The Gods’ Gacha Game: Return of the God-King

Chapter 96: Confirming the Pieces

As soon as my vision cleared, I recognized my surroundings. Around us, other divine warriors were coming and going, but none spared us more than a passing glance. To them, we were just another party completing another scenario.

“Congratulations on clearing the sixth scenario, divine warriors,” Elysia greeted us with her usual serene smile in place.

That smile again. At this point, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was nothing but a mask concealing something deeper. But that wasn’t important to think about. What mattered now was the shift in the world around us—the rising sun spilling faint light across Fantasia’s sky. A whole day seemed to have passed here, and it was early morning.

“Mm. Thank you,” I replied simply, moving to the side so as not to block the way.

Beside me, Boris stretched with a groan, his joints cracking audibly. “Gahaha! That desert is nothing at all! But…” He frowned faintly, rubbing his chin. “Why does it feel like it ended faster than I thought?”

Michelle exhaled softly, relief flashing across her face. “That was worse than I expected. And now that I think about it… the last twenty hours or so, it felt like they passed almost twice as fast.”

My stomach tightened. Crap, they’re sharper than I give them credit for.

I brushed off her words with a casual shrug. “Who knows. Maybe it’s just our feelings. After all, we spent most of the time training. Days always feel shorter when you’re busy.”

“Yeah, that might be it,” Michelle agreed with a small nod.

Boris, too, scratched the back of his neck and grunted, clearly satisfied with the explanation.

I seized the chance to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Anyway, let’s sell some of our loot to the store and buy supplies. After that, we regroup at Tuilë’s workshop. How about it?”

“Sounds good to me,” Michelle said, her expression brightening a little. “I’ve been wanting to upgrade my special arrows anyway. The fight with the giant sandworm proved my stock is still lacking.”

“Ha! And I could use someone tough to spar with me,” Boris added, cracking his knuckles with a grin. “After that fight with the sandworm, I realized my steel form isn’t perfect yet. Gotta push it further.”

We walked together through the streets of Fantasia. Morning had settled fully now, the city stirring with activity. Merchants opened stalls and hawked goods, the smell of roasted meat and spiced bread drifting into the air. Divine warriors mingled with locals, bartering, boasting, and preparing for their next scenarios. The scene was a sharp contrast to the silent desert of the sixth scenario.

Our first stop was the trading post in the main plaza. We almost never used this place to sell loot—the last time, I had debts to settle with Igor by selling our loot in his store. Still, this time was different.

Inside, the air was cooler, the sound of clinking coins and bargaining voices filling the hall. The polished wooden counters stretched across the hall, lined with divine warriors selling their loot. We stepped to the empty counter and began unloading the excess loot we’d gathered, including items from the earlier scenarios that we’d left unsold. Scorpion carapaces, venom sacs, sandworm hide, the tree barks from the treants in the fifth scenario, and many other things. Some materials, of course, like the high-quality hide and venom sacs, I kept tucked away for future crafting.

The clerk inspected the pile quickly, his quill scratching across parchment as he tallied the goods with expertise. After a moment, he glanced up.

“You’ll get 3,040 soul coins for this lot,” he announced flatly.

I, of course, knew that he was lowballing the price. The people of this place always did, even more so than the stores where I had sold my loot before. Thus, I leaned slightly forward, keeping my tone firm. “Don’t try to play me. I know the real value of these materials. If you don’t raise the offer, I’ll take this to another shop.”

You have used Negotiation.

The clerk hesitated, but after a pause, he sighed and relented. “Very well. Three thousand seven hundred and fifty soul coins. That is the highest we can go.”

“Fair enough,” I replied, accepting the pouch of soul coins he offered. The coins jingled pleasantly as I weighed them in my hand before dividing the cut evenly between the three of us.

Negotiation has leveled up.

Soul Coins: 6,620

Afterward, we split up to procure supplies and handle our own errands before regrouping at Tuilë’s workshop to let her know we had cleared the sixth scenario. Michelle headed straight for the arrow store where she purchased her special arrows. Boris, meanwhile, with his usual grin, made his way to a liquor store, muttering that if he had to endure long stretches inside the scenarios, he’d at least do it with some good drink in hand.

As for me, I made my way toward District F to check on the Genesis Order. Slipping on the Mask of a Thousand Faces and cloaking myself in the cursed coat, I assumed the familiar disguise before meeting Rex. Everything was progressing smoothly, just as I had directed. Before long, I found myself standing before the figurine of Istellia I had left behind for worship.

Only two days had passed since its placement, yet already faint waves of faith power pulsed from it. My lips curved slightly as I reached out to touch the cold surface.

“Let’s try absorbing this…” I muttered.

You have absorbed the power of faith contained in the figurine.

You have gained 65 Plausibility.

As expected of faith offered by divine warriors, it carries far more weight than that of barely sentient monsters. Even in just two days, the amount of plausibility gathered was quite considerable.

I delivered a sermon before the gathered members of the Genesis Order. This time, I didn’t rely on Fabled Vessel to possess Ezekiel’s power because I already possessed the Divine Sermon skill, and since there was nothing critical to announce. Once the sermon concluded, I unveiled the faceless god’s statue and placed it before them, instructing the members to offer their devotion to it along with Istellia’s figurine. Their gazes lingered on it with reverence, the seeds of faith taking deeper root.

Before leaving, I handed Rex another pouch of one thousand soul coins. “Distribute this as needed,” I told him. His eyes widened with gratitude, and the murmurs of the faithful rose behind him as I turned to depart.

In the future, they wouldn’t need monetary support anymore, as more and more divine warriors in the Order were beginning to challenge the scenarios. After all, attempting a new one each week was mandatory. Before the god’s decree, founding a cult like this would have been nearly impossible—people wouldn’t willingly throw themselves into danger. I had to praise my brilliant mind for giving me such a golden opportunity.

Naturally, this weekly cycle of forced scenarios couldn’t last forever. Scenarios beyond the tenth would demand careful planning and long-term strategy. Each one would be exponentially harder than the last, and assuming they could be cleared as easily as the first ten was nothing short of suicide. Even the sixth scenario had already been far more brutal than those before it. Well, the fifth was an exception, since I had lit all five altars and trivialized the fight, but still…

I didn’t waste time on detours and went straight to Tuilë’s workshop. Near the entrance, I found Michelle waiting, idly looking at a display of goods from other stores and shops.

“Got anything that caught your interest?” I asked as I approached.

She shook her head. “Not really. The weapons and equipment we got from Tuilë are more than enough. Additionally, I still have one unused Unique-Grade Armament Voucher. So instead, I’ve been thinking about buying magic tools. Some of them look really useful, like a magic tent that can shield you from heavy rain or even extreme temperatures. But…” She hesitated slightly. “I’ve never owned a magic tool in my life, so I don’t know what’s worth investing in.”

“I see…” I nodded thoughtfully, considering her words. As the daughter of a lumberjack in a remote village, it was only natural that Michelle had never encountered magic tools, let alone magic weapons. For people like her, such things were luxuries reserved for nobles, wealthy merchants, and mages. Perhaps it would be prudent for us to seek out a mage to join the party, someone capable of bridging that gap in knowledge and equipment.

Technically, I could fill in that gap, but I was more of a jack of all trades. There was also Tuilë, who was a Magic Engineer, though her specialty leaned heavily toward support and crafting rather than direct combat. Still, her skills were invaluable. And since most scenarios were designed for five-man parties, there was still one open slot. The thought of recruiting another divine warrior that could be useful to me appeared in my mind.

At any rate, Boris was nowhere in sight, so Michelle and I went ahead and approached the workshop. Just as we reached for the door handle, a sharp explosion rattled the frame, followed by a puff of smoke seeping through the window and the smoke pipe on the ceiling. A boyish voice rang out inside, sharp and exasperated.

“I told you not to be rough with it!”

“Teehee.”

“What do you mean ‘teehee’? That was a delicate stabilizer core! Do you have any idea how hard it is to replace one of those?!” the boy’s voice cracked with indignation.

Michelle and I exchanged a glance before I pushed the door open. Inside, the familiar chaos of Tuilë’s workshop greeted us. Tools, gears, and half-finished projects littered every available surface, the air thick with smoke and the tang of burnt metal as well as mana residue.

In the middle of it all stood Tuilë, brushing soot from her hair and oversized gloves. Beside her was a boy no older than twelve or thirteen, his shoulder-length blue hair hanging messily around his face. He wore a white mage’s robe, now covered in dust and scorch marks, its sleeves singed at the edges. His sharp expression was one of pure frustration, as though the explosion had been a personal insult.

Tuilë noticed us first and waved cheerfully, completely unfazed by the smoke curling toward the ceiling. “Oh! You’re back already! Welcome, welcome!”

The boy, however, turned toward us with a slight scowl and a haughty tilt of his chin. “Who are you supposed to be? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Michelle raised an eyebrow at his tone. “So young, yet so full of pride… he reminds me of a mage who once visited my village.”

Tuilë burst out laughing, planting her hands on her hips. “Don’t mind him. This brat likes to puff up his chest and brag, but he’s harmless enough.”

The boy snapped, his cheeks coloring. “Hey! Who are you calling a brat?! I am Lucian Arkwright, the genius mage of the Amethyst Magic Tower, just so you know!”

“Amethyst-whatever Tower? Never heard of it.” Tuilë shrugged casually. “No matter how many times you repeat it, if I’ve never heard of the place, then as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t exist.”

“You…!” The boy’s face flushed red as he fumed, practically trembling with indignation.