Festival!
⚔ Win contests at 10 or more festival booths!
🎁 Reward: Increased Reputation
✖ On Failure: Attend the party in Past Lucy's attire
Oh. This was a quest from back when Soul Academy was still a game.
It was issued automatically the moment you participated in the Patran Territory Festival — pointlessly high in difficulty, the kind you needed both luck and raw physical skill just to clear.
It had more of a participation-bonus feel to it, so you never really had to grit your teeth and finish it — but things were different now.
Because now there was a failure penalty that hadn't existed in the game.
"Past Lucy's attire" — that means that, right?
The frilly, flowery, shoulders-and-arms-bare-it-all extravagance of a dress.
Oh, I know it well. I'd seen the dresses old Lucy used to wear around the manor until I was sick of them.
Every time I opened that closet, I had to fight the urge to tear the whole thing to shreds.
And now I'm supposed to wear that to a party hosted by House Patran?
Seriously?
At a party where every single person I know will be gathered?!
No way.
Absolutely not.
It's marginally less revealing than the bunny girl outfit, I'll give it that, but this is pure psychological torture.
That's the spitting image of a princess costume straight out of a shoujo anime!
You're telling me — me, a person who still feels a faint sense of resistance just wearing a school uniform — to put on a dress like that?!
Of course, it would probably look great on me.
Whatever's going on inside, the outside at least is decent enough.
But so what?!
How I come across to other people doesn't matter!
I don't want to!
The moment I stepped onto a public stage wearing that thing, I'd be kicking my blankets off in shame every single night — no, I'd tear them apart entirely!
What, you just need me to succeed?
Fair enough. Succeed, and there's no problem.
My rock-bottom reputation might climb a few rungs, and I'd get through it without incident.
But listen here.
The Slayer of the Festival quest was never a variable I could control.
Even back in the days when I was as sweaty as a speedrunner could possibly be, this quest had a fifty percent failure rate!
And on top of that, it was seven booths in the game — now it's ten!
Bumping up the difficulty of an already hard quest? Isn't this just outright telling me to fail?!
Hey! You perverted, useless piece of—
Just be honest with me.
You just want to watch me suffer in that dress, don't you?!
You want to see me pile up black history right in front of everyone!
You pedophile pervert bastard, AAAAAAH!
What happens if you go even one hour without hiding your degeneracy, huh?!
I was just thanking you and bowing my head for having the decency to spare me — and you still had to pull out something like this?!
Could you not at least let me play the cool hero for a while?!
Huh?! Why do you keep demolishing your Apostle's reverence for you, you trash god?!
...Wait. Is that it?
"If you don't like it, use the exemption ticket"? Is that your angle?!
You vicious, petty little—
You think I'm going to dance to your tune?!
It's a head-on battle, you perverted bastard!
The world gets along just fine without you!
I have the Dice God's blessing, and that's all I need!
I'll win fair and square and blast your wicked little scheme to smithereens!
Got it?! I am Soul Academy's—!
"Haaah. Don't overdo it, I said. What on earth are you yelling at all by yourself?"
The horny Fox's exasperated sigh was the last thing my memory recorded.
The vertigo from all that blood rushing to my head was more than I could bear, and I promptly lost consciousness.
"That girl is Benedict's daughter?"
"Yes, Master."
Having concluded her tearful reunion with Alsaetin and spent the following days trading stories with him, Karia learned an astonishing truth.
The girl who had saved her from the Evil God's curse was that foul-tempered little brat.
Nothing could have been further from her expectations.
She'd heard from Benedict's doting ramblings that his daughter had grown up sweet and lovely, but she'd never imagined the girl possessed that kind of power.
Once she'd recovered from her surprise, Karia asked Alsaetin when she might meet the girl.
Whoever her savior turned out to be, a debt of gratitude was a debt of gratitude — she wanted to thank her in person.
At that question, Alsaetin wore an oddly complicated expression and said it wouldn't be long.
About two days later, the opportunity came, and Karia was granted an audience with Lucy Aln.
Having received permission and stepped inside Lucy's room, Karia laid eyes on the girl sitting up on her bed — and forgot every word she'd prepared.
Bathed in sunlight streaming through the window, the girl possessed the kind of beauty that could steal the language right out of a person's mouth with nothing more than a smile.
An awe-inspiring face, as though some master artisan of the Church had crafted an angel from pure imagination.
It was unmistakable.
This was the same person lingering in the blurred edges of Karia's memory.
Ha. No wonder Benedict can't stop preening.
If I had a daughter like that, I wouldn't be able to keep from bragging either.
I'd have done the same.
Astonished — and, truth be told, on the verge of being genuinely moved — Karia's sentiments lasted all of a single second before they were obliterated.
"Hey there, spinster auntie. Ah — my bad. Got that wrong. Wasn't it cranky old hag? Kuk."