#009

Six months had passed since I began learning to read and write from Antonio.

Yes.

Six months.

‘Damn these medieval people!’

I had forgotten that the Middle Ages were a time when someone could be executed and then posthumously desecrated for attempting to translate the Latin Bible into English on the grounds of blasphemy.

As if to prove it was indeed a medieval setting, the Dark Realm used a Bible written in a language that remained completely unintelligible even after reading it.

In other words, learning to read didn’t just mean learning the alphabet; it meant having to learn an unnecessarily difficult foreign language on top of it.

‘This is so damn inefficient!’

For the record, there was no need to learn the script for the everyday language.

It was just Hangul.

‘If anything, it was a struggle pretending not to know it.’

Since I was in a hurry, I pretended to read haltingly after only three days, and Antonio praised me incessantly, calling me a true genius.

Then, he brought out the Bible, saying I could now begin learning the Sacred Script.

‘…Ugh, if this weren’t actually high-level knowledge, I would have just quit.’

On the seventh day of studying the Sacred Script, once I realized that I couldn’t master this even if I searched my life away for a month, I decided to give up and just leave.

It wasn’t as if I had some grand ambition; I just wanted to find a decent job near the chapel to make a living, and knowing the everyday script was more than enough for that.

I wasn’t planning on becoming a priest, so what use would studying the Sacred Script be?

However, when I subtly hinted that it was too difficult and I wanted to stop, the usually gentle Antonio rarely raised his voice, insisting, “You must master the Sacred Script.”

He claimed that most truly important things are written in the Sacred Script, and without mastering it, there would inevitably be a limit to my learning.

Actually, when I said I wanted to escape my ignorance, I had simply meant that I wanted him to write a recommendation letter for the Order Sect, so I was a bit flustered.

So, I said, “I am from a serf background, so when I go to the capital, I will likely earn money as a laundress or a general laborer. Even in my spare time, I will barely have enough time just to read texts in the common script. Would someone like me even have the opportunity to read precious knowledge written in the Sacred Script?”

To this, Antonio made an enticing offer.

“If you learn the Sacred Script, you won’t have to do such work!”

As it turned out, if I mastered the Sacred Script, he said he could open a path for me to become a monk or a priest, as it would be commendable for someone of serf origin to possess such a passion for learning.

But I had absolutely no desire to become a priest.

As a modern person, there was no way I could have faith in Loclem. Without faith, my divine power would be nonexistent, and I wouldn’t even be able to become a bell ringer, let alone a priest. It would be a complete waste of effort.

So, I asked, “I may not have the qualities to become such a member of the clergy. Would learning the Sacred Script still be meaningful?”

After a moment of thought, Antonio replied, “It is meaningful. Even if you have no particular talent, you can still be ordained as a monk, or at the very least, a Chanter.”

Since it was a job title I had never seen in the game, I asked what a Chanter does, and Antonio explained: “The only sacred office that requires no conditions is that of a Chanter. Well, there is exactly one condition: you must be able to read the Sacred Script. If you satisfy this one requirement, you can receive ordination.

As for what a Chanter does… hmm. How should I explain it? Right, I told you that most people, even nobles, find the Sacred Script so difficult that they cannot read it, correct? Therefore, nobles hire ‘Chanters’ who can read the Scripture.

Thus, as long as you can read the Sacred Script, you will have no trouble supporting yourself for the rest of your life. Furthermore, you will have opportunities to learn many things. Now, do you feel like finishing your studies in the Sacred Script?”

With those words, I was completely convinced.

A job where I get paid regularly just for reading books.

What could be more of a dream job than that?

For a serf like me, this was a genuine chance to turn my life around.

The problem was…

‘There are less than three months left until Conclude begins.’

I remember the date the Starry Sky opens clearly.

December 24th, the night of the winter solstice.

‘Perform the ritual to call the Othergod on the night of the 24th, and be reborn as a Concluder on the 25th.’

The game always starts on December 25th, Christmas.

Those crazy bastards at ST Games set the day one becomes the leader of a pseudo-religion as ‘Christmas.’

‘Because of that, there were rumors that Conclude was a game made by Satanists.’

At first, fans just played around with memes like ‘Reason why Earth’s Concluder is Jesus: Born on Dec 25th.’

But then, some Christian—who knows where they found out—filed a petition to ban the sale of the game, citing various bizarre reasons and claiming ‘Conclude is a devil’s game.’

That ST stands for Satan, that Conclude promotes homosexuality and various crimes against humanity, that it was sponsored by Satanists…

Since the game couldn’t be purchased with domestic accounts anyway, users just laughed it off, saying, ‘There’s a game with a ban petition even though it was never allowed to be sold?!’

The problem was that when the petition gained no traction, this lunatic started promoting the petition across all sorts of communities by spreading the play records of those filthy possibility enthusiasts.

‘Until then, Mothergod Fanatics were the ones getting beaten down among the players.’

The promotion had the exact opposite effect of what that Christian had hoped for.

Posts like ‘I came here after seeing the ad’ and ‘Is this the top blasphemy spot certified by a Christian organization?’ began to appear, and the number of Mothergod Fanatics increased exponentially.

‘Thinking about it again makes me so pissed.’

If that hadn’t happened, the Mothergod Fanatics wouldn’t have proliferated so much.

‘The current prospective Contractor of Mother God is 99% likely to be a filthy possibility enthusiast.’

Anyone who pressed YES after seeing the condition that they could obtain something like the ‘Blessing of Mating’ had to be a possibility enthusiast.

The 1% was a generous allowance for the possibility that the mouse had slipped.

‘I absolutely do not want to meet a Mothergod Fanatic.’

“Status Window.”

[???]

: Hidden trait. Effect unknown.

The trait Mother had granted had shown no change for six months.

‘I guess she has no intention of finding me yet.’

Whether it was because I couldn’t activate the trait before becoming a Concluder, or because I was pushed down the priority list, the fact that it hadn’t activated yet meant there was a high probability it would remain quiet until Christmas.

‘If she were going to activate it, she would have done so already.’

If one intended to clear the game, they had to go all-in on preparing the contract with an Othergod before Christmas.

Even if only half of the 16 participants entered the competition, they would have to outmaneuver seven others; there was no way she had the leisure to hunt me down.

‘And if the trait is inactive, she can never find me.’

How could she possibly know that Serf #1, who has been doing nothing but farming for six months in a frontier village not even on the map, is a player?

Even the Order Sect cannot find such things.

‘I just need to get to the monastery before Christmas.’

Thinking this, I scattered chicken feed.

The chickens pecked at the feed aggressively.

Seeing the sun slowly rising, it seemed it was almost time to go study.

‘Come to think of it, for six months, I’ve just repeated waking up at dawn, working the fields, tending to the chickens, and going to study.’

Anyone watching would think I’d been reincarnated into a farming sim, not Conclude.

Had I ever lived such a disciplined life before?

I adjusted my straw hat and muttered.

“Is there anything I need to sow now?”

[When September is nearly over, winter barley and winter wheat must be planted.]

“If I plant winter barley now, when do I harvest it?”

[Winter barley is harvested from June to July, in the height of the hot summer.]

That won’t work then. I’ll be leaving this place before Christmas.

I looked up at the clear, cloudless sky.

“Will it rain soon?”

[The sky looks as if it won’t rain within three days. You should draw water in advance.]

“…Asking like this and getting farming tips really makes it feel like a farm game.”

It wasn’t actually a tip, but information extracted from the memories of this body, Fabio.

I looked around at the peaceful surrounding scenery. The land untouched by human hands was covered in grass reaching up to my waist.

Even though I hadn’t muttered anything, the Narration Window suddenly popped up and blocked my view.

[I should reclaim the land up to that rock and make it my field.]

“No, I’m not reclaiming it. I don’t have the strength.”

[No matter how busy you are, you must have the strength to turn over just one handful of soil more. Let’s do a little bit every day.]

“I said I don’t have the strength.”

[When you lack strength, thinking of the crops that will grow in that field will quickly revitalize you.]

“Maybe for you.”

I replied to myself.

That guy Fabio. A total farming addict.

At first, I was surprised, wondering if the original personality remained in the body I had taken over, but now I know it’s nothing more than a function that outputs sentences fitting the context.

Whenever I look at something he was attached to, a narration pops up.

Every time I see that rock, that same narration appears; it’s boring to death.

Initially, since I had taken over someone else’s body, I thought I should respect the wishes he had in life, but I gave up on that after three days.

‘Reclaiming land without an excavator is madness.’

I am not Fabio.

Moreover, even if I granted Fabio’s lifelong wish now, no one would be happy about it.

Including Fabio himself.

Even if I actually reclaimed the land up to the rock, nothing would happen.

The same narration would just keep outputting.

‘Still, it’s a relief that the only thing he was attached to was a field.’

If Fabio’s mother were still alive, how distressing would it have been?

If [My beloved mother] popped up every time I saw her face…

‘It’s a relief that Fabio is an orphan.’

Thinking this, I quickened my pace toward Antonio’s house.

* * *

Since I didn’t sow or reclaim any land, I had plenty of time left after my daily routine ended.

However, there was absolutely nothing to kill time with in this frontier village.

If the most interesting thing was watching clouds drift by, that said it all.

And right now, there weren’t even any clouds in the sky.

So, I was idling away the time at Antonio’s house.

“Fabio. Are you reading the 〈Book of Precedents〉 again?”

“Yes, Lord Antonio. The more I read the Book of Precedents, the deeper my understanding of Lord Loclem, the God of Judgment, seems to become, so I keep reading it.”

‘I’m actually reading it instead of a soap opera because there are so many crazy cases.’

Compared to pharmacy books or history texts, the Book of Precedents was a wonderful novel.

“It is always so strange to see you read silently. Your lips don’t even move.”

‘Ah, this is called silent reading.’

I chuckled inwardly, recalling the God-World Genre memes.

To be so worked up over simply reading a book without sound.

I knew that reading aloud was common in the Middle Ages, but I didn’t expect him to feel a culture shock over silent reading.

“It is nothing special.”

“No, in all my life, I have never seen someone read as quickly as you, Fabio. And to understand just by reading! You are surely a genius blessed by God!”

At Antonio’s excessive praise, I felt embarrassed and hid my face behind the book.

It’s not like this is actually a God-World novel, so what is he talking about?

I’m not a three-year-old; do you think I’d actually feel good from such absurd praise?

“I’m telling you, I’m not. If I were a genius, I would have already memorized the Sacred Script.”

“Ahem! The Sacred Script… even for a smart person, it cannot be learned that quickly.”

“But you said the fastest student you ever had was able to read the Bible on their own in a week.”

Antonio flinched at my words.

Did he not think I would remember that?

“I know best that I am not a genius. I only learned the common script faster than others; otherwise, I am ordinary.”

“No, I’m telling you, you really are a genius!”

“You taught me how to write, and now you’re surprised that I can read a book? How is that any different from teaching someone how to use a spoon and then being surprised that they can eat soup with it?”

“No, it is completely different!!”

Antonio felt frustrated, but he couldn’t refute my words.

Seeing him like that, I felt frustrated too.

‘How did someone who belongs in a God-World novel end up being born in the Dark Realm?’

The way his affinity shot up just from a few words, acting as if he’d give me his heart and soul, and the way he overreacted to obvious things—he really was a textbook resident of a God-World novel.

‘I’ll have to take good care of him so he doesn’t get scammed somewhere.’

* * *

If there was one thing ‘Fabio’ overlooked, it was the fact that ‘Fabio’ learning to read was completely different from an educated adult learning a new foreign language.

To compare, it was closer to a four-year-old learning to read for the first time.

If a four-year-old, who had never even heard of the alphabet, mastered Hangul in three days of teaching, that alone would be enough to be called a genius.

But for that child to read 〈The Selfish Gene〉 in one go and understand the content?

That could not be explained by the word ‘genius’ alone.

No matter how brilliant the mind, if they had never heard of ‘genes’ or ‘evolution,’ they should not have been able to understand the contents of the book.

Antonio had never felt as conflicted in his life as he did now.

‘…Fabio has never once asked about a word.’

Thus, when Antonio first saw Fabio flipping through the 〈Book of Precedents〉 silently, he thought he was just ‘pretending to read.’

Antonio found it quite endearing that Fabio was trying so hard to mimic reading a difficult book despite not knowing the letters well, so he smiled and asked a question about the content.

Expecting to see a flustered expression.

‘Fabio. Why do you think two murderers who committed similar crimes received different punishments?’

However, Fabio answered without even taking his eyes off the book.

‘Because one had the intent to kill, and the other did not.’

Hearing that answer, Antonio nearly fainted.

‘Fabio’ misunderstood that Antonio was surprised by the silent reading—because he didn’t think anyone would be surprised by an answer based on moral principles that even a ten-year-old knows—but the reason Antonio was panicked was that Fabio had ‘understood’ the book.

‘Surely, God has bestowed a blessing upon Fabio.’

Like a true medieval man, Antonio concluded that something he could not understand must be the intervention of a god. In the Dark Realm, where gods actually existed, that conclusion was often the most rational judgment.

‘But just which god could it be?’

Whenever he thought of that, Antonio felt a squeezing pain in his chest.

Telling Fabio that he could only be said to have learned to read if he could read the Bible was a lie.

Priests do not learn the Sacred Script. When one born with divine power receives Baptism, they naturally become able to read the Sacred Script.

The week it took to learn how to read the Bible referred to the time spent mastering the vocalization method to read rhythmically and elegantly.

‘Even if it is a blessing from a god who serves Lord Loclem, he should be able to read the Sacred Script….’

There are many gods who do not fall under Order, and those who received blessings from them haphazardly tended to have unfortunate ends.

Antonio did not want Fabio to end up that way.

One disciple burned to death was enough.

‘…I must write a letter to Casimir.’

From a box he hadn’t opened in a long time, Antonio took out a signet ring.

There was a deep scratch on the ring, signifying that the seal no longer held any authority.

10 – #010