Distorted Truth

Then the rest of the party came into view.

Serengeti was the first to snort a quiet laugh.

"That Demigod really went and cooked up a trial like this. We might clear it even faster than I expected."

She scoffed as if it were nothing at all. After all, this floor would take less than five minutes if they simply answered the questions.

"Compared to its reputation, it certainly is…"

"…"

Isaac and Isabella both wore calm expressions. All they had to do was ask one question each. Surely no one had written anything too awkward to answer.

Then a slender woman's voice rang in their ears.

Serengeti looked at me. Did she think I was the one who had asked that?

"Of course I love him truly."

A faint flush of embarrassment colored her answer. Between her words and her manner, there was no room for doubt.

Isaac's eyes wavered. He clearly had never imagined anyone had seen him weeping so pitifully. It was a little uncomfortable, but not something he couldn't answer.

"…Lord Randolph erased my bad karma. My karma score was so high that children would never come near me. That day, a child approached and asked why I was crying, and I only cried harder."

He offered an even more detailed answer than necessary. This was a party dungeon, and Isaac understood well how vital mutual trust was here. The place was infamous, and as someone who had traveled the entire continent, he had heard countless stories about it.

Which city was she from?

Isabella glanced back and forth between Isaac and Serengeti. At the very least, she seemed certain it wasn't me. I was the one who had first met her and brought her along, so if anyone was asking about her origins, it had to be Isaac or Serengeti.

"…The desert city. Faisalmer."

The worst possible starting point. The infamous desert city of Faisalmer. Ruled by a queen, it was a place every continental traveler preferred to avoid. Plenty of people looked at desert-city natives through a tinted lens.

But Isabella stood proud. Her skin tone was different from the people of the desert cities to begin with, and she had no idea how the rest of the continent regarded Faisalmer.

And so the first three questions ended. Now it was my turn.

The questions so far had been thoroughly ordinary — the sort anyone might wonder and ask. There was no way to know who had put which question to whom, but it seemed everyone had chosen something moderate out of consideration for the others.

In that case, the question assigned to me was likely nothing special either.

Game changer.

…Was I a Star Seeker?

I was inwardly rattled the moment I saw the question. Who had asked this? Because someone didn't believe I was a Star Seeker? Or because they did believe it, and had asked as a matter of course?

Star Seeker.

What was a Star Seeker? One who guided the stars to those qualified to possess them. Any gamer who reached level 10 with all stats at 100 had to find a Star Seeker to learn a star's location.

In that sense, I was not a Star Seeker. I had never been one from the start. It was nothing more than a lie I had spat out for my own survival and to wriggle free of a bad situation.

But if I answered no, I would be admitting the lie. It would be no different from saying I had deceived them all from the beginning. At the very least, Isabella and Isaac would take a heavy blow.

I approached both of them claiming to be a Star Seeker from the start.

A seeker of stars. One who believed in stars and worshipped them. The unknown always loomed larger. That mystery and sanctity had been a fine mask to hide behind. With a single claim of being a Star Seeker, Isabella had spared my life, and Isaac had no choice but to regard me as something extraordinary and treat me with deference.

Without that lie, I would already be dead. Isabella would have killed me with her own hands the moment we met.

Even if it was a lie spoken to survive…

I was the one who had kept upholding it. I thought back to the moment we entered the Chamber of Truth. …By the Oath, answer only with truth. Signing that Truth Oath carved into heart and soul had been my own will.

"I—"

But no matter which answer I gave, the truth would come out. In that case, better to speak the facts. A lie would fail the challenge and get me expelled. Retries were impossible, so speaking the truth and smoothing things over afterward might be better — at least then I could keep challenging.

"Am a Star—"

If I said I was not a Star Seeker, restoring trust once broken would not be easy. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠They might carry the knowledge that I had lied to them for the rest of their lives. Doubt, once sprouted, grew a hundredfold, a thousandfold, tens of thousands of times, and ate away at the bond between people.

So I spoke the facts.

"I am."

…That I was a Star Seeker.

In the literal meaning of the words: one who had realized the stars. One who knew what a star was. One who had researched the stars more deeply than anyone and been chosen by them for it. Remade by the goddess as a Star Guardian — if I was not a Star Seeker, then who was?

I felt a quiet relief. And then I understood.

The Demigod distorted the questions.

Throughout the questioning I had been watching everyone's faces with meticulous care. With my Observational Gift, focusing let me catch even the movement of a single fine hair, and I read their emotions from their expressions and the tremors in them. The subtle shifts that appeared with each question.

The questions are right, but the tone is different.

The first question to Serengeti — "Do you truly love Hudson?" — was something I had written, yes. Correct, but different.

I never used the word "truly."

Do you love Hudson? Do you truly love Hudson? The tone, the weight — completely different. The Demigod was twisting the questions little by little, making them harder to answer cleanly.

But there was no need to give a correct answer to a distorted question. Whether I was a Star Seeker by the dictionary definition, or by the definition the asker held in their mind, was for each person to decide on their own.

Meet distortion with distortion.

The old me would have chosen to answer that I was not a Star Seeker. Back then, this world had been nothing more than a "game" to me — a world of data and numbers where everything was already fixed. But this place was reality. A real world where emotions lived and breathed, where people set off chemical reactions in one another.

And truth was something that interacted. If people believed something was true together, it became true. Besides, it wasn't exactly wrong, was it? Answer a distorted question with a distorted answer, and that was that.

Now I understand why the Truth Oath forbids any discussion of the questions whatsoever.

No discussion. That ban covered not only words, but even the sharing of expressions. But there had been no discussion. I had simply watched and figured it out on my own — their faces. Isaac, Isabella, Serengeti. They never hid their expressions in front of me.

"Mm."

Hearing my answer, everyone nodded as if it were only natural. They had believed from the start. Because they had never doubted, my answer was true. It was nothing like the old clear attempts, when everyone had walked in hiding their intentions.

A bond of trust. That was not something the Demigod's petty tricks could easily break.

Once I grasped the Demigod's intent in distorting the questions, everything after that was far too easy. There was no need to panic, no need to doubt.

We cleared it quickly and stepped onto the next floor, and the world went dark again. Then a signpost appeared before me.

Three domains required for blocking the entrance: ranged attacker, shield-bearer, healer. Three emblems floated before my eyes as if telling me to pick one — an arrow mark, a shield mark, and a field where green energy drifted and bobbed.

No time for discussion, then.

This was a floor where you had to know each other's capabilities and choices. If even one role was missing or overfilled, the clear would fail.

Serengeti will pick shield-bearer.

She had already been assigned that role once on the first floor. With stats locked, she would have a clear grasp of her own usefulness.

The rest is the hard part.

I stroked my chin. If I took ranged attacker the way I had on the first floor, who would be the healer? Isaac, Isabella — would those two take shield-bearer and healer? Then should I take healer instead? Isaac was especially specialized in offense. He might take ranged attacker.

Come to think of it, I've never shown them that I use ranged weapons.

My brow furrowed on its own. What each person did best. You had to understand your party members' traits well enough to choose without overlapping.

When the darkness lifted, we were on a hilltop.

Block the Entrance. Down on the ground below were what looked like easily a thousand Bomb Bugs. Bomb Bugs were monsters shaped like pill bugs that exploded on contact. The blast itself was small, but they carried a powerful acid that melted flesh on touch. The reason two shield-bearers were needed was to hold off those explosions.

"Shield-bearers, raise your shields and block the entrance."

Fortunately, there were two shield-bearers.

"Yes!"

A firm nod.

Serengeti and Isabella. The two of them moved in sync, raising their shields to seal the hill's entrance.

"Ranged attacker, eliminate any Bomb Bugs that come over the shields."

"Yes."

The ranged attacker was Isaac.

I was the healer, of course.

The reason I had chosen healer was simple. The ones who could watch the situation from the rear and issue orders were either the ranged attacker or the healer, and no matter how I thought about it, Isaac was going to take ranged attacker. He had never seen me use a ranged weapon to begin with. Isabella had given me a slight pause, but she was not the "commander" type. She was not suited to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠holding the rear in a commander's role, so I had figured she would take shield-bearer.

And that read of mine had been exactly right.

"They're coming!"

A narrow alley. Bomb Bugs began bouncing and rolling their way up. Each was no bigger than an adult's fist, but the sight of them was overwhelming.

Up to here, this is the textbook approach.

It was proceeding exactly by the book. Role assignment, fixed positions, preparation — all perfect.

I have no intention of playing the game as written.

But I had not the slightest intention of moving according to the Demigod's design. I wrung my brain dry. A way to flip this situation. A move that could break the board he had built!

"Serengeti. Give me your shield."

"Pardon?"

She looked at me as if to ask what on earth that was supposed to mean.

"When I give the signal, switch places with me."

"Will you be all right?"

"I'll do better than you, who has never trained in shield arts. The moment I raise my right hand, switch positions at once. After that, everyone follows my orders."

"But this shield has usage conditions."

"It's fine."

The shield's usage conditions. I had already figured them out. I held out my hand, and Serengeti obediently passed the shield over.

A message saying I could not grip the shield. But the moment I took hold of it, the story changed.

Choosing shield-bearer created something called Bomb Bug Shield Proficiency. Originally only someone who had it could equip the shield, but Weapon Master was a Hidden Trait that raised proficiency with every piece of equipment to Level 5. A trait that turned even a weapon you were gripping for the first time into something a "skilled user" could wield. On top of that, the +1 level from Dexterity.

Level 6 in total. As the proficiency rose, strength flooded into the hand gripping the shield of its own accord.