Anyway, after that, Bard got completely wasted, and I decided to leave him behind before he became too much to handle.
Drunk Bard lost all his dignity and became a pathetic sight. He whined about how Persephone was scary or something, refusing to let me go.
"Move it, old man! Stop clinging to my pants! Your son is going to curse me too at this rate."
"I never had a son like that!"
"But he is your son!"
After exchanging a few shouts, I barely managed to peel Bard off me and left.
It had been a while since I last drank, so the alcohol seemed to be sitting well with me. Feeling good, I swaggered over and opened the gate to my farm.
Belsus, who was sitting on a bench, saw me and stood up with a beaming smile. It was a bit of an overreaction, but maybe because I was tipsy, it felt satisfying. I approached him with a goofy grin.
"You've drank quite a bit. Hurry up and get some sleep."
Drink? Barely. I'm perfectly fine. Plus, since Bard got wasted so early and I had to leave so soon, I was left wanting more. I smacked my lips as I drank the water Belsus handed me.
"Do you want to have a drink with me, too?"
Belsus's eyes brightened as if he had been waiting for that.
If he was going to react like that, why did he tell me to go sleep?
---
"That old man is seriously weird... I asked if she was his lover, and he yelled that she was his daughter. So I was like, 'Oh, okay...' But isn't Persephone a guy? So then I asked if he was his son, right? But he hated that too. Yelled again. So what does he want...? He likes daughters but hates sons? Well, I guess I get that..."
A tipsy Heean slurred his words.
Blinking his eyes open and shut slowly, he rested his elbows on the table, nodding off as if he would collapse face-first at any second. Yet, his mouth didn't take a break.
This was the fifth time he had repeated the exact same thing.
He looked like a child, which was cute. Belsus gently took the shot glass from his hand and replaced it with a glass of water.
"What that old man says changes every time... It's really weird..."
Even to Belsus, Bard's attitude was perplexing. It didn't seem like it was just because he was drunk, either.
He had said he wanted to make him his daughter. But he was a son. He hated it when he was referred to as a son. He said he wished his son was a castrato...?
Belsus thought of a single hypothesis. He blurted it out without much thought.
"Persephone is a man. Right?"
"Uhh-huh... I don't want to believe it, but..."
"Even so, couldn't they be lovers? Judging from the anecdotes so far, Persephone probably likes him more..."
Blink, blink. Heean's heavy eyelids fluttered with effort.
"Whaaaat?"
He immediately kicked off his chair and stood up, looking like he was going to crush the table.
Belsus flinched in surprise at his violently repulsed reaction.
"No, I was just a little shocked. Because I've never seen homosexuals before."
...Why was it? Belsus felt a strange sense of unease. It felt like a cold sweat was running down his spine.
"I mean, it's not like I think it's weird, and we're all the same humans... But still, seeing it for the first time, it can be a bit unfamiliar and startling, right? No?"
"..."
"You're very open-minded. Very broad-minded."
The drunken Heean rested his chin on the table and looked up at Belsus. The way he giggled was different from usual, and it lingered in Belsus's vision for a long time.
Belsus, who had jumped up following Heean... froze as if he were broken, then slumped back down. The chair let out a strained Creak!, but he didn't hear it.
"Heean, are you perhaps heterosexual?"
"Well, isn't that obvious? Aren't you a bit too open-minded? Normally, wouldn't the probability of being straight be higher anyway?"
He used his Reading ability. ...It was the undeniable truth. Heean's words.
Belsus's 'gift box' of hope had been riddled with deep cracks for a while now.
Belsus had refused to look closely at those fractures. If he didn't look at the cracks that he wasn't even sure existed, he could just enjoy the pleasing existence of a pretty gift box.
The price for turning a blind eye to a small truth was severe.
Belsus couldn't fall asleep that night.
---
It seems that mister, Bard, completely failed at raising his kid too. As expected of a farmer, I chose the best harvest: Belsus.
Archer failed, Bard failed. None of them are doing things right.
And soon enough, I ended up receiving a request from the person who had failed at character farming the most miserably.
---
[Paladin]: 3 days from now, at 10 PM. In front of the Meherm Forest, the southern citadel city of the Demihaad Kingdom.
[Paladin]: Please meet me.
It was 8 PM, a chat message that suddenly popped up without any context.
Naturally, the Rankers poured out messages in confusion like, '?', 'Paladin, did you come to Demihaad? Why?', and so on.
Without even a keypad to reply to the chat, I realized it the moment I saw it. Meherm Forest was very close to where I currently was.
Paladin was trying to meet me.
I didn't ignore Paladin's chat. When I went to the announced time and place, Paladin was there.
'How is Paladin here?'
Paladin had essentially crushed all of the Priest's original scenarios and crossed the entire central region of the continent just to be here.
The Demihaad Kingdom and the Holy State of Venaro, the Priest's homeland, were not on friendly terms, so he should have been caught at the border.
In other words, he had smuggled himself in.
On top of that, with the Priest on his back.
"I'm begging you. Please take Endymion to your farm so that he doesn't die. I have failed."
Paladin spoke like a defeated soldier. I couldn't sense any deceit or tricks from him.
He was genuinely trying to entrust Endymion to me.
Automatically, the game's story cutscenes for the Priest, 'Endymion,' flashed through my mind.
A tower surged up in the middle of the continent. Every priest died, vomiting blood.
Endymion also collapsed. However, by sheer coincidence, a genius Great Doctor was passing nearby, saving his life.
That was the 'Doctor' character, Hester. They were from the same country.
However, it wasn't as if the Doctor and Endymion had any special relationship or connection. Seeing the battered priest simply ignited Hester's competitive spirit, and he saved him using a method impossible for normal doctors: using 'Subspace.' This was the only time the Doctor appeared; their paths never crossed again after this.
Seeing the scars of treatment left on his body, Endymion... cursed the faceless doctor.
—Oh Lord. Please take me as well.
Despite being the only priest in this world whose life was saved, Endymion cried every day without drinking a single drop of water.
God could not answer his prayers. Because God was already dead.
—Why did You not embrace me? Why did You leave only me behind in this hell?
Soon enough, he began to view his living life as hell, believing that God had embraced the other priests and taken them to heaven. Out of all the priests, he was the only one left in hell.
—I was wrong. It is all because of my lack of virtue. Please forgive me. Please forgive me...
He sobbed uncontrollably until his voice went hoarse and he coughed up blood. Unable to resent God, he placed the blame entirely on his own sins.
A maximum game clear difficulty. The absolute worst scenario where, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, you'd end up witnessing Endymion's suicide ending.
Paladin had chosen Endymion, who was completely broken like this, as his partner. In a game with only one chance, betting his life in a new world.
I remembered the chat from right after we were transmigrated, when everyone was worried about Paladin.
[Thief]: Paladin picked the Priest? Isn't the Priest really hard?
[Paladin]: I enjoyed playing Endymion in the previous version of the game.
[Paladin]: Since the Priest and the Paladin are connected.
If the Priest, Endymion, awakened. Paladin, who used to be a Holy Knight but became a regular swordsman after the tower appeared would receive buffs too. But choosing him based solely on that was far too risky a gamble.
'Look at this. This is the result.'
I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at the man in front of me. On his shoulder, Endymion hung limply, his blue hair draped down. Endymion's arms, slumped forward, dangled lifelessly.
I stepped forward slightly and rolled up the sleeves of the priest's clothes.
Both wrists were tightly wrapped in bandages. They were even stained red, as if the wounds were recent. The smell of blood lingered in the air.
Paladin didn't try to stop me; he just silently watched me look down at the wounds. I stepped back again and crossed my arms.
"I don't do favors. Let's make it a trade."
Let's see. I was asked to 'save' a Ranker's partner.
In other words, if I didn't step in, this Ranker would lose his partner. He must have come all this way because he made that judgment.
I weighed what I could get in return. A massive amount of money? Highly useful items or artifacts? Or maybe he could perform actions beneficial to me, like my contract with Archer?
No, none of that was enough.
I quickly made up my mind.
"My condition is just this one thing. And I'll say this right now: no negotiations."
Paladin waited resolutely for my answer, his face showing he was prepared for anything.
But no matter how much he braced himself, it was clear that my condition far exceeded his expectations.
"Give me Endymion."
Unable to understand, Paladin blinked for a moment. Soon, visibly shaken, he stammered.
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