85th Episode
Anyway, much to my surprise, Zenon answered my question sincerely.
His answer was roughly as follows:
“There are at least 300 followers of the Resurrection Sect in Kern, possibly nearing 500. They’re much weaker individually than I am, but… even I would struggle if ten or more of them gang up on me.”
“500?! Don’t tell me the guards weren’t doing their jobs! Were they watching porn or what?!”
“They don’t have a uniform, nor any distinct features. There aren’t even the usual tattoos. Unless you dissect their brains, there’s no way to identify a Resurrection Sect member beforehand. As for how they differentiate allies from foes… that remains unknown even to the public.”
“This is insane…”
“The Resurrection Sect’s roots run deep in this paradise called Paraíso. It’s not an organization to be trifled with.”
That was the first answer. At this point, my mind already felt numb.
Of course, the answer to my second question was even more shocking.
“To summon a fragment of Astarte, we need a vessel capable of becoming a divine avatar, and countless human lives must be sacrificed to that vessel. That’s all the condition requires.”
“Innumerable? Exactly how many?”
“Only the fragment of Astarte sleeping in the ring knows. The ritual ends the moment she’s satisfied. Once there’s enough blood and lives, the fragment will sever the vessel’s neck, devour it, and awaken.”
“……”
“The summoning ritual triggers a massive explosion centered on the ring, engulfing the area. If Astarte isn’t satisfied with the number of lives sacrificed in this explosion… that’s when the followers of the Resurrection Sect will begin to act.”
“Tha…t’s right…”
“Beyond that, I don’t know. My mission only went up to that point. However, one thing is certain… if their plan succeeds, Kern will vanish from the map.”
“Got it… I understand… perfectly.”
With that answer, I finally understood most of what had happened in my previous life.
The residents mercilessly slaughtered after the explosion, and Seop Baek, who was found with his head severed—everything made sense.
In exchange for that clarity, I spent some time fighting the urge to throw up.
“H-Han… Park Jeong-yong. About who would win if the two of us fought…”
And finally, the much-anticipated third question.
Responding to my purely forward-thinking, principled query, Zenon answered as follows:
“First of all, I’ll most likely win. Actually, you would be obliterated without question.”
“You talk big, don’t you? Why, you little—how can you possibly say that when you’re at a lower level than me?”
“I’m not sure why, but… Park Jeong-yong, have you undergone a class change?”
“… A class change?”
“See? You don’t even know what it is. You’re clearly a beginner who skipped the fundamentals. It’s astonishing how you’ve managed to survive this long without undergoing a class change.”
“…”
It seems that those who pass the Hero Trials among the summoned heroes can undergo a “class change.”
When I questioned him further about this, it turned out to be the class change familiar from video games.
Once you complete a class change and determine your class, you gain additional stats and skills. You also acquire special abilities or unique stats based on your class.
If it’s so good, why didn’t I know about it? The answer is simple.
“How can someone not undergo a class change? After passing the trials, you’re taken to a temple by a deity and given a class change. Didn’t you say you passed the trials?”
“… A deity? The only things in my location were zombies and Sans… Heh heh…”
That’s right. Hallensenberg was a previously closed test site.
It seems I’ve been neglected this whole time, and now the snowball effect has finally caught up with me.
However, Zenon’s critique didn’t stop there.
“The problem isn’t just that. Look at what you’re wearing.”
“… If you’re suddenly going to criticize my fashion sense, I’d rather decline…”
“What nonsense. I’m talking about your gear.”
“Gear…?”
Only then did I notice what I was wearing.
A shirt that’s nearly shredded into rags, leather pants and a belt underneath, a faded backpack on my back, a small pouch at my waist, and two black-and-white swords.
By the way, apart from the swords, none of this has changed since the moment I arrived in this world. These are my soulmates who’ve accompanied me through my life in this alternative world.
Zenon pointed at my haphazard attire with disdain and pronounced his verdict.
“How long do you plan to keep using the beginner warrior gear meant for level 1? It’s practically begging for you to discard it.”
“…”
“Lack of a class change, and gear that’s as junky as they come. And yet here you are, hoping to defeat me? You’re just being unreasonable.”
That’s when I realized.
Somewhere along the way, I’d been playing this game at the max level, wearing only my underwear and having skipped the class change.
‘… Could it be…?’
Out of curiosity, I glanced at Zenon’s waist. The knife that had pierced my jaw and gone through my body in my past life peeked out of the bundle he carried.
At a glance, it’s a worn-out and shabby looking common dagger. But… what about the actual details?
‘Mimir’s Eye.’
Dun dun. With a familiar effect sound, a panel of information about the dagger appeared before my eyes.
[Name: Razor-Sharp Dragon-Butchering Dagger of Silence (+6)]
[Stats: Strength +15, Agility +15, Additional Damage to Dragons by 20%]
[Enhancement Stats: Strength +53, Agility +37, Intelligence +11]
[Special Stats]
[Prefix ‘Razor-Sharp’ – Ignores 30% of Defensive Armor]
[Prefix ‘Silence’ – Applies Spell Break Level 1]
[Details: A traditional dagger of the dragon-butchering clans of Kenaan in the Dragon Empire, used to pasture lesser dragons. Made from dragon bone, it appears crude but has little wear and is highly durable. Specialized for tearing dragon hide.]
[Remaining Enhancements: 1 (Total Enhancements Applied: 6)]
“Aaaaah!!! Power-leveling enhancement game!!!”
I screamed in shock at the maddeningly packed stats.
*
―… If you don’t have anything urgent to do, visit the Goddess’s Temple first. Neither class changes nor item enhancements take much time. Given your current state, your power could increase drastically in a short period.
Zenon advised me as I stood there dumbfounded, and I followed his recommendation to head straight to the temple.
Zenon, who used to cling to my ankles as an enemy, now proves to be an invaluable ally.
―Since item enhancements can only be done at the temple, there’s no need to visit a blacksmith separately. In the Hero nurturing system, it’s about augmenting divine power from the deities rather than physical enhancements. There won’t be a need for materials, but challenges will likely arise.
Zenon, being a real veteran who faced ground, water, and aerial battles tangled with the Resurrection Sect, is a trove of information. Besides item enhancements and class change details, he also gave me many survival tips as a Hero.
The guy from Hallensenberg who rapidly progressed under a high-level mage is surely different.
‘If possible, I’d like to continue this alliance.’
After becoming allies, it became even clearer. Zenon was too dangerous to turn into an enemy, and besides, an invaluable asset.
Of course, resolving the current situation and ensuring the survival of Gena and everyone will be essential for that.
“Is this the place?”
I stood in front of the arrived temple and looked up at the building silently. The Demon King timidly joined me and raised his gaze as well, exclaiming in astonishment.
“Oh ho! Is this the temple? A dirty den of the Celestial Realm bastards.”
“Well, according to the map Zenon gave me, this is it.”
“… Something doesn’t feel sacred about this place. Is it because I’m the Demon King?”
“No. Even I feel more vulgar than holy when looking at it.”
The ‘Temple to the Goddess’ mentioned by Zenon was located in the middle area between the residential and commercial districts. I expected it to be grand, but contrary to that, it looked primitive and was relatively small.
To be more precise, it’s even smaller than some of the luxurious restaurants in the commercial district. The outer walls were worn out and chipped, with broken marble pillars and statues scattered around, looking quite grotesque.
To put it frankly, the churches in Korea, which outnumber convenience stores, are far more sacred and lavish in comparison.
‘Could this really just be… a failed establishment?’
The level of decay makes me wonder whether this place is even still operational.
Shaking my head, doubting if Zenon had tricked me, I carefully opened the temple door and stepped inside.
“The inside is surprisingly clean.”
I’ve always wanted to say that line when entering a spooky place. Another bucket list item completed.
Indeed, the inside was cleaner than I expected. Overall, it had a dark tone with an altar at the center, surrounded by various ritual objects.
‘… What’s this?’
And then there were mirrors.
A straight line of large mirrors stretched behind the altar—there must be at least ten of them. The scene was unusual, and I couldn’t help but stay fixated on it.
Before I could dwell on the sight, a figure in a black cassock suddenly popped out before me.
“E-E-Excuse me… O-Oh, it’s been such a long time since a hero has visited us! The Goddess Propishia always welcomes the savior of this world…”
“H-H-H…”
My heart nearly leaped from my chest. I didn’t scream because I was so startled that words failed me altogether.
Taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart, I finally managed to speak.
“E-Eh, were you there the whole time?”
“Ah, yes, I’ve been praying here all along…”
“Ah, I see…”
It must be that the dark surroundings allowed the black cassock to blend in, acting like an invisibility cloak. After coughing a few times to regain my composure, I carefully examined the priest standing before me.
I initially tensed, but relaxed with a chuckle.
‘No need to use Mimir’s Eye on this guy, right?’
The priest had a gentle appearance, wearing glasses with blue eyes. Taller and rail-thin, the bulkiness of his cassock couldn’t hide his slim frame. He was holding what looked like a religious scripture.
His speech was hesitant, and his demeanor was unassertive. He didn’t seem like the extroverted type.
Most noticeably, his hair was pure white, almost glowing against the black priest’s hood. It was clear it wasn’t the result of age or gray hairs.
“A-Ah… Does my hair concern you? I… I have a condition known as Albinism, which is the reason.”
Caught in my gaze, the priest quickly explained. It seemed he was no stranger to receiving such attention.
I raised an eyebrow after hearing a medical condition I had never encountered before.
“Albinism?”
“Y-Yes… It’s a condition sometimes referred to as Diana’s curse. The only symptom is that your body hair turns white, but it’s neither harmful nor contagious, so there’s no need to worry.”
“I see…”
At that moment, the priest’s gaze shifted towards Luci hiding behind me. Luci hastily pulled her hood deeper over her face.
“I thought that young lady also suffered from Albinism… but I guess not?”
“Oh, no. This one’s inherited.”
“I see. Excuse me for asking. It’s just that I’m overjoyed to see visitors.”
“No, it’s alright.”
With a gentle smile, the priest walked further into the temple.
Albinism—a new excuse to explain Luci’s unique features. I exchanged a glance with her on the side before following the priest closely.
The priest turned around after leading us a short distance to the altar.
“I’m Father Plick Abbas. I serve the Goddess Propishia, mother of all lesser deities.”
“I’m Park Jeong-yong.”
“And this is not Rusty, but Luci.”
After the sudden introductions, I shared my name as well, followed reluctantly by Luci.
Why do you even need to introduce yourself? You’re just a radish with nothing to offer.
“Ah, what brings you here today? Do you require blessing or consecration? Or perhaps a class change or equipment enhancement?”
“Uh… We’re here for a class change and enhancement.”
“Oh! Understood. Please follow me.”
The priest, with practiced ease, lead us forward, stopping before the altar as he gestured toward the mirrors behind it.
“In truth, our temple of Propishia does not directly assist heroes. We merely act as stepping stones connecting you to the realms of the lesser deities.”
“A stepping stone?”
“Yes… please place your hand on this altar. It will determine which lesser deity favors you. Once identified, a connected mirror will light up. You can enter it to meet the deity and undergo your class change or item enhancement.”
“Ah, I see.”
The priest explained with great familiarity, delivering rehearsed lines like a theme park staff member.
Having received the explanation, I immediately extended my hand toward the altar. Just before touching it, I glanced at Plick.
“Is simply placing my hand on it sufficient?”
“Yes… Leave the rest to me.”
“Okay, let’s do it.”
With that, I placed my hand on the altar.
Thump. Suddenly, a sensation swept over me as if my heart had stopped. A sharp but tolerable pain prickled my palm. Then, a fierce suction force emanated from the altar, pulling something from within me.
“It’s… getting sucked in! What the hell is this?!”
Startled, I immediately retracted my hand and glared at Plick.
Judging by the intensity of my gaze, I imagine he felt considerable hostility. I even considered drawing my sword, given the gravity of the situation. I briefly even thought, “Could this be an agent of the Resurrection Sect?”
However, that suspicion evaporated the instant I saw Plick’s bewildered expression; he looked even more startled than I felt.
“W-W-W-W-Wha… what…?”
No, it was more than bewilderment—pure panic.
Plick’s face went ghostly white as he stared, wide-eyed, at one of the mirrors spewing dark energy.
“T-T-This… the gate to the Death God Untredhred… a gate that hasn’t opened in thirty years… and yet the density of this dark energy… WHAT IS THIS?!”
Plick began stuttering twice as much as usual, then abruptly turned his gaze toward me.
All the kindness and ease were gone from his eyes.
“Y-Y-YOU… Who.. ARE you?”
Faced with his awe-filled question, I scratched my head.
I slowly approached the mirror, which emitted a chilling aura I could feel across the distance. Yet, strangely, while Plick was gripped with fear, I felt oddly… comfortable with the dark energy.
Without hesitation, I placed my hand on the mirror and said with a wry smile:
“I’m just the 164317413th Hero.”
As I mumbled those words, the world around me blurred and was gently enveloped in warmth.
For a fleeting moment, I felt dazed.
