Afterward, we left the area without another word, moving posthaste. The streets leading into District F were quiet, the city hushed in sleep at this late hour. By the ti we returned to the Breezy Inn, the place was much livelier than when I first arrived. Warm light spilled from the windows, and the muffled sounds of conversation, clinking cutlery, and the occasional burst of laughter could be heard clearly from outside.
As we stepped inside, we were greeted by the familiar scent of roasted at and herbs wafting from the hearth. The innkeeper—the sa middle-aged woman as before—imdiately recognized us. Her usual grumpy expression softened slightly at the sight of Boris, and she gestured for us to sit despite not having paid for the room tonight.
We made our way to an empty table near the corner and sat down.
“Boris, you’re still as popular as ever,” I joked, nudging him lightly.
“Gahaha! Back ho, the ladies were always trying to curry favor with ,” Boris said with a hearty grin. “But I’m loyal to my deceased wife, and I’ve got no interest in getting into another relationship.”
“I see.”
“You must’ve really had a loving wife…” Michelle murmured softly.
Boris’s grin faded into a gentle smile. “Aye, that I did. She was the heart of my world. Even now, I still carry her mory with … Unfortunately, I lost her as she succumbed to sickness…”
The mood quieted for a mont, and a rare stillness settled among us. Then Boris slapped the table and let out another laugh, lightening the air again.
“But enough of that—let’s eat! I’m starving!”
Soon after, the innkeeper returned with our dinner. It was nothing extravagant, but it was at stew—a generous helping of tender, slow-cooked chunks of beef swimming in a rich, savory broth, accompanied by boiled potatoes and carrots. On a separate plate set before Boris was a thick, juicy chunk of at, drenched in a rich gravy sauce that gave off a mouthwatering aroma.
On the side, we were served warm, crusty bread—perfect for soaking up the stew—and a small dish of pickled vegetables to cleanse the palate. To top it all off, each of us was given a mug of cold beer, with the foam still fresh at the top.
After everything we’d been through today, this simple al felt incredibly satisfying.
Once we finished our dinner, we chatted for a bit, letting the warmth of the food and the mont settle in. There was sothing I’d been aning to ask, so I turned to Boris with curiosity.
“Speaking of which, how did you manage to knock that mohawk guy out cold with a single choke slam?”
Granted, his body had transford into obsidian thanks to his signature skill, and his hand-to-hand combat was clearly top-tier—but even with that, pulling off a feat like that without a class advancent would’ve required incredible stats.
It was amazing, to say the least.
“Oh, that’s because I got a rare title during the scenario,” Boris replied casually. “‘One Mind, One Body.’ Boosts my stats and enhances my martial skills. So, you know.” He shrugged like it was nothing.
But it was not nothing. Getting a title above the uncommon rank wasn’t sothing that happened every day. Without raw talent, absurd luck, or both, it would’ve been impossible.
I stared at him for a mont, nodding slowly. I really had a lot to learn from him. First thing in the morning—once Boris and Michelle completed their class advancents—we should head to the training field in District E. It would be the perfect chance to improve further.
Speaking of tonight…
“I think I’ll get my own room from now on,” I said casually, turning to Boris and Michelle. “We’ve got the money, and I’d prefer a little space.”
Doing it in the bedroom was… a bit awkward to say the least, especially with others around watching. It would be far more comfortable to have a private room where I could train without being disturbed. Besides, I had a feeling the others wouldn’t mind so privacy either.
“No problem,” Boris said with a grin. “I kinda want to snore as loud as I can tonight.”
Michelle gave a small smile. “Mhm. Might be nice to have a bit of space for ourselves.”
And so, we approached the counter and handed over the coins for three private rooms—fifty soul coins each, a price I could now pay without a second thought. Once that was done, we made our way upstairs and entered our respective rooms.
For the first ti in a while, I could finally stretch out on a bed and relax…
“No, wait. There’s still one thing I need to do.” I sat back up on the bed and thought for a mont. There were several priorities I had ntally outlined for the days ahead.
First, I needed to secure a reliable way to generate plausibility—sothing that would allow to use my broken skills more freely. It was absolutely critical to have a reserve of plausibility for ergencies. While I could technically repeat the second scenario, based on what I heard from Boris and Michelle, the starting point seed to be random. Finding another thrall camp with a statue filled with faith like before would be a long shot. As such, this thod couldn’t be relied upon.
Second, I had to keep getting stronger without relying solely on class-related skills. Maybe learning magic could be an option, but that would take ti, and ti wasn’t exactly sothing I had in abundance. Starting tomorrow, I’d head to the training field and focus on refining my proficiency as well as trying to learn an offensive skill or two.
Thinking about skills reminded of sothing. I opened my status screen to check on my first signature skill.
Considering I had already completed my class advancent, it should now be—
Aha. Just as I thought.
[@!$# Creation]
Rank: &!%@#?$
Type: Active
System Error: [0x00F4D3]
I still couldn’t figure out what this skill’s function truly was, but at the very least, I realized that the description had expanded slightly since my class advancent, and that ant more details would likely reveal themselves with further progression. Perhaps so of its applications might unlock once I reached Giml rank. Only ti would tell.
In any case, the third priority I had to address was how to deal with Scarface’s group—Graham’s rcenaries. And I just happened to have an easy way to do that.
After inhaling a lungful of air, I called out. “Raphael. Co out, I want to talk with you.”
Silence. Nothing responded to my voice.
However, I didn’t stop. “I know you are watching us—everyone in this divine realm. I have sothing important to discuss.”
Still, no answer.
I had expected this too. So, I played my trump card—the one thing that would absolutely grab her attention: “This concerns the Battle of Divine Will as well as—”
“What?”
A flash of light ignited in the air like a sudden burst of static, and then she appeared, hovering two ters above the floor. The chibi archangel Raphael, no taller than a teddy bear, flapped her small feathery wings and looked visibly annoyed. In one hand, she clutched a translucent holographic screen still flickering with what looked like... a video of a codic skit, complete with over-the-top reactions and sound effects. Her other hand held a half-eaten food that resembled popcorn.
Was she... watching a divine version of YouTube?
Gods and higher beings could watch the Battle of Divine Will and special, higher-level scenarios live, but there was nothing like what she was watching when I was a God-King. Ti sure had changed.
“You interrupted my ‘Mortals Failing Spectacularly’ compilation!” she huffed, cheeks puffing out in irritation. “Wait, how do you know of the Battle of Divine Will?! Who told you that? Answer , mortal, or else!”
Even now, I could feel an imnse, suffocating pressure that felt like it weighed a ton coming from her. Yep. This is Raphael, all right. One wrong word, and I’d be vaporized into a fine mist.
“That’s what I want to talk to you about,” I replied steadily.
“Hmph. This better be very important,” she said, finally releasing the suffocating pressure as she crossed her arms and floated lower. “If you can’t satisfy with your explanation,” she added coldly, “I won’t mind erasing you as paynt for your previous transgressions.”
“Just lend your ear for a second. Where I got this information is not important, but I’m aware that Lady Istellia is currently under the ‘Grace Period,’ and that the other gods are temporarily barred from attacking her divine realm.”
As I was explaining, Raphael’s expression turned from serious to surprised, and finally to shock.
“At the current state of divine warriors in Phantasris, there’s a high probability that Lady Istellia will lose the upcoming Battle of Divine Will, possibly losing both her divine power and her kingdom in the process. Am I right?”
In Fantasia, the city where all of Istellia’s divine warriors resided, the strongest individuals were only at Giml rank, and even then, they could be counted on one hand. In contrast, when the Grace Periods of other new gods ended, there would usually be at least a few Daleth or even He-rank divine warriors among their ranks, which was only one rank away from becoming divine heroes.
There was no way Raphael could deny that disparity. She went silent for a mont, her tiny fists clenched at her sides.
Then she finally spoke. “Watch your words! So what if you know all this? Wouldn’t it be easier for to erase you now so you don’t blabber to anyone else?”
I scoffed. “That would be a stupid idea. After all, I wouldn’t have brought this up if I didn’t also have a way to fix the problem.”
One of the main reasons divine warriors in this realm weren’t progressing as quickly as in other divine kingdoms was because of Scarface’s group. Many people with potential who grew too fast and attracted too much attention would beco their target. The saying “the tallest nail gets hamred down” couldn’t be truer in this case.
The other reason was because of the system’s stability. Once divine warriors reached a certain level of scenario progression, the daily one-hundred-soul-coins deduction beca aningless. With no real pressure to grow stronger, most of them simply repeated the sa easy scenarios over and over, stunting their own developnt.
Thankfully, I had a solution that could address both problems at once, thus killing two birds with one stone.
“What are you suggesting, mortal?” Raphael squinted at suspiciously.
“I’ll tell you the solution, but first, I want a promise from you,” I said evenly.
“You, a re mortal, dare to negotiate with , a higher being?” Her stare turned sharp, though, given her chibi form, it was more amusing than intimidating.
Still, I couldn’t help but sneer. “I know the great archangel Raphael wouldn’t stoop so low as to exploit a lowly mortal like . What I want is simple: a favor. When the ti cos, I want you to help .”
I knew all too well how prideful higher beings were. After all, I had once stood at the top of the chain, commanding such beings as if they were re mortals. Playing their emotions inside my palm was a piece of cake.
She glared daggers at for a mont longer before letting a begrudging sigh as she crossed her arms. “Fine. As degrading as it is, if your solution satisfies , I’ll honor your request. Otherwise… don’t expect rcy.”
“Deal.”
With that, I shared the full plan with her—the solution for this conundrum.
Once I finished, Raphael floated in silence for several seconds, visibly processing everything. “Human, your thod is… quite good,” she admitted at last. “Very well. I will inform Lady Istellia personally.”
She gave one last look before disappearing in a shimr of light.
As I was left alone in the room, I decided to put in training for tomorrow and sleep for the night.
As a tribute to the Goddess of Imagination, Istellia, 100 Soul Coins have been deducted from your balance.
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