Faith.

Faith was… well, faith was a complicated matter…

I wouldn’t claim to be a religious person, and you should take what I had to say with a grain of salt. Nevertheless, I used to visit the church with my parents every Sunday for as long as I could remember, so perhaps my experience regarding this was already in the top percentage compared to my fellow countrymen.

… Then again, the only reason I continued to do so after graduation was to avoid the soul-sucking evil known as “weekends overtime”, all while getting the rest of my days off…

… Plus, mom mostly came over to lament about how she should never have left the Queen, and how the “Land of Freedom” turned out to be “Land of free Debt”…

… Dad… well, he was only there for the handouts, and more than once had I heard him confess how becoming a cowboy might have been better than ending up as a starving dreamer…

That was not mentioning how the place itself was really weird… Like, seriously! Why did a church need to be in the middle of some faraway forest, attended by people cloaked in shady hoods, and having blood red letters written on top of its altar that was surrounded by… an upside-down pentagram… with lots of animal heads placed on each side…

…

Holy shit it was a cult…

In hindsight, maybe a church with the name “Doomed-days Preppers” should have raised some alarm bells…

Uh…

Okayyy… Not the best example, I’ll admit… So, uhm… let’s… let’s try this again!

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Ahem!

Faith.

Faith was a fickle matter – one that I could never claim to have a full understanding of.

Thus, instead of using old, personal examples that might or might not suggest that I was a cultist before I was even born, I would like to talk about my experience ever since getting kidnapped to this fantasy world instead.

Firstly, we needed to address an elephant in the room.

After all, there was an obvious difference that would make religions from a realm seeped in magic stand out compared to ones from that boring, ordinary chunk of earth that you and I both knew so well.

Miracles.

Divine interventions.

Actual evidence of deities who once walked the lands…

All of these had become the cornerstones that went on to shape all types of faiths in this world. From the Golden Sun’s teachings in the empire or the Endless paths revered by all mistwalkers in the east, to unorthodox rites so many cults loved to dabble with… a simple glance alone would reveal much about the idolized divinities in question, as well as the reason why people worshiped them in the first place.

Case in point, the Goddess of War.

Quite on the nose, amirite?

Right off the bat, we had the obvious stuff - namely buffs and blessings that would grant people superhuman strengths.

Then, the actual bread and butter that had become the Golden Empire’s trump card to survive this apocalypse - aka the healing factor that would allow anyone, or anything, to regenerate or even get back up from the brink of death.

As a side note, that fine print, “getting back up from the brink of death”, was also the reason why followers of the Golden Sun often became so zealous.

Want to have your fever go away? Just believe in the Goddess!

Lost some limbs? Pray with all your heart and they will grow back in a jiffy!

Old age bothers you? A devout worshiper can live for centuries without any fear of death!

In fact, even if you get obliterated or eaten? Just hold onto your faith and know that resurrection will be possible from the remains!

Ugh…

That last one in particular still bothered me on a whole different level.

Every time I had to watch a beast of burden get butchered to the bones – yet continued clinging onto the belief that it hadn’t died and could still be “resurrected”… Only for the slaughter to resume again and again…

… Such an image alone easily sent shivers of chill down my spine.

Anyway.

My point was that, faith and fanaticism usually went hand in hand, especially in a world where the existence of gods and whatnot could be easily proven.

But!

But but but.

What would happen when a deity simply... perished?

What would happen to one’s faith then?

The miracles could still be called upon, so it was proof that the god – or Goddess – in question wasn’t truly dead, right?

And, since the shepherd would one day return, her most pious sheepdogs should simply carry on with their tasks like usual, right?

Even if, hypothetically… the world’s very magic started dying off, causing miracles to slowly dwindle in turn, these loyal stewards still shouldn’t doubt the prophesied Faithful Reunion, should they?

Worse yet, if strange, alien dungeons could provide… things to restore magic, yet even when a bunch of these things still couldn’t bring back a fraction of true miracles that you once knew…

Such realizations could drive even a pious archpriest to the brink of despair, wouldn’t you agree?

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“Someone… Someone heal him!”

“His Eminence is not waking up!!!”

“... He must have used his own aura to invoke the benediction of guardian angel back then, not to mention the forbidden unity just now...”

“But... wasn’t the benediction only possible thanks to the Goddess’ return...? She’s already back with us... That’s why it was even possible for a benediction to work... She has to be... right...?”

“EVERYONE! PLEASE STEP ASIDE!”

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There was something I would like to confess.

Before you asked, yes, perhaps I could have handled this mess better.

Innocent thralls got turned into “power snacks” by my “most loyal followers”. And, even if all of them got resurrected later once my scheme worked, their blood would still be on my hands. This, I couldn’t deny.

Plus, by letting such a harebrained attempt of a coup happen instead of stomping down on it when rumors were still floating around, I essentially worsened whatever goodwill remained between wildkins and the people of Folen Frontier.

In fact, it wouldn’t be a surprise if all wildkins got called “beastmen” at this point.

That said...

Archpriest Kyne Olde Mann.

He was a kind old man, who didn’t deserve any of this.

It was scummy of me to use his kindness to my advantage. It was scummy of me to count on the fact that he would hold back his followers and avoid bloodshed.

It was scummy of me, when I caused so much public panic that the archpriest was forced to invoke a forbidden miracle and restore order.

It was scummy of me, especially when I was ready to repeat such an act, again and again, until said despondent preacher fainted from his dwindling faith.

… Perhaps, it was a silver lining that he was out cold right after the first use of unity.

…

I confessed that I regretted nothing.

If put back in the past, I would make the same choices all over again.

It is for the best…

The Goddess wasn’t coming back. A single glance at her name already told me that much.

Not ripping off the bandage right today would just make the bastard that orchestrated this entire clusterfuck to cause another conflict later. In fact, I doubted that snake had actually given up, even now.

This was the darkest hour, when darkness was closing in on us.

Folen Frontier desperately needed a ray of hope to believe in, and I could provide them with such.

A pair of siblings who are perfection incarnated, capable of stopping a riot without bloodshed, then building a rapport with the masses by bringing their beloved archpriest back from the brink.

All of which are glorious feats.

… None of which I can actually accomplish.

With a shake of the head, my mind once again drifted towards a miraculous direction – where one brilliant glow was sparkling in the air.

“How flashy…”

A brief glance alone revealed that Mary Stew was now healing the downed archpriest, drawing gasps of awe from friends and foes alike.

Inspiring, no?

After all, an “ordinary” girl, who had no talent or experience at invoking miracles, could accomplish what all other priests and priestesses were supposed to be good at...

I turned towards Gary Stool.

Right now, he might be looking at his sister with pride and amazement - much like everyone else. However, I would bet my freaking bacon that said wonder boy was very much capable of the same feat if push ever came to shove.

Such a thought was echoed among the mass, even from those who had barely scratched the surface of these siblings’ capabilities.

“Heh...”

Mary Stew and Gary Stool – rising stars, lowborns extraordinaire, idols for boys and girls everywhere.

If they can do it, so can you!!!

That was the image most citizens had of these duo - poster children of the Fantasian dream, as well as a pair of self-made man and woman who managed to soar far above.

That’s right...

Folen Frontier’s blinding rays of hope – whose meteoric rise to fame was carefully manufactured by yours truly – were at last a symbol of hope that survivors could rally behind.

All which remained was one last push before everything came into place.

And, of course, it was only proper that a starter villain be the one to initiate two legends’ career...

[ | ]

“A miracle... This is a true miracle! There is no doubt that we have been blessed by the Golden Sun on this very day!!!”

“Indeed! No one from the priesthood managed to heal His Eminence, yet that lass simply waved her hand and-”

“Just her smile alone restores my faith... Oh great Goddess... Thank you for sending us this angel-”

“Uhm... Am I the only one wondering why the archpriest fainted in the first pla-”

The town square exploded into thunderous applause at the sight of a young maiden helping an archpriest up. Here, there, everywhere! Words of praise and choruses of cheers filled the air, showering the heroine with utmost adoration as she sparkled from a miraculous work well done.

Yet, amidst this festive mood, a certain someone couldn’t help but feel wary.

“Something’s not right... This feeling... What could be giving me such a fright?”

With his hair stood on end and his stools poised on edge, Gary turned to inspect the crowd for potential misdeeds. Sadly, the only rewards for such an endeavor were whines of woes, as it didn’t take long before his flirts realized that the male’s gaze had wandered away from them.

“Garrry~!”

Honeyed words poured into the boy’s ears even as slender fingers whipped his chin to the side. Yet, despite such a heartfelt plea, the young lad couldn’t help but gulp nervously at the sight in front of him.

After all, it wasn’t his “sweethearts” – as people at the guild so often loved to tease the boy about – that Gary saw first. Instead, what greeted him turned out to be a pile of unconscious lasses with big bumps on their body and an even bigger bump on their head...

A sudden shiver ran down the hero’s spine, not helped by the husky breath that was coming from his right.

“Notice me, will you? Or, mayhap you’re planning to be someone else’s hero again, hm~?”

Saryn was still cupping his chin in a gentle grip, yet the vice-like force of her fingers and various layers of veins on her forehead – not to mention one nearby parasol long broken from “floozies flunking” - had grown to be oh so foreboding...

Gary looked to the side, his eyes begging for aid.

Deryn – blessed as her heart could be – pouted without sympathy.

Thiryn – possessing a bright mind – vied for his hand instead of her former knight’s.

Fibi continued to bother his leg with her growing bubbies, and it didn’t take long before said vixen got plonked in the head by a very irritated noble lady.

“Such lasciviousness could put even lowborns to shame...! Gary, tell your slave to behave, will you?”

She’s not my slave. The lad grew to protest, yet his courage wilted like a whipped pup when faced against his sweetheart’s glare.

Then again, it was the very same puppy eyes that managed to shimmer the flame of conflict, and it didn’t take long before the young lady conceded with a sigh.

“Right, right. You only saved this ‘innocent’ foxkin from her plight and whatnot...” Saryn bemoaned the fact like a wife mourning the way her husband kept bringing home ever more damsels in distress. “Still… Must your lust for adventure wander so far away, forsaking the solemn oaths set aside for us and us alone, back when you stole our hearts…?”

Faced with such a heartfelt plea, an honest thought couldn’t help but appear in Gary’s mind.

It went as such:

What the absolute rut are you talking about, woman!?

What solemn oaths? What lust for adventure? I saw wrongdoings and moved to stop it, similar to what might be happening right now!

Plus, I still don’t get why you or your sisters or little Fibi here - who is rubbing my leg and giving me thoughts way beyond inappropriate… - are known as my “lovers” of all things. I simply saved three of you from certain death and one from a fate worse than death, and that somehow makes us “sweethearts”?

We never even get to hold hands since most of you still think that’s how babies are made, for crying out loud! How come I and the literal baby of our bunch - who is still rubbing me - the only ones to know what sex is!?

Oh, oh, by the way... why do I even need to speak words of “nobler intent” like you insist? I’m not trying to court a highborn lady and that way of speaking is exhausting as rut, DAMMITTT!!!

Unfortunately, words of such uncouth manners were not befitting that of a hero-to-be, and Gary could only accept his fate with the usual sigh.

“Woe is I... to never understand girls, let alone those of gentler births...”

Thus, as his “sweethearts” once again fought among themselves for the smallest morsel of attention from their beloved, the hero’s soul found itself withering away like an underpaid actor in some cheap soapie drama.

And, with that, there remained none to spot a stranger cloaked in the shadow of some alley nearby.

“Z'roth, Oneth. Z'roth, Oneth. Z'roth, Oneth... Myst'rious beings beyond-”

Soon enough, one peculiar spear paled under the impious invocation – whose glow of insidious intent grew ever so nasty...