Chapter 19

Chapter 19

✠

At that time, the Countess, Sandra Gilette stood frozen, quivering in dismay. The count carefully put his arms around his shaking wife.

“Sweetheart, are you all rig—”

“No, I’m not all right!” The countess shrieked and fell into tears. “Dear, what do we do? Why now, of all times, did your mother decide to return to the castle? I thought she had no concern for the family’s business after devoting herself to her religion!”

“W-well, you see...”

“Is it because of your successor? Ahh! She’s going to come down here and harass me for how I raised the children!”

“Come now, dear. That’s absurd. My mother would never do something like...”

“Are you taking your mother’s side right now?! In front of me?!”

All of Gilette castle was in an uproar at the news that the stern and fearsome Madam Cartelaya Gilette was on her way.

Using Narrative Plausibility to Activate Quests

The Vatican. The sacred grounds in which the Pope himself resides. The supreme governing body that oversees all legislative, executive, and judicial power of the Holy Kingdom of Elfenheim. Here in the depths of these hallowed lands lies a very unusual facility.

That facility was an orphanage. The orphans that resided there were carefully selected from orphanages across the nation. All of these children had the stigmata carved into their skin at a very young age, which awakened their divine powers.

The religious order referred to them as the “Stigma Bearers.” They were widely viewed as very sheltered children, cherished and coddled, but in reality, they were all receiving intense battle training.

Case in point, the young children were slated to work in the Holy Prosecution Department, specifically in the Heathen Judgment Division. It was well-known throughout the Vatican that this was the most vicious department.

In the same way that proud parents send academically advanced kids to gifted schools, the stigmata bearers were seen as the Vatican’s most gifted and devout, and due to their talents were allowed to attend such a prestigious institution.

The Vatican was forced to hold open recruitment events on certain days throughout the year because of the parents’ cry to get their children’s potential checked. One week from today marked one of those rare events, the Day of Sacrifice.

“Look at all those people swarming in.”

“Hmm, I wonder how many are going to make it through this time. I don’t sense divine power from any of them.”

“We’re the weird ones for awakening it so young. I mean, I guess we didn’t awaken ours through normal mea— Hey, Ephael! Get off me. I said get off!” As Ephael leaned his elbow against Hestio, the two began to squabble.

Tesilid ignored his roommates as he pressed his right fist against his chest and closed his eyes.

Ephael and Hestio both stopped to look at Tesilid.

“Are you praying?”

“Are you praying for them to all get accepted?”

As always, Hestio and Ephael teamed up against Tesilid.

Hestio angrily flicked his dark hair back and grumbled, “Hey, Tesilid. There’s nothing more useless than prayers of blessing for the public. Just like how not everyone can win the lottery, it’s completely pointless.”

“Let him be. It’s all about self-satisfaction with him. He can keep his “holier-than-thou” charade going and even be in god’s favor through some cheap prayers.”

Tesilid was used to Ephael and Hestio’s derisive remarks, but today was a little different. The sight of the other children holding their parents’ hands made him feel a little impulsive.

Tesilid retorted, “It’s the opposite.”

“What?”

“I prayed that all of those children would fail and return back home.”

A bleak silence fell upon the three young boys. Both Ephael and Hestio corrected themselves.

“What is up with you? You’re not as annoying today as you usually are.”

“That’s right. Did you hit your head or something?”

Just when Tesilid’s relationship with his peers seemed to have taken a turn for the better, he had to pay the price. The stigma grafted into his left wrist started burning and a string of words visible only to him began to unfold. They were the writings of god himself.

Modesty, charity, kindness, patience, chastity, temperance, diligence.

The seven heavenly virtues. Suddenly, some of the words began to fade and darken. “Modesty” darkened into “pride,” while “kindness” darkened into “envy.” Immediately after, as if to punish him, Tesilid’s divine powers slightly decreased.

Great... Now I can’t even speak properly. Tesilid wouldn’t awaken his powers of regression until he was twenty, but even now, at age ten, he had a special ability. Only he, Tesilid Argente, possessed the unique power of “Commandment of the Seven Heavenly Virtues and Seven Deadly Sins.”

He was able to gain divine powers unparalleled among his peers, but many restrictions plagued his life. Tesilid’s divine power grew stronger every time he carried out one of the “Seven Heavenly Virtues,” which were modesty, charity, kindness, patience, chastity, temperance, and diligence.

On the other hand, committing one of the “Seven Deadly Sins”—pride, greed, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth—would weaken his divine power.

“The Strict Order and Goodness” stayed true to his name and evaluated Tesilid’s each and every word and action. This restriction damned him to live a life of unwavering virtue but ultimately caused him to be a pushover as he grew older.

Maybe I’ll obey just until I awaken my aura... No, even after I awaken it... The “Commandment of the Seven Heavenly Virtues and Seven Deadly Sins” was too powerful to give up just for the sake of living a comfortable life.

The demon spawns that constantly threatened the peace of Serentra were just waiting for an opportunity to strike through the dungeons. Divine power would be vital in the Great War Against Evil. Tesilid sighed. Unless he gave up all sense of duty, he had no choice.

Hestio and Ephael peered out the window and continued to talk. They sounded much more crestfallen than before.

“What use do we have with those weaklings? I bet they will just whine and complain all day because they’ll want to go back to Mommy.”

“You’re right, Hestio. Only motherless, fatherless mutts like us should be here. Ah, how sad.”

“But when are we ever going to get to leave the Vatican? When we’re adults?”

“Probably never. Well, maybe if a huge dungeon sink bursts out in the middle of the Vatican.”

“Hey, Ephael! You call that a joke?”

“You scared, little chicken?”

Tesilid cracked a smile at his roommates’ nonsensical jokes. All unaware of what fate had in store for them.

✠

Without fail, my daily routine began with morning prayer. The Transmigration Bureau gods were back online as soon as they had finished with the system updates. Now that the comms link was back on, I kept chatting away even when the 53rd quest completion message popped up.

“And so my alchemy skill is at level 9 and I’ve developed over twenty types of potions and supplements that are market-ready. I’ll be sure to spend tons at the cash shop once business kicks off.”

⟬The Voice that Shapes the World says that’s very admirable and contentedly smiles.⟭

“On the other hand, I’m starting to wonder if it’s really necessary for me to work so hard. There are much easier routes that I could take. The best way to make a profit is by cornering the market. There’s an episode in the original story where a plague hits the continent. All I need to do is procure the herbs, cultivate the curative potion, and stock up on it. I’ll be rich!”

I’ll be able to save all the people and make a lot of money along the way. The greater good and my personal goals were aligned in this case.

⟬The Voice that Shapes the World says that’s a great idea and roots for you.⟭

“But there’s a problem! I can’t procure an herb that’s used in the cure.”

The primary ingredient for the plague’s cure was the root of Elephantipes. According to the original story, it’s a weed that grows naturally inside the Vatican. Unfortunately, it is no longer available. It seems they completely uprooted every single Elephantipes in the Vatican to make the landscape more beautiful. The fact that Elephantipes take at least three years to grow was also a problem.

“The only way I’m going to get my hands on that plant is if I hand-pick the sprout myself using my cultivation skills, but my radius of action is severely limited.”

As a tradeoff for adjusting the survival level to F during the tutorial, I could only operate within Gilette Castle. I had tried to leave the territory, but I found myself right back where I started.

⟬The Voice that Shapes the World ponders for a moment and says there will be enough time even after the original story begins.⟭

“You’re right. We still have quite a bit of time until the plague hits us. I guess I can ask the protagonist for his help later.”

I’m sure I’d have no problem getting the pushover protagonist to fetch me every single weed growing in the Vatican if I do him a favor.

Then all of a sudden, a lightbulb went off in my head.

“Speaking of the protagonist, what is he doing while I’m busting my butt down here?”

I’m in the tutorial right now. This is way before the infinite returns-themed story begins. In other words, the protagonist has yet to awaken his regression powers and has no idea that he’s fated to get that sort of ability. I wonder what the young boy’s life was like right now. Hopefully, he’s not out there living the good life by himself. I was curious.

“He’s probably the same age as me right now since the regression doesn’t start until he turns twenty.”

⟬The Voice that Shapes the World coyly asks if you want to meet the protagonist.⟭

“I can’t meet him anyhow. I’m in the middle of the tutorial and I can’t leave Gilette Castle. The protagonist is trapped in the Vatican getting his special training.”

Just as I was giving up the idea completely, I received an unexpected response.

⟬The Voice that Shapes the World says there is a way for you to briefly leave the castle if they use their authority.⟭

My ears perked up when I heard their offer. “Really? I thought gods couldn’t meddle in mundane business like that.”

⟬The Voice that Shapes the World says that’s technically true, but there’s always a way to skirt the rules.⟭

“I see.”

⟬The Voice that Shapes the World puffs up their chest and says that not just any god could pull this off.⟭

I stuck out both thumbs and looked up. “You’re the best, Lord Voice. Now tell me about this workaround of yours.”

⟬The Voice that Shapes the World says if they expend some narrative plausibility they can activate a quest.⟭

They continued to explain in detail. In short, if enough plausibility builds up to the point where I need to get to a certain place, Lord Voice could justify taking the authority to set up a quest for me. But even this would be difficult because going somewhere like the Vatican would require an exceptional amount of plausibility.

⟬The Voice that Shapes the World says to just bring them any old cardinal and they’ll take care of the rest.⟭

“Look here, Lord Voice. You do realize that I’ve transmigrated into the body of a powerless, commoner maid, right?”

How am I supposed to form a connection with some random cardinal? How inconsiderate. They got my hopes up for nothing. Just as I was puffing up my cheeks in indignation, Lord Voice sent me another message.

⟬The Voice that Shapes the World says there’s no need to look far and points behind you.⟭

Behind me?

“Well... I never expected this place to be so tidy.”

“Oh my god!”

I jumped up with a start and faced my unexpected visitor.