Their Respective Situations

Mr. Mystery is about to become a True God. If I help him promote the Steam Engine, he'll raise my class level to 21 after his ascension... Fiona Russell closed her eyes and absorbed the information in the projection.

Everyone is so strong. I'm the weakest one.

"Projection!" Howard Russell recognized it at once. "You went adventuring with a projection?"

"That's right." Fiona Russell deliberately blinked and played along with her father. "My teacher said that if I use a projection to go adventuring, any danger I run into won't harm my real body."

Projections were not completely safe. If one was attacked by a god, a Demon Lord, or an Elder Evil, its caster could still be injured or even killed.

But my daughter was adventuring on the Main Plane. She shouldn't have run into any of those powerful beings from beyond the planes... Howard Russell's smile deepened the lines beside his mouth. "Did you have fun?"

"I learned a lot." She had never imagined she would see a god, let alone witness the impending rise of a New God. That was something she would never have seen among the nobles of Kishiniur.

But how should I carry out Mr. Mystery's request?

Fiona Russell began to think.

Father is a duke with considerable influence in the kingdom, but I'm not the heir to the Russell Family. I don't have many resources at my disposal... Hmm. I'll start with Father.

After taking a moment to choose her words, Fiona Russell said, "What shocked me most was something that appeared in the Holy Vixima Kingdom. It's called the Steam Engine."

"The Steam Engine?" Howard Russell frowned slightly.

How does my daughter know about the Steam Engine?

Fiona Russell chose her words carefully. "I don't know much about the Steam Engine, but I have a feeling it will become commonplace across the continent."

Mr. Mystery is so powerful. The Steam Engine he created is bound to spread across the whole continent sooner or later, isn't it?

"Your feeling is wrong, Fiona." Howard Russell smiled. "The Steam Engine won't become commonplace in this world."

"Why not?" Fiona Russell asked, plainly puzzled.

Seeing his daughter's questioning look, Howard Russell smiled. "Because some people don't want the Steam Engine to spread across the continent."

He thought of the gods who had delivered divine revelations an hour earlier and added, "And they are great beings."

Ah, gods are hostile to the Steam Engine? Can Mr. Mystery still succeed? Well, if that Highness is willing to help, his chances should still be good.

But how am I supposed to carry out Mr. Mystery's request? This is giving me a headache.

Fiona Russell sighed inwardly but kept an elegant smile on her face. "Dad, I heard you have something to do. You should go."

Howard Russell gave his daughter an indulgent smile. "Yes, Dad needs to see the finance minister. I'll be off, then."

Azlik City, Holy Vixima Kingdom.

Disguised as a middle-aged craftsman, Ieta Cavendish covered his wrist, concealing the white light there.

One request? What a generous Highness. All I did was provide him with information. It was such a small thing, yet he gave me his promise.

"Join us. Become our brother." The craftsman speaking to him was just as disheveled as he was. His bearded face wore a guileless smile, and his voice carried a sacred quality. "My lord, Gond Frank, the God of Craftsmen, thinks highly of you. I can promise that if you join the Church of the Three Gods, you'll become a bishop at once, and your Priest level will rise to 20. One day, you could even contend for the position of patriarch."

You even used Compulsion on me. You certainly do think highly of me. If I really were an ordinary craftsman, you'd have brainwashed me into a fanatic of the God of Craftsmen by now.

Ieta Cavendish sneered inwardly. And you spoke the God of Craftsmen's name outright. He must be watching this place now.

These gods have noses as keen as Hyenas. Even though I used the Prophecy Crown in a ritual drawing on the Lord of Dawn's lingering divine power to conceal the future, they still sensed a shift in their own fate when the Steam Engine was born.

"I'm willing to join." Ieta Cavendish deliberately filled his voice with awe and fervor. "I'm willing to devote everything I have to the great God of Craftsmen, Gond Frank, even my life."

The craftsman's honest face broke into a smile. He held out his hand. "From today on, we're brothers. Brothers who live and die together."

Ieta Cavendish gripped it firmly with his other hand.

"Brother!" Ieta Cavendish murmured as though talking in his sleep.

Graycastle.

Avram Krell, holding a paper figure between two fingers, felt a headache coming on. "A believer of the Dark Sun, of all things... Good thing I have that Highness's protection."

He thought for a long while, then turned, walked to a gray wooden door, and knocked.

"Come in." A reply came after only a few knocks.

Avram Krell pushed the door open. An elderly man with graying hair and black clerical robes sat inside, reading a book. Avram spoke respectfully. "Archbishop Barnis, I've heard some rumors about the death of the former bishop of the Kedag Diocese."

He was not worried that the Archbishop would question where his information came from or whether it was true.

The Krell family wielded broad influence throughout the Seven Northern Kingdoms. It was only natural for them to have secret channels through which they could learn things the church did not know.

Although joining the church had automatically cost him his status as heir to the Krell family, he could still draw on some of its resources.

"The god worshiped by the Church of the One seems to be connected to the Dark Sun."

"The Dark Sun..." Awe crossed Barnis's weathered face.

Though that powerful evil god had long since fallen, Graycastle's records of the Fourth Era still described the Dark Sun's might.

"Is the Dark Sun returning?"

Barnis gave Avram Krell a long look. "I'll verify it. If the god worshiped by the Church of the One truly is connected to the Dark Sun, the Inquisitors will go with you to the Kedag Diocese to purge its believers. Evil gods buried by history should stay buried."

"Yes."

Avram Krell nodded and left. After he was gone, Archbishop Barnis continued turning the pages.

Something stirred on the drab, coverless book. A line of characters, vivid as blood, appeared.

"The Book of Cyric..."