Erin was sore. Muscles he didn’t know he owned screamed at him like banshees. His shoulder where he had been injured was the worst of all. Erin had no explanation for why it hadn’t hurt before if it was going to hurt now, but he quickly decided the question was irrelevant. It did hurt now, and he had to deal with it. Erin groaned, forcing himself into a sitting position through sheer willpower. Looking around himself blearily, Erin quickly confirmed that he was in his room at the inn. Though he had had some concerns after Mal’s warning, he was grateful to find that Amelia hadn’t snuck into his room in the night to rob him. Erin realized he was parched, and opened his storage space to drink the water that was still held inside.

Once he had drunk the contents, Erin investigated his upgraded storage space. Pouring in some newly created water, Erin confirmed that there was now about an extra fist’s worth of space inside his storage. Thinking of a further experiment, Erin poured several points of divinity into the stored water. He couldn’t see any visible difference, but when he tried drinking it, all of his aches began to quickly fade.

Satisfied with the result, he filled it to the brim with water again, and closed the storage. Erin briefly considered taking the day to grind skills before he was forced to seek out a dungeon, but the rumbling of his stomach quickly quelled that notion. Glancing at his pocket, Erin sighed when he realized he only had three Quinns left. Enough to either buy one small meal and a night at the inn, or he could buy some of the supplies he would need for his trip to the beginners dungeon.

Based on the reaction the merchant had had toward his water sale, Erin thought it was best not to rely too heavily on water sales as a means of income. Especially since he didn’t know the local laws in that regard. As he searched for a good place to buy travel rations, Erin saw a man standing in the center of the road; yelling at the passerby.

“Repent! Almera has given us this drought as punishment to those who would infringe on her divine authority over creation! But the drought is not only punishment! It is salvation! By cleansing the weakness of her flock, Almera proves she is a loving mother to us all!”

Erin stepped in then, interrupting the preacher. “Excuse me, do you know where the temple is? I’d like to go pray for salvation.”

The fact that he meant that in a literal sense sent a flash of amusement through Erin’s psyche. After all, the preacher had reminded him that he could literally start a conversation with the goddess at any temple. Given his situation, he definitely needed advice on what to do next so that he wouldn’t get himself killed, or exposed. Thus, salvation.

“Oh hello young man. Yes, we have a small shrine to Almera in that building there.” The priest pointed to the building directly behind him.

“Don’t encourage the old loon!” A passerby called at Erin. Erin ignored the jeer as he thanked the priest, and went inside.

The interior of the building was simple. The floor was hard-packed dirt, while the building was constructed from the simple clay that seemed to be the hallmark of low-class construction. In the corner of the room was another bed of dead grass and a sheet. In the exact center of the room was a crude statue made of clay. Erin cringed at the poor workmanship of the statue’s dead-eyed, disfigured face, but forced himself to kneel in front of it; clasping his hands in supplication.

“Almera, I pray for guidance.” Erin said out loud.

“You can pray silently, I will hear you either way.” Almera responded cheerfully in his head.

“Good to know. Wouldn’t want the doomsday guy out there to think I’m crazy.” Erin laughed internally.

“I know how you feel, but be kind to him. He means well. More importantly, I need you to understand how much trouble you’ve created for yourself.” She replied sternly.

Erin blinked in surprise. “Wait, what did I do?”

Almera’s normal beatific presentation cracked for a moment with audible irritation. “You somehow acquired divinity. Do you know what we call mortal beings that acquire divinity without permission? We call them demon lords. Even now, my fellow gods are mobilizing the anti-demon task force to kill you. There’s nothing I can do to stop it, they outrank me.”

Erin barely stopped himself from shouting verbally. “Wait, how is this my fault? I didn’t ask for it, it just popped up when you sent me here.”

Almera sighed. “Heroes are supposed to acquire and learn skills more easily, but I knew I had the sensitivity set too high.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Can you take it back? Remove the skill? It’s been really helpful, but I’d rather not get ganked by some angelic hit squad.” Erin had a feeling he knew the answer, but felt he had to ask.

“Unfortunately, skills are linked to your soul. We can play around with unattached souls to some extent, but we can’t touch a soul that’s inside a vessel. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way.” Erin could hear the despair in Almera’s voice.

Erin sighed. It was hard to stay mad at Almera when she was so clearly affected by the situation. “Ok, so what do I do now? What do I need to watch out for?”

“The gods will summon humans as heroes to attack you. At first, they will be summoned as individuals, but if you defeat a few of them, then parties of up to four will be the next step. If you survive several of those, then a hero will be summoned as a demi-god. After that… I’m not sure. No demon lord has ever survived the demi-god summon. They’re like those characters in books that start out with unfair levels of power. As for what you do, you basically have two options. Since you’re not exactly a traditional demon lord, you have the option of staying on the run. Travel from town to town visiting dungeons, and never staying in one place long enough to be found by the hero. The other option is to build a defensive position. Be it a small city, or a fortress. Even just a farming village. Someplace you can defend, and gather others who are willing to fight for you.”

Erin wasn’t sure which of the two options he preferred, so he shelved the decision for the time being. “Under the circumstances, do you still expect me to work on fixing your world?”

Erin felt the first hint of true rage Almera had ever expressed. “If you want my help with the heroes, then you will. I may have sympathy for your situation, but my people come first. Remember that as long as you are alive, I can’t summon another hero to work on the problem.”

Erin sighed. He had been worried she would say something along those lines. “Fine, I’ll keep working on saving your world. Before I go though, do you have any advice for what I should be doing right now? I need to make enough money to get travel supplies for the dungeon.”

Almera was silent for a moment before she responded. “Rather than that, I would suggest you buy crop seeds. Once you reach your destination, you can use your divinity to grow them. It should be far more efficient to acquire food that way, rather than buying premade food.”

Erin had to admit it was a good idea. “Alright, thank you for your help.”

Without a response, Erin felt the connection to the goddess disappear. Erin stood, and walked out of the shrine building in a daze, mind whirling as he processed and planned. His first day and a half in the world of Almenia had been an eye-opening experience. Though he had known intellectually that the world was suffering extreme hardship, he hadn’t been prepared for the level of difficulty he himself would experience. Erin knew that if he was going to survive, he needed to think long-term.

“I need to either run or build.” He muttered. “Run or build. Running would be the easy road to stay alive, but I wouldn’t make much progress on helping with the water problem. Almera would probably get fed up at some point and tell the heroes where to find me.” Having seen the cracks in her beatific facade during their conversation, he now had much less faith in her willingness to help him in the long run. “If I build, then what do I need?”

Erin was frustrated by the lack of materials to record his thoughts, and make some sense of them. Wishing the stat window had more options, he was struck by an inspiration, and poured divinity into it. Though there was no visual representation of the battle he fought, he could feel the resistance as the system opposed the change he was trying to implement. Finally, after five minutes, and ten points of divinity, Erin won the fight.

Gleefully, Erin opened his new window, and began filling in text with his mind. The fact that he had some control over the system itself was somewhat reassuring for his chances of survival. With that feeling in mind, Erin recorded every passing thought with any semblance of value. After half an hour had passed, he felt he had settled on his course of action.

Everything boiled down to the fact that merely surviving wasn’t enough. In games of strategy, and empire-building, Erin had always been the builder, not the conqueror. While he was very aware that this wasn’t a game, that fact didn’t change his outlook. If he was going to be forced into this unwinnable scenario, then he was going to build something in the process.

Erin was so caught up in ruminating on his philosophical life choices that he almost bumped into a passing merchant. Apologizing to the man, Erin realized he had arrived at the small bazaar where he had bought his jug. Looking around, Erin found a fruit seller, and approached him.

“Excuse me, I’m wondering if you can tell me where I might find seeds? I’m thinking of starting a small farm.” He asked the merchant.

The merchant shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t imagine where you would buy something like that. It’s a fools errand anyway if you ask me. Farming is a poor business to be in.”

“Says the guy selling fruits.” Erin replied dryly.

The merchant held his hands out to his sides, palms up. “Someone has to.”

“Well what about the fruits? Are there seeds inside those?”

The merchant nodded.“Now that you mention it, I think there are.”

Erin smiled. “In that case, how many can I get for two Quinn?”

Now the proud owner of ten cactus fruits that had replaced the water in his storage, Erin asked the adventurers in the dungeon line for directions to the nearest beginner dungeon. Applying divine coding to his stat page allowed him to generate a map function, though it costed him nearly all of his divinity. This had the advantage of increasing his divinity skill by a point, and divine coding skills by two points. Armed with a crude map of the town, and a map marker set at a vague location in the fog of war, Erin exited the city gates.