novelraw Chapter 113: Spreading the Seed of Faith
Chapter 113: Spreading the Seed of Faith
Ruu was just one of the lizardmen escaping from the pursuit of the Green Webber Tribe. His chest burned, every breath scraping his throat raw as mud splashed beneath his clawed feet. Around him, his tribesmen fell one after another—skewered by spears, dragged screaming into the muck, their cries cut short by the croaks of their pursuers.
He dared not look back, but the sounds haunted him. The wet crunch of bone. The pitiful hisses of his kin. The triumphant laughter-like howls of the frogmen. His legs trembled, thin from hunger, yet he forced them to keep moving.
A splash nearby made him flinch. He glanced sideways just in time to see his cousin topple, a javelin jutting from her back. “No!” Ruu’s cry came out as a ragged rasp, but there was nothing he could do. If he stopped, he would die next.
Why? Just why would my tribe be hunted like this? Ruu thought in despair. All he wanted was to live happily with his kin, to eat a lot of fish, and to see the hatchlings of the tribe grow strong. Yet the world seemed intent on crushing even those small dreams beneath its feet.
The swamp reeked of blood and despair. The sound of his tribesmen falling behind—cut down one by one—echoed in his ears. Their weapons were nothing more than useless twigs, their ribs sharper than their blades. Each attempt to fight back ended the same: hunted down like animals in a game. There was no hope, only the grim certainty that the Green Webbers would wipe them out.
Still, some part of him clung stubbornly to life, even as despair gnawed at his heart. If only there was someone—or something—that would save him and his tribe. He would give everything he had in return.
And then the earth itself seemed to groan, as though answering his silent plea.
From the darkness ahead, a figure emerged—a tall lizardman, yet unlike any Ruu had ever seen. Its scales shimmered with a violet sheen, gleaming as if touched by otherworldly light. The figure’s frame towered above even the strongest and largest of their kin, and the very air around it carried an intangible weight, a divine pressure that crushed the will of any who dared to gaze upon it.
The frogmen slowed down a bit, sensing the change. But fueled by desperation, they didn’t hesitate as they charged at the towering lizardman. However, before those frogmen could get close, they collapsed into the puddle, pinned as if being pressed down by an unseen force. Then, with a speed Ruu’s eyes could not follow, more than a dozen bolts of radiant light tore through the air, piercing cleanly through the necks of their prey. The hunters had become the hunted.
Screams and croaks dissolved into silence as the frogmen fell, blood spilling into the stagnant water. In less than a breath, the warriors of the Green Webber Tribe that were hunting them like animals lay slain where they stood.
Ruu froze, staring wide-eyed. His limbs refused to move. His heart pounded, not with fear of the frogmen anymore, but with awe and terror at the being before him.
A god. That was the only word that came to mind.
He didn’t know who was the first among them to initiate it, but before he realized it, his own body had dropped to its knees before the towering lizardman in reverence. His blood screamed at him, whispering that the figure standing there was of a higher order than himself. What else could it be, if not a god?
Around him, the few surviving lizardmen followed suit, collapsing to their knees one after another. Their foreheads pressed into the mud, not out of fear, but out of instinct—an undeniable pull to worship.
Ruu’s throat was dry, yet the words slipped out. “O… god…”
The moment he spoke it aloud, the thought spread like fire through the others. Murmurs rose, shaky at first, then stronger, voices trembling as they repeated the same word. A single title, carried by desperation and awe, echoed across the swamp.
***
I was surprised to see that every single one of the lizardmen I had saved from the frogmen dropped to their knees, uttering the word “god” in reverence. Well, it wasn’t all that shocking; this was the natural course of action for a simple tribe like the lizardmen. Unlike humans, I didn’t need to persuade them with elaborate speeches or doctrine. For them, pure strength was proof enough. Show overwhelming might, and I would be revered as divine.
Adding to that, the mask was mimicking a race higher than lizardmen—dragonewts. Unfortunately, its power was limited. The only racial trait I gained was the ability to understand their tongue. No enhanced physique, no trace of dragon bloodline power… I didn’t even get the power to fly, as the form it granted me lacked wings altogether. Perhaps if the mask were a grade higher, I might have inherited the fundamental abilities of the race I was impersonating. But for now, that was simply beyond reach.
Without wasting words, I disappeared into the shadows through Stealth Movements. My form blurred before their eyes as I draped the cursed coat. To them, it would look as though their god had vanished after striking down their enemies—aloof, untouchable, and beyond comprehension. That was exactly the impression I wanted to leave behind.
Still, I was aware of my limits. For all my theatrics, I was merely a Gimmel-rank divine warrior. I didn’t yet have the means to manifest miracles without cost, nor could I linger too long without exposing myself. This was the best I could do with the tools I had.
From a distance, I watched as the lizardmen slowly rose, still filled with awe and disbelief. Some touched the mud where I had stood, as though hoping to capture a trace of my presence. Others clasped their hands together, whispering fervent prayers into the damp air.
But one among them acted differently. He did not fumble in reverence like the rest. Instead, his gaze fixed on the place where I had vanished, his fist clenched firmly over his chest. That conviction set him apart. I was certain that, should nothing hinder his path, he would become the cornerstone of faith spreading among this tribe.
“Interesting. Then I shall give you a gift,” I murmured, pointing toward him as I activated Grant Plausibility.
You have used Grant Plausibility.
You have permanently enhanced the target’s growth potential.
A total of 75 Plausibility has been consumed.
With this, the first true seed of faith had been sown.
***
There were far more groups of thin, starving lizardmen that I ended up saving from the relentless pursuit of the frogmen. As it turned out, a lizardman tribe known as the Red Scale Tribe was on the brink of extinction, hunted down by the Green Webber Tribe after their village had been destroyed only a few days prior. The surviving remnants were desperately trying to reach the edge of the swamp, hoping to establish a new settlement there.
Aside from them, I also came across a couple of frogmen villages belonging to the Green Webber Tribe scattered throughout the area. Fortunately for me, each of them had one to two shrines with a crude totem, each dedicated to their deity. With the Mask of a Thousand Races, I disguised myself as one of their kind and easily siphoned the faith contained within, all while cloaked by the cursed coat and aided by Stealth Movements.
Through this, I managed not only to accumulate plausibility but also to level up my level as well as level up a number of my skills, such as Stealth Movements, Phantom Blade, and Basic Neutral Magic.
Maximillian Anderson Lv. 33/60 (EXP 346/3,720)
HP: 100%
MP: 701/701
Rank: Gimmel [3]
Patron God: Istellia (Goddess of Imagination)
Class: Paradox Incarnate
Title: One Who Conquered the Impossible (6)
Status: Normal
Strength: 349 + 37 + 35 | Dexterity: 352 + 24 + 35 | Stamina: 300 + 25 + 30
Mind: 218 + 22 | Magic Power: 309 + 5 + 31 | Luck: 305 + 31
Plausibility: 724
Free Attributes: 278
Signature Skill(s): [Absorb Plausibility], [Fabled Vessel], [God!$# Creation], [Grant Plausibility], [Gravity Magic Lv.3], [Scenario Manipulation]
Skill(s): [Assassination Arts Lv.1], [Basic Alchemy Lv.7], [Basic Cryo Magic Lv.6], [Basic Dagger/Knife Mastery Lv.1], [Basic Hand-to-Hand Combat Lv.7], [Basic Neutral Magic Lv.9], [Basic Shield Mastery Lv.8], [Back Stab Lv.4], [Berserk Lv.3], [Calm Mind], [Chantless Casting Lv.3], [Desperate Willpower Lv.8], [Divine Sermon Lv.1], [Extraordinary Agility], [Extraordinary Endurance], [Extraordinary Fortune], [Extraordinary Magic Power], [Extraordinary Memory], [Extraordinary Power], [Fast Equip], [Heavy Slash Lv.7], [Heavy Stab Lv.6], [Inspect Eye Lv.3], [Intermediate Spearmanship Lv.2], [Intermediate Swordsmanship Lv.3], [Inventory], [Mana Manipulation Lv.7], [Mana Sense Lv.8], [Mental Tolerance Lv.5], [Negotiation Lv.6], [Night Vision], [Pain Tolerance Lv.6], [Paralysis Resistance Lv.3], [Phantom Blade Lv.2], [Poison Resistance Lv.3], [Projectile Defense Lv.3], [Predator’s Step Lv.4], [Shield Bash Lv.1], [Stealth Movements Lv.3], [Weapon Manifestation Lv.3], [Wind Rush Lv.6]
Spell(s): {Frozen Icicle}, {Graviton Pull}, {Gravity Field}, {Mana Arrow}, {Mana Bullet}, {Mass Alteration}, {Spinning Mana Arrow}
I had a considerable number of free attribute points to spare, and since there was no reason to keep so many in reserve, I decided to allocate some into the Mind and Luck stats. The former was my weakest point, and many of my skills demanded mental strength to activate. As for Luck, there was no such thing as having too much of it, especially since it couldn’t be raised through conventional means.
Mind: 218 → 250
Luck: 305 → 350
That aside, from both the frogmen’s totems and their conversations, I learned that the guardian deity of their tribe was a lake monster. Based on their description, I deduced it was most likely a Daleth-rank monster of at least level 150 (level 121 being the minimum level of a Daleth-rank monster).
For now, I judged it unwise to confront such a foe. I neither had the confidence nor the desire to fight it alone unless I went all out, and even then, the outcome was uncertain. It would be like fighting Eikthyrnir all over again. Instead, I decided it was far more useful to be left alive. Should other divine warriors venture into the Great Wilderness, that monster could serve as a shield, deterring them from intruding too deeply. In the meantime, my faith would have the chance to grow and spread among the lizardmen without interference.
I felt there was no need to interfere with the conflict between the two tribes any further. The lizardmen of the Red Scale Tribe should be safe for the time being. I had already slain a considerable number of frogmen, enough that they wouldn’t be able to mount another attack anytime soon.
Still, the thought nagged at me: coming back and forth between locations just to collect faith was terribly inefficient. If only there were a skill that could gather their faith directly and convert it into plausibility more effectively…
“If only I still had a shred of my divinity… Wait, it’s not impossible to create something like that using that skill… I should test that later when I have more spare time.” What I referred to was none other than my first signature skill, the one I had deliberately refrained from using due to my limited plausibility.
Unfortunately, despite combing through the swamp, I hadn’t come across any structure resembling the Forgotten Vault. That meant it was likely hidden elsewhere in the Great Wilderness. I would have to ask Boris and Michelle if they had encountered anything unusual. By now, they should be finishing their leveling sessions, which made me curious just how much stronger they had become.
With that thought, I headed back toward the rendezvous location.