Prologue
Prologue
Mud splattered beneath the carriage wheels. Inside, the old gentleman wiped his glasses. As the city drew nearer, what little sleep he'd managed fled entirely.
The old gentleman lifted the stagecoach's canvas flap slightly. The warmth built up by their body heat escaped in an instant, drawing complaints from the other passengers.
"Hey, it's freezing to death in here!"
"Old man! Close the door!"
"My apologies. I was curious how far we'd come."
The old gentleman poked his face past the canvas and glanced in the direction the carriage was headed.
He could see it. The city of iron.
The newly risen morning air was cold. But fittingly, white mist had risen and wrapped itself around the city.
A city of iron settled amid snowfields. A place that maintained the shape of a "city" only because it bordered the mines.
The northern frontier city, Venelda.
Perhaps because he had come several times before, he could gauge the distance just from the sound of mud being trampled. Was this what experience meant? The old gentleman chuckled softly at his own thought. He closed the canvas door and sat back down among the people.
With nothing to do, he idly looked over his fellow passengers. People heading to a northern frontier city were usually either miners seeking work or those with circumstances who had deliberately sought out such a remote place.
Occasionally, criminals hid among them too.
The old gentleman examined the faces of the drowsy passengers one by one. It was a kind of habit. Having lived as a merchant, he had often needed to size up customers' appearances.
As he diligently scanned the people, the old gentleman's gaze suddenly stopped. He stared at a boy bundled in blankets so thick they were nearly a quilt, as if he were terribly cold.
"...Hm."
The face beneath the pulled-down hood was youthful. It wasn't clean, but it was pretty. A face that would clearly grow into a handsome man.
But strangely, that face was full of discontent. He looked as if he were angry at someone.
Curiosity stirred, the old gentleman quietly shifted seats. He moved to the empty spot beside the boy and spoke.
"How are you?"
A gaze drifted toward him, then immediately fell away. A sulky voice crept out.
"Not well."
"Why is the young master so angry?"
"I wish I were angry all the way to the tips of my hair. Then at least I'd be a little warmer."
Well, now.
The boy had quite an amusing way with words.
The old gentleman smiled. He took a thermos from his coat and poured warm water into the cap.
The boy's eyes sparkled at the steam scattering into the air.
"You're a good person, sir!"
"This much is nothing. It'll be hot, so drink carefully. Anyway... what brings the young master to this frontier city?"
"Living is nothing special. I came to survive."
"People don't come all the way north just to survive. Did you come looking for mining work?"
"Well... what brings you to that cold city, sir?"
The boy smoothly changed the subject. His intent was obvious, but the old gentleman readily played along.
"I came to inspect the condition of the iron produced in Venelda."
"Couldn't you send someone?"
"That's true as well... but wouldn't seeing it with my own eyes put my mind at ease?"
"That's true too. There's no creature that loves stabbing people in the back more than people."
Bold, and cheeky to boot.
The old gentleman idly stroked his mustache. He laughed softly.
"The young master has a most amusing way with words."
"...Did I breach etiquette?"
"Hardly. Isn't conversation during a journey like a snack served alongside coffee? This doesn't seem the place to quibble over etiquette."
The boy tilted his tea and gave it a short blow, sending the steam drifting away.
"...You must be a wealthy businessman, sir?"
"Just a wandering merchant. I can barely make ends meet."
"The ornaments you're wearing look far too expensive for that."
Well, now. He has a sharp eye too.
The old gentleman casually revealed his watch. But the boy merely glanced at it and immediately looked away.
No greed for wealth, then. His curiosity only deepened.
"I believe there are times when who sells an item matters more than what item is sold."
"That's true. Buying something from a rich man feels much better than buying from a beggar."
"If the young master takes up mining work, we may meet again."
"Unfortunately, I don't think that will happen. My goal isn't the mines."
"If you're not aiming to be a miner... is there another reason you came all the way to Venelda?"
"With nothing in it for me?"
"Hasn't something suitable already gone into that mouth of yours?"
"Come on. You look rich. Give me just a little more."
The old gentleman let out a small laugh. He didn't covet expensive things, yet he craved little things.
The old gentleman took out his wallet. He dropped a few coins into the small hand.
"Sufficient?"
"Imperial silver... five thousand Talent. Hm. That's decent. I can cover a meal with this."
The boy casually rolled up his sleeve. At the vivid pattern revealed between the blankets, the old gentleman furrowed his brow.
Strange characters resembling a tattoo. At a glance, they looked like dark-red scribbles.
He'd seen it somewhere before...
Where?
"...Don't tell me... you've come looking for the Church of Ra?"
"That's right."
Oh dear.
Good heavens.
Poor young thing.
The old gentleman clicked his tongue. He considered adding a few words of condolence, then held back. He couldn't shatter a child's dream with the city already so close.
The Church of Ra. Also called the Sun God Church.
A religious group serving the Sun God Ra.
But while it might have been different in the past, the standing of the various "churches" had now diminished. The churches that had once dominated the continent decades ago had completely fallen from grace.
The advancement of magic. And the resulting decline in the standing of the "gods."
Things once called miracles and the like could now be resolved with magic alone. Without laboriously seeking out a church, most wounds could be treated with magic and medicine.
The enhancement of physical abilities through blessings had also been overtaken by magic, and the subjugation of undead under the name of purification had been overtaken by holy magic imitating the Holy Arts. Priests, once symbols of nobility, lost their voices, and paladins, once symbols of unyielding conviction, were endlessly pushed aside by knights equipped with artifacts.
A chicken rib.
Something worthless yet hard to discard.
There was a reason the Empire had abandoned the churches. This was now the age of humanity.
The gods effectively had no place to stand. Human faith remained, but well...
Faith simply wasn't precious enough for people to offer money for it. Powerful humans could do more than the gods could.
"...Is the young master going to join the Church of Ra?"
"As you can see, I've received a Sacred Mark, so I have no choice."
"I won't stop you... but I'd like to offer a few pieces of advice. If you'd rather not, I won't."
"I'm curious. Please do."
The old gentleman cleared his throat briefly.
"The Church of Ra is poorer than you might think. If you join, you'll likely grow accustomed to going hungry."
"Don't the faithful donate?"
"As you know... isn't the mood in the Empire grim? It's an age of grasping the sword before your eyes rather than seeking faith. If people have money to donate, it's safer to hire a swordsman with it. The church only keeps operating thanks to a small number of donations... and I've heard even those aren't much."
"Why?"
"When humans rose above the gods, the gods withdrew their attention from the earth. Naturally, the radiance that once shone also vanished. I've heard that when the divinity was withdrawn, the priests' power weakened as well. They say they can't even heal the sick as well as a quack doctor now."
"Well... I know that, but... still, to that extent..."
"I'd like to say it's a joke, but unfortunately I can't. The churches are a setting sun. People come to believe more firmly in what they can see than what they cannot. Magic and the sword. This is now an age of violence. It's safe to say the gods have no place to stand."
It wasn't for nothing that young people screamed themselves hoarse crying "Academy, Academy." Building power through education and looking down on those below had become the norm.
An age where those with power possess everything. Along with the wars breaking out on the Empire's frontiers, an age had come where fists were faster than words.
And within that, there was no place for "religion."
"I think it's admirable that you've received a god's call... but if you want to feed yourself and live doing what you enjoy, you'd be better off finding work as a miner. And the Sun God Church in Venelda is... no. You'd better see that for yourself."
"What is it?"
"In the first place, why does the young master want to enter the church? If it's merely because of a single Sacred Mark, I'd like to dissuade you."
"Because it seems like the only way I can live like a 'human being.'"
The boy sighed, his expression caught somewhere between a smile and tears.
"It's not by choice. It's by circumstance. I didn't know things would turn out this way either."
. . .
'Glory Fantasia.'
One of countless roguelike RPG games.
That game, true to its generic name, was one of the trash games. Everything else about it was normal—except for one thing.
It was a bizarre game branded a "shitty game" solely because of its notorious difficulty. Very few people had ever played it to the end, and it was so difficult that not one of them had completed all its achievements.
But I, damn it all, had styled myself as a collector of trash games.
I collected the game's achievements day and night. With the story changing every time you started, I'd even tear up and say that if only the difficulty were lower, it wouldn't have earned the "trash game" title.
But who was it that said hard work always paid off?
In the end, I did it. I got what I wanted and completed every achievement in the game—something no one else had ever managed.
But I didn't know.
That it was a one-way road leading to the gates of hell.
[Zahard Balton] [Level: 1]
[Race: Human] [Class: Apostle of the Sun God]
[Class Unique Skills]
-Sun God's Love: Sun-God-related skills you possess grow rapidly.
-Sun God's Grace: Your Sacred Power recovers rapidly.
-Sun God's Blessing: You can handle the Sun God's Sacred Relics without risk.
-Sun God's Prayer: You are immune to mental corruption.
[Possessed Skills]
-Sacred Mark (F): Grants very slight resistance to all Demonic Force. A vessel capable of holding divinity.
-Divinity (F): Can faintly draw upon the Sun God's divinity.
-Healing (F): Slowly heals minor scratches.
-Blessing (F): Mood improves slightly.
-Crown of Ash (EX): Offering tribute greatly increases the effectiveness of Sun-God-related skills.
A character I made myself. The Sun God's priest, the highest-difficulty class of all.
The only fortunate thing... was that one of the perks had been transferred over intact.
"...Ha."
I'd entered.
Into this damn game. Without even knowing why!
"Why, of all things... this character...?"
Even with the perk, of all the many, many classes, why did it have to be the Apostle of the Sun God?
It was as if a path of thorns had been laid out before my eyes. If only it had been some other combat class, I wouldn't have been this despairing.
The world of Glory Fantasia wasn't much different from any other fantasy setting. A fantastical place where magic ran rampant, sword-wielders overflowed, and magical beasts and monsters swarmed.
But one thing Glory Fantasia consistently stuck to was a setting where the churches were persecuted. It was a world full of people who had lost the gods' power and merely played at being "priests."
A world where the gods' standing had collapsed, pushed aside by magic.
Among priests, the genuine ones were rare enough to count on one hand, and even they weren't in the Empire's center. Theology now remained only as a simple academic discipline, and the churches were factions in name only.
Even at the Academy in the Empire's heart, where Hidden Pieces were scattered everywhere, the Theology Research Department was barely maintaining its name. The setting was that a small number of ordained priests gathered from various churches studied there while facing discrimination.
In short, I had stepped on a landmine.
In other words, I'd been born into the worst of the worst classes.
"......."
The Church of the Sun God Ra was no different. You could tell just from the fact that it was located in the northern city of Venelda from the very start.
A church already ruined. A group where some priests, lacking money, went out begging under the guise of pilgrimage.
That old gentleman from earlier was right.
It was a group where, the moment you entered, you'd have to start thinking about how not to starve.
But what could I do?
As long as my class was the Apostle of the Sun God, this was the only way to make a proper living in this harsh world...!
Let's just get there first. Once I arrive, a way to survive will present itself somehow. Fortunately, the broad framework of the information I knew shouldn't have changed.
If my predictions proved correct, I might even be able to live better than before.
I pulled my collar tight. I staggered forward into the cold winter, stretching out my legs.
If it was just about joining the church, I could have done it at another branch. But there was a reason I'd forced myself all the way to Venelda.
To obtain the Hidden Piece hidden in Venelda, and to join the church headquarters directly to receive proper training and build up my strength.
And besides, the church headquarters had to be much better than a branch. I could stay there without going nearly as hungry.
My stomach growled. I gritted my teeth and endured.
I had spent all my initial funds while traveling to the Church of Ra's headquarters. All that remained was the five thousand Talent I'd received from the old gentleman earlier.
It seemed best to save this money in case of unforeseen circumstances. I asked people for directions to the church headquarters, but the answers that came back were utterly bleak.
"The Sun God's church?"
"...Why would you go looking for those damn things?"
"If you mean that beggar group, they're over that way."
"Turn the corner at that building. They're probably on the outskirts of the city."
"Going out of your way to find that trash... did they swindle money out of you or something?"
I knew. I knew they were obscure. I knew they were treated as little more than extras.
But!
But still!
There's such a thing as limits! Damn god!
I stood before a dilapidated abandoned building. A wide building wearing the mask of a church. I climbed over an iron gate that wouldn't close and stood before a creaking door. The bottom of the door was completely gone. Even with the wind seeping in, a single piece of cloth patched over it was all there was.
No warmth flowed out, only cold wind. I didn't know about anything else, but I understood one thing.
It's going to be cold inside too. Fuck.
"...Hello?"
I knocked lightly and took the first step into my turbulent fantasy life.
The door opened and a gaunt face slipped out. Seeing my face, the person fumbled through their pockets.
"...I'm sorry."
What the old person held out was a single piece of candy.
"This is all I have right now."
"No. I, um."
I accepted the candy for now.
"I came to join the church."
"...What?"
I casually showed the Sun God's Sacred Mark on the back of my hand. Proof that I had been chosen by the Sun God. The elder blinked.
"The Sun God's... Sacred Mark... one acknowledged by Ra... but..."
The old person's sigh was deep. It seemed to speak for my own feelings as well.
"Why did you come to a barren branch in a frontier city... instead of the church headquarters?"
...Wait.
Not the church headquarters?