“An Honor to Meet You.”
“Delighted to meet you.”
Ian bowed sincerely, though a faint sense of dissonance lingered. The woman before him seemed utterly ordinary—breathtakingly beautiful like a work of art, but nothing more. Would calling her a plain human beauty be blasphemy?
“I don’t sense much sincerity, but I’ll accept your greeting.”
“Sorry. It’s just... you feel surprisingly approachable, Goddess.”
“Approachable?”
Hrun Dal’s lips curved into a slight smile at Ian’s words. It was uncanny, like a painting come to life. He couldn’t shake the eerie feeling—as if he’d stepped into a museum where the exhibits had started moving.
“Yeah. The other mysteries I’ve met... they were overwhelming just to talk to.”
Mysteries like the drake Longtail had worn down Ian’s mind simply through conversation. Sure, the elixir had toughened him up since then, but who knew? Maybe it was the elixir letting him chat with a goddess now.
“Of course.” Hrun Dal smiled with satisfaction. “I created this space to summon you. It’s tailored for you, so it’s only natural it feels less burdensome.”
She was divine, after all. The lofty figures of the Heavenly Faith hesitated even to approach him out of concern, and Hrun Dal was no different.
“You carry the item I bestowed and reached this sacred place.”
Hrun Dal continued, “I made the space, but you found your way here.”
Ian nodded. He got the gist.
“So, if I take an item infused with the Sky God’s power to the Sky God’s holy site...”
“You’d meet the Sun Keeper.” Hrun Dal shrugged, as if it were obvious. “But what would be the point? The Sun Keeper didn’t summon you.”
“Fair enough.”
The key to visiting the ice palace had been Hrun Dal’s invitation, after all.
“You mentioned an item for me...”
Hrun Dal cut him off. “Eager, like a mortal. But it’s been ages since a living soul visited this place.”
Snap!
She flicked her fingers, and the scene shifted. They were in a banquet hall now, a long table laden with every kind of food imaginable.
“Let’s eat and talk at leisure.”
Mostly roasted meats, wine, and ale. Ian sat, a touch disappointed. No Earth cuisine on a goddess’s table, apparently.
“Can I really eat this?”
“Of course. Do you think I’d serve something inedible?”
Luckily, it was delicious. Hrun Dal watched Ian eat with evident pleasure.
“How is it? Not to your taste?”
“No, it’s great. It’s just...” Ian swallowed a mouthful. “In stories I know, eating food from the underworld traps you there forever.”
“Oh ho.”
Hrun Dal perked up. Quite the intriguing tale.
“Sounds like wisdom from someone who knows the underworld well.”
“Huh?”
“Heh heh. You ate the underworld’s food, Ian. No returning to the human world now.”
Pfft! Ian spat out his wine, choking. Hrun Dal burst into laughter.
“Just kidding! You scaredy-cat!”
“...”
No, when a goddess says it, it sounds real...
Ian finished his meal anyway. This goddess had a quirky streak.
“You’re nothing like last time.”
“What do you mean?”
Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. The more Ian looked, the harder she was to read. Before, her presence had been crushing; now it felt like visiting a cool art school senior’s place.
“I thought you’d be... much colder.”
“Cold? Of course. As the underworld’s warden, I am.”
Hrun Dal said, “Beneath my ice palace lies a prison for subterranean sinners. In the Sun Keeper’s words, it’s hell itself.”
“...”
“Periodically, escaped prisoners from hell surface. My warriors and I subdue them and the demons, sending them back.”
She sang the words lightly. “That’s why I favor strong warriors. Only those mighty enough to face hell’s demons can maintain the world’s order.”
Ian understood. Her role was like a prison warden, keeping hell’s inmates from the living world.
“But that’s merely my duty. My true essence... is closer to an artist.”
Ian nodded, eyeing the walls adorned with paintings. Hrun Dal ruled the underworld fortress watching hell, but she was also the goddess of art and painting.
“I must be cold and cruel to oversee the dead. Yet as an artist, I capture the world’s beauty in vibrant colors.”
Ian smiled at her. “The one before me now... is the goddess of painting.”
“Heh heh. Exactly, mortal.”
Hrun Dal added jokingly, “Pray you never meet me as the warden.”
“...Yeah, I’d prefer that.”
It was a grim joke. Meeting warden Hrun Dal meant Ian was hell-bound.
“So, Ian. Do my paintings please you?”
“Of course.”
Snap! Arcana cards spun around Ian at her finger flick.
“Actually, I’ve seen something like this in my past life.”
“Oh? What was it?”
“Tarot cards...”
Ian gave a quick rundown of what he knew. He wasn’t a fortune teller; tarot was just for New Year’s fortunes or couples’ love readings.
Hrun Dal smiled faintly at his explanation.
“Makes sense. Mysteries aren’t bound by time or space.”
“Really?”
“Ian, did people in your past life believe in souls?”
“...Some did, some didn’t.”
“Same here. Some deny souls exist. But they do.”
Mysteries revealed themselves to believers, and similar beliefs across humans weren’t odd.
“That’s why you handle so many mysteries.”
“...? What do you mean?”
Hrun Dal laughed. “You believe in mysteries more fiercely than anyone.”
“???”
Ian didn’t follow.
“Whether I understand or not... mysteries exist, right?”
“Wrong. They exist because you believe—not the other way around.”
Ian’s jaw dropped. No wonder Arcana 0, The Fool suited him perfectly.
He couldn’t grasp it, but most medieval folk here didn’t even know about mysteries. They’d heard rumors but never imagined contacting them.
Imagine someone saying, “I believe in ghosts! Bought a whiteboard to talk to them!” Would you think, “Strong belief might make ghosts real”? Or “Poor guy, Martians must be bummed”? The latter, overwhelmingly.
Locals were the same. Mysteries existed but were inaccessible, nonexistent to most. Unimaginable, untouchable.
But Ian was different. His Status Window convinced him he’d reincarnated isekai-style. Of course he had cheats—that was the rule!
He firmly believed he wielded mysterious powers. Result? Even Eredis marveled at his mastery of diverse mysteries.
“But I use magic through the Status Window?”
“Status Window?”
Ian explained it, feeling a bit embarrassed. It stemmed from game fantasies—like, ever read Moonlight Sculptor?
Hrun Dal cut in firmly. “I know nothing of this ‘Status Window.’”
“...”
“The Sun Keeper wouldn’t either. You’re the only one who understands that bizarre phenomenon.”
...Even Heavenly Faith devotees didn’t know?
Ian’s mind blanked, replaying a silly comic:
“I suspect you created that ‘Status Window’ yourself, Ian.”
“... Me? I made the Status Window???”
Hrun Dal concluded:
[An Exquisitely Sophisticated System of Self-Hypnosis]
That was Ian’s Status Window. Neither she nor the Sky God knew the concept. Logically, only Ian could have made it.
“Why so shocked?”
Hrun Dal tilted her head at his stunned expression. “Wizards called ‘archmages’ or ‘Lemegeton’ wielded magic in their unique ways.”
She added casually, “Why should you be different?”
Archmage Maronius built his system with his invented language. If he could, so could others. Ian’s ‘Status Window’ was the same—just his form of magic.
“The Sun Keeper’s blessing aids you, undeniably. But you created the ‘Status Window’ concept, Ian.”
“...”
Ian’s head spun; he couldn’t speak. He’d thought the Status Window was his isekai perk. Was he actually a massive delusional mage hallucinating...?
No, too harsh. Better: immense magical talent manifesting his delusions as reality.
Ian didn’t know it, but he truly had innate magical genius...!
Hrun Dal smiled at his daze. An amusing idea struck.
“Want to refine that ‘Status Window’ with my power?”
“Uh... sure?”
Ian mumbled blankly; she took it as yes.
“Let’s infuse your magic into these Arcana cards I drew myself.”