novelraw Chapter 6: Fantasia
Chapter 6: Fantasia
As my eyes adjusted to the blinding light, a stunning cityscape emerged before my eyes. A city with architecture that seemed to blend various eras stretched wide. Buildings made of marble and crystal side by side. Streets paved with polished stone wound through the area in graceful patterns, leading to open plazas and ornate fountains. It was quite majestic, to say the least, but it felt quiet. Not many people could be seen moving through the streets.
“Whoa, what a strange city,” Boris commented, eyes wide with wonder as he took in the surreal surroundings.
“I heard that the royal capital is also a majestic city, but I’ve never seen it myself. This place is likely even more extravagant…” Michelle was even more awestruck.
The others were equally captivated, looking surprised and muttering to themselves.
“Welcome to Fantasia.”
A clear, confident voice broke through the moment, drawing our attention to a woman who approached us. She was dressed in a tailored office-like uniform while showing a warm, inviting smile.
I recognized her immediately. Or rather, I recognized what she was. She wasn’t human in the traditional sense. No, she was an NPC—a Non-Player Character. Technically speaking, these entities were once the souls of devout believers of the Goddess of Imagination who had been granted new forms to serve her within this divine realm.
“Who are you?” Boris asked.
The woman’s smile didn’t falter as she clasped her hands in front of her and introduced herself. “I am Elysia, your designated guide to Fantasia. It is my duty to assist new divine warriors by introducing you to the city and helping you understand the intricate rules of Divine Will.”
Boris scratched his head, clearly unsure of how to respond. “A guide, huh? That’s… convenient.”
Michelle stepped forward as curiosity seemed to overcome her hesitation. “If you’re here to help, can you tell us what exactly this place is? Lady Raphael gave us some explanation, but… Why does this place feel… empty?”
Elysia’s expression remained unchanged, as though she had anticipated the question. “Fantasia is the City of Imagination, a sanctuary crafted by the Goddess of Imagination herself for her loyal divine warriors. As for its current state…” She gestured toward the quiet streets. “This is but a fragment of what Fantasia once was.”
That’s not entirely true.
It wasn’t that what she said was impossible, but I knew better. For one, her explanation was overly dramatic, almost as if she were trying to win our sympathy.“In any case, we welcome you here, and I shall guide you through the city. Please, follow me closely.” Elysia beckoned to us and began walking in a graceful manner.
We fell in line behind her, and as we walked, I noticed figures watching us from elevated ground not far away. Their gazes were sharp, assessing all of us from head to toe.
“This reminds me of the old days,” Boris muttered, his eyes fixed on the figures above. “In prison, older inmates would scrutinize fresh arrivals and jeer at them to show superiority.”
Wait, how do you know that? I thought, raising an eyebrow at him.
But rather than dwelling on his suspiciously specific knowledge, I shifted my focus to the people leaning on the steel railings above us. Among them, one stood out the most—a dark-skinned, burly man clad in thick leather armor. A jagged scar ran across his face, and his arms were crossed over his chest. He had the look of a professional mercenary, though not the modern kind I was familiar with back on Earth. More importantly, he seemed to be the leader of this group of divine warriors who were watching us. What a bunch of rotten eggs.
As I thought, it’s not that this place used to be something greater. It’s just that Istellia is a new god!
Even though the scarred man that I decided to dub “Scarface” looked stronger than even Boris, he wasn’t as threatening as he might seem. Based on my estimation, he was likely a Gimmel-rank divine warrior—only two ranks above us.
Still, Istellia’s status as a fledgling god was troubling, as there was a severe lack of strong divine warriors here. Not to mention the complete absence of divine heroes. That was a glaring vulnerability. Once the “Grace Period” granted to new gods expired, stronger, older gods could launch an assault through the Battle of Divine Will and strip Istellia of everything she had, including her divinity.
If that happened, it would be her end. And by extension, mine too!
But at the same time, this could be my chance.
“Um, they’re watching and talking about us…” Michelle said suddenly, her shoulders tense as she cast a wary glance upward.
“Ignore them,” I replied flatly. It wasn’t weird for new players—or, in this case, divine warriors—to draw attention, especially in a small and newly established divine realm like this. Whether they were simply curious, judgmental, or even malicious, it didn’t matter. What mattered was staying vigilant.
“Relax, young miss,” Boris said with a confident laugh. “If they dare make trouble, I’ll teach ’em a lesson.”
Just then, one of the people above whistled. “Look at these fresh meat.”
“Yeah, except that guy,” another chimed in, gesturing toward Boris. “The rest look weak. I bet they’ll die in no time at all.”
“With a hundred soul coins bein’ deducted each day, they’ll last, what? Five days max if they don’t eat or find shelter,” added a man with a mohawk, his gaze lingering on Michelle and the entitled woman. His lips curled into a lecherous grin. “Haha! Those two don’t look so bad, though. I don’t mind ‘taking care’ of ‘em.”
I frowned. Interesting. So that’s the strategy Istellia is implementing.
After completing the first scenario, everyone was given five hundred soul coins. It seemed this currency wasn’t just for trading—it was a lifeline. A daily deduction of one hundred coins meant survival was on a timer. But what would happen if anyone were to run out of coins?
Well, every god had their own unique ways of managing their realms, but I was pretty sure that the most common punishment was death.
I glanced back at the crowd and noticed the entitled woman eyeing Scarface with a look of interest. It didn’t take much to figure out her intentions—she was likely planning to do to him what she had hinted at doing to me earlier, all in the name of securing protection. But that was none of my concern.
Elysia seemed oblivious—or perhaps indifferent—to the onlookers as she continued her explanation while leading us deeper into the city. “Fantasia is divided into several districts based on rank, ranging from District A to District F. Each district offers resources, training grounds, and places of respite, but the quality and variety of features improve significantly as you move toward District A.”
“How can we improve our ranks and move to a higher district?” I asked. The question was more rhetorical than anything, as I already had a good idea of the answer, but I decided to ask anyway to make myself less suspicious.
“The only way to ascend is through class advancement and by proving yourselves in the scenarios,” Elysia replied without missing a beat.
“Class advancement?” Michelle tilted her head.
“Yes,” Elysia said with a faint smile. “Most divine warriors start at the lowest class—Novice. By gaining levels and meeting specific requirements in scenarios, you can advance your class. Each advancement brings increased power, better privileges, and, naturally, access to higher districts.”
It was exactly as I had expected—another system centered on performance and growth, a standard setup for divine realms like this. Though, in truth, the methodology felt a bit outdated compared to what I and several others had designed in the past.
“Novice?” Boris muttered in confusion.
“Did you get a different class?” I asked.
“Mm.” He nodded. “My class is ‘Apprentice Martial Artist.’”
“I see.” The fact that he already got a different class was within my expectations. But it was still an Aleph-rank class, which meant that Boris’ power was not at the level of an extraordinary human—something I deemed likely for humans from Earth.
“For now, I’m guiding you to the Hall of Classes, which is located in the main plaza,” Elysia continued, gesturing ahead toward a grand building styled in classic Greek architecture, with tall columns lining up its exterior. “There, you’ll have the opportunity to change your starting class to a better class of the same rank that better suits your roles. The hall also serves as a place to acquire information about future potential advancements. Of course, there will be a fee for accessing its services.”
“Hellooo.” The entitled woman called out in a singsong tone. “I’m not in the least bit interested in this class change and advancement nonsense. Just guide me to wherever I can rest already. My feet are killing me, and my head is about to explode after everything we’ve been through,” she whined, tossing her hair dramatically for added effect.
Elysia’s polite smile didn’t waver as she nodded. “Very well. I shall escort you to the lodgings.” She turned and began to lead the woman away.
“Er… I’m also in desperate need of a healer who can help me. Can you direct me to a place where I can reattach my arm?” Rex chimed in, looking to be still in pain while holding his severed arm. Although it hadn’t been twenty minutes, Rex did indeed need to have his arm fixed as soon as possible. The longer he waited, the slimmer his chances of a successful reattachment even with magic.
Elysia stopped mid-step and turned her gaze to Rex. “Of course. There is a healing ward located near the Hall of Classes. They specialize in such procedures, but be aware—restorative magic of this level requires significant payment.”
“I figured,” Rex muttered under his breath, grimacing as he clutched the bandaged stump.
“Then please follow me.” Elysia continued, glancing briefly at the entitled woman, who seemed more irritated by the interruption than concerned about Rex’s predicament.
With a slight nod, Rex fell silent, his lips pressed into a thin line as he endured the pain. Watching this unfold, I couldn’t help but shake my head. Rex’s situation was dire, but I had to admit—his perseverance had earned him a sliver of respect. Meanwhile, the old man, who had remained silent thus far, nodded toward me and the others before following their group.
Well, I wasn’t a saint nor a hero—I was formerly a god. Even if I knew what was best for them, I wouldn’t go out of my way to impose it. They were free to make their own choices, and their well-being was of little concern to me.
“Come on,” I said to Michelle and Boris. “Let’s check out the Hall of Classes. I’m certain it’s crucial for us to do so.”
Both Michelle and Boris voiced their agreement, and we headed toward the hall together. As we approached, I studied the building. It was grand and imposing, its design likely meant to inspire awe and convey the gravity of this so-called game. If nothing else, it made one thing painfully clear: We were insignificant in this place.
Just as we were about to enter, three figures with obviously malicious intentions stepped in front of us.
“Stop there, you three!”