The lights are off.
Even late at night.
Even in the early morning.
The lights in the inn, which were always on, were turned off.
Should I feel puzzled?
Or should I just ignore it? The feeling I felt as I settled in was more anxiety than bewilderment.
Magic flowed from the inn. It was too powerful to be attributed to a mere adventurer, yet too eerie to be attributed to a wizard.
I think I get it now.
Why are the lights in the inn off?
And now I think I understand why the apostle is in the north.
"Black magic..."
The ultimate goal of paganism is the re-creation of the world.
The ultimate goal of paganism was to resurrect the evil spirit, to erase the regrets of the past and the sorrow of lost memories, and to start over again.
The weapon used by pagans with vain dreams was black magic. It was an abnormal gunpowder that gained ammunition through the medium of emotion.
The method of replenishing black magic varied from person to person.
Someone is committing murder.
Someone has a wrong definition.
Someone else had accumulated dark magic through envy and jealousy.
We don't know Olaf's circumstances, but what we do know is that he didn't come to the North for no reason. He was a pagan, confined to his own country, educating believers.
'Still, there is hope. Is this it?'
I quietly closed my eyes and relaxed. Then I let out a hollow laugh.
"under..."
I couldn't feel it.
No sign of anyone's popularity.
The number of people inside.
I couldn't get any information out of it.
'Is it a difference in class...?'
A moment of hesitation, a moment when your heart is about to waver.
-Ding.
The guy I didn't want to see was forcing my choice.
[Q. A name that cannot be called anymore.]
Somewhere in the north.
There lived a girl who lost her mother at a young age, lonely and brave.
The girl who was teased by her children, saying, "You don't have a mom," and who shouted, "Your dad is a cheater!" was bravely overcoming her sadness with her father.
The girl hated the lonely and harsh life in the North, but she was happy to be with her father.
Fishing on the ice too.
And sleeping in my father's arms.
And warming ourselves by the fire together.
The girl was happy and well.
As an adult, the girl dreams of becoming successful and providing a comfortable life for her father.
The girl wanted to buy firewood instead of going out to collect it, and she wanted her father to stop working with his sore shoulder.
For a girl, her father was an indispensable presence in the world.
No one knows.
How much the girl loves her father. For the girl, her father is like a pillar.
If her father were to disappear, the girl would likely be deeply saddened, perhaps even venting her resentment on someone.
(!) Save Yuria's father, James.
1. Rescue Yuria's father, James. (0/1)
2. Survival from the Apostle of Mercy, Olaf. (0/1)
Reward: New Realm, Hand of Rehabilitation Lv. 2
On failure: Yuria's 'Hatred', Hand of Rehabilitation's 'Disappearance', James' 'Death'
───────────
"It's not surprising anymore."
I let out a hollow laugh and looked out the blue window. I was too late, even if I had been late.
I stretched and heard the pounding of my heart.
'Can we win?'
-Thump. Thump.
'It must be hard, right?'
But what can I do? What can I do?
They say the young lady's leg can't be fixed, and the pretty girl is crying. What can I do? My heart softened by the beauty's cries, and I let out a hollow laugh as I clutched Tirving.
'Shall we go?'
Olaf's magical powers seemed to be holding up, so I felt like I had a chance. After all, I was a possessed being, so there was no opponent I couldn't defeat.
I smiled and stroked the head of the girl who was drinking milk with a blank expression.
"Ugh... my hair is tangled."
"It's okay. It's not my hair."
"Eeeeek!"
I spoke to the girl in a calm voice.
"miss."
"huh."
"Could you please wait here for a moment?"
The girl tilted her head and a question mark appeared on her head.
"why?"
"Um... I'm thinking of an excuse, so please wait."
"I need to go to bed quickly so I can grow taller."
"Phew... That's right. But it seems like the inn isn't cleaned properly, so I'll go help."
I smiled slightly at the girl's gaze as if to say, "I paid to sleep here, so why are you cleaning?" and pulled her cheek.
"I'll be back soon."
"Profit... It's cold."
I placed the young lady's wheelchair far away from the inn and crouched down to speak.
"I'll be back soon."
I stepped into the inn and called out someone's name softly, magically.
Mr. Hans.
Because I needed insurance.
*
It was dark inside the inn.
It was eerily quiet, and the table was in shambles, as if to prove that there had been a rough fight.
The damp floor, soaking wet, held my shoes in place. I smiled bitterly and muttered under my breath at the sensation of the floor, which was both sticky and had a familiar smell.
"I guess it was true that when I was young, I was a successful adventurer."
Traces of the battle are clearly visible under the moonlight streaming through the windows.
Three bodies that appear to be of the same class as the Shinto priests.
A corpse that appears to be of interrogation grade.
And the sword that was displayed on the first floor of the inn was nowhere to be seen.
James. No, it must have been Yuria's father.
I walked along the site of the bloody battle with a bitter smile, and before I knew it, I was standing in front of someone's bloody trail leading up the stairs.
It continued.
Blood flowing from one person's body continued towards the second floor without clotting.
I hesitated, then raised my head and stepped onto the stairs leading to the second floor. An eerie, "creaking" sound of wood being stepped on rang in my ears.
"It's brutal."
I slowly pulled out the Tirving and steeled my resolve. And then, at that moment.
-Thud...
Outside the window, something large began to cast a shadow. It was too grotesque to be human, too massive to be a monster, and it was revealing itself, blocking out the moonlight.
I smiled slightly and snapped my fingers.
-Exactly.
Things seemed to be going easier than I thought.
*
James clutched his stomach and clenched his fists.
A pain that feels like it's going to explode.
Legs that have lost strength.
Even standing was a limitation.
James chuckled and muttered to himself.
'It's not even funny...'
James gritted his teeth and recalled what had just happened. He remembered that he hadn't opened the door because of the kind-looking old man's words.
James asked this.
-I came to share some good words.
-Oh my, you came as a group.
-...
-How many rooms are there...
-...Please have mercy.
-yes?
-Please give a room to a prophet who has no place to go.
-So, how many...
-Mercy… . Sheep are to be merciful.
James coughed up blood and gasped for breath.
"Why are you doing this..."
He was venting his frustrations to those who had committed violence, screaming out his frustration.
James looked at them with trembling eyes, wondering why they were resorting to violence when he would have gladly given them money if they had asked for it instead.
Believers breathing heavily.
And he vented his anger at the sight of an old man wearing a white semaphore.
"Why are you doing this? I'll give you whatever money you ask for."
The old man in the semaphore smiled kindly and began to take a step towards James.
-Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The old man clasped his hands together and opened his mouth in a reverent manner.
"God doesn't want money."
"...what?"
"God simply wants us to act. Knowing and acting on God's will is faith."
The old man, who was spitting out an unintelligible word, brushed away his short white beard and spoke to James.
"Brother, you questioned God's will."
The old man, who had a sturdy build for a priest, looked at James with pity.
"Isn't that right, brother?"
"...What are you guys?"
"We are clergy who believe in God. We are like shepherds who spread the doctrine and lead people to pure faith."
The old man reached out and stroked James's chin. His rough, calloused palm caressed James's skin coolly before disappearing.
The old man, with a satisfied smile, removed his hand and began to lecture James. He began to speak calmly, in a reverent voice, about why they had acted that way, and what was wrong with him.
"Haha... We asked our brother to have mercy on us."
"So you're giving me money...!"
"God doesn't ask twice. The sheep just have to listen to the shepherd's voice and follow him... It is unacceptable for animals to have an ego."
The congregation, listening intently to the old man's words, kept their mouths shut and nodded. James, alone in the eerie atmosphere, took out his notebook and busily scribbled something, his pupils trembling, unsure of where to direct them.
"I was going to use this shabby place to pray today."
"To hear the voice of God."
"I have entrusted this inn to you to receive the strength to survive the adversity that awaits you. Do you understand?"
Olaf's voice grew increasingly agitated. He glared at James with an expression as eerie as the one Ricardo and Olivia had seen in the snowfield.
"You said you would let me be of use, so why are you talking so much?"
Olaf finished his sermon and began to slash his wrists, sprinkling blood on the floor.
As the flowing blood touched the floor, it made a 'chiik' sound and drew a utopia pattern.
The black magic circle was slowly drawn around James, little by little, until a complete circle was created.
"Ugh...!"
It started to strangle James's breath.
"Ugh... breath, breath...!"
A surge of pain surged through James, his blood boiling and his heart pounding. His vision gradually turned crimson, and his hands and feet began to tremble.
"Khuhuhuk...! Kuluck..."
James gasped for breath and grabbed Olaf's hand. "Please, save me," he pleaded. He held Olaf's hand, desperately hoping to see his daughter through the swirling kaleidoscope of images.
"Save me..."
"..."
“Please save me… I have a daughter. I have a family…”
Olaf's eyes caught sight of a small picture frame on the desk.
A beautiful and elegant beauty.
Olaf licked his lips as he picked up the picture frame.
"Oh... If you offer me this woman, I might reconsider."
"what...?"
"It seems like a good toy to use. Hmm, yeah, I don't think I'll get tired of it."
“This kid….”
"How about it? I'll give you an hour of your time, so why don't you dedicate it to me? I'll make you a precious sheep who receives the shepherd's love."
James rushed at Olaf, his anger seething.
"ì´ ê°ìë¼ê°!!!"
In an instant, something huge began to appear before James' eyes.
Something huge looking at you from outside the window.
A monster too huge to be called a monster, and too grotesque to be called a human.
It had the shape of a horse.
-Doruk.
Overwhelmed by fear, James dropped the sword he was holding. He'd never seen such a monster in his life. Yes, it was a strange, almost bizarre mixture of all kinds of creatures.
Only now did James realize the role of the magic circle surrounding him.
'prey...'
The moment when a dizzying fear threatens to cut James's throat.
-Flash.
Red lightning began to pour down on the giant monster's head.
-Kugugugugugu...
Continue without stopping.
It started pouring down.
Just as James's pain was about to fade, a familiar young man's voice was heard.
"Look down on the person who is going to look down on you. Dirty."