Reincarnated as a Sword Vol. 3, page 1
part #3 of Reincarnated as a Sword Series
Chapter 1:
Where Cats Go, Trouble Is Soon to Follow
Who is the God of Evil?
An evil god? A god who fought the other gods? While these answers are not mistaken, they are merely a part of the God of Evil’s narrative.
To know the God of Evil, we must start with the gods in general.
This is not public knowledge, but the gods of this world did not come from this world. I have come to this conclusion after consulting those with the Oracle skill and those who have written down and preserved the divine word of the gods.
I was surprised to learn that there were eight million gods where they came from. They came to our world to seek a new residence because theirs had become too cramped. Unlike villagers who rant and rave at being forced to leave their overpopulated village, the gods simply left their world to come to ours. Their number was eighty-nine: exactly the number of gods which grace our world.
What follows is general folklore: Having come to an uninhabited plane of existence, the gods wasted no time shaping a new world. The God of Earth created the land out of his own body, and the other gods filled that body with each of their aspects. The God of Oceans filled the seas, the God of the Sun lit up the great fireball in the sky. The God of the Silver Moon then created the moon and moved there to lessen the burden of the God of Earth. The lesser gods proceeded to live on the Great Moon, the greater gods staking their claims on each of the seven moons orbiting it.
There was one god who was left out during the creation of our world, and that was the God of War. He continued to assist the other gods, saying that he would bestow his blessing upon this world once they were done with their part. When the other gods had exhausted their creative energies, the God of War rose in revolt. Some say he lost his mind, while others say he fell to temptation. Only the gods know for sure. One thing we do know is the God of War, possessed by the God of Evil, was so strong and the other gods so weak that they were no match for him in the ensuing conflict.
Nevertheless, the united power of the gods managed to subdue the God of Evil. They scattered his remains across the known world and sealed them away. However, they were unable to completely seal away the pieces of his body, and those pieces went on to create Fiends, which remain a problem to this day.
I do not know whether the following is true or pure mythological conjecture, but it is said that one of the gods summoned his godly weapon from his home world and wielded it during the war with the God of Evil. His sword was the first of the Divine Weapons created in our world.
The significance of this story lies not only in the origin of the Divine Weapons but in how the link between worlds could be established. It goes without saying that summoning a divine weapon is not so easily done, for we are not gods ourselves.
But what of other beings? Perhaps, people?
Impossible? Why so? The gods themselves came from other worlds, after all. There is a nonzero chance that non-divine aliens live in our midst.
—The writings of Willow Magnus, High Elf historian.
Excerpt from “On the Mythology of Our World.”
A day had gone by since we left Jean’s laboratory. Thanks to Jet’s efforts, the port city of Dars was now within sight.
Our side trip to the floating island had left us behind schedule. We should have reached Dars a few days ago. We would take a boat from Dars and head south to the port town of Bulbola. From there, we would carry on to our final destination, the Dungeon City of Ulmutt.
I can see it!
“Oooh.”
The city of Dars was beginning to come into view beyond the distant hill. A sparkling blue sea with a refreshing breeze surrounded the port town, itself home to rustic wooden houses. Why, it looked like a scene right out of my manga.
The town was slightly smaller than Alessa, the first major settlement Fran and I came across.
“Woof, woof, woof!”
What is it, Jet?
Jet began barking excitedly. At first, I thought he had detected some enemies in the vicinity, but his barks lacked the necessary hostility.
“He likes seeing the ocean.”
Oh yeah. You’ve never seen the ocean before, have you, Jet?
“Aroo!”
Jet looked at the sea, his eyes glittering like the surf itself, unable to hold back his excitement at seeing his first body of water.
Let’s head to the beach later.
“Woof!” Jet replied with vigorous wagging of his gigantic tail. The size and speed at which he wagged his tail turned it into something of an electric fan.
Fran closed her eyes and looked satisfied. “I can’t wait.”
You too?
“I’ve never been on a beach before.”
Fran had been transported on slave ships, so she’d never had the chance to play on a beach. That was no good! No good at all! I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said half the fun of the ocean is playing on the beach! I’d make her a pro at beach games before we got on a boat to Bulbola.
Shall we make it a picnic? We can have lunch and everything.
“Curry?”
Not curry, no.
While the lumpy curry served in beach houses had a certain charm to them, they wouldn’t do us much good at a picnic.
Times like these call for sandwiches.
“Like curry sandwiches?”
That…would be an interesting challenge.
I’ll make some curry sandwiches, too. I figured I could either make a sandwich out of dry curry or one out of curry-seasoned meat.
“Hm!” Fran nodded in enthusiasm, and Jet looked up at me, following his master’s cue.
“Arf?”
All right, fine, I’ll make some for you, too, Jet. You okay with bone-in?
“Awoo!”
I wonder if they were more excited about the picnic or the food. Fran and Jet did prefer cuisine to scenery, after all.
First, we would need to secure lodging. We’d have to stay in the city for at least one night, maybe more, while we looked for a ship traveling to Ulmutt.
Make yourself smaller, Jet. We’re walking from here on out. The town might break out into a panic if we walked in with a giant direwolf. They might even mobilize the town guard. We wouldn’t want that.
“Woof!”
Fran hopped off of Jet, now dog-sized, and walked alongside him down the hill. We soon found a path which led straight to the town. We met a lot of travelers along the way, though all of them steered clear when they saw us. Some of them went so far as to go off the main road to avoid us.
Try as we might to blunt Jet’s intimidation factor, he was still a wolf to most people. We knew he was a big puppy underneath all that ferocity, but his jet-black fur and menacing jaws understandably struck fear into people’s hearts. Fear enough to make them get off the main road.
Only two things prevented pedestrians from outright fleeing: Jet’s collar, with his Familiar Identification Tag attached, and the fact that he was walking alongside Fran. Still, he looked menacing enough. I apologized mentally to everyone who was shocked by the encounter.
We reached the city gates after unconsciously pressuring everyone we passed to get out of our way.
“What? An adventurer? And a D-Rank, at that? Excuse me?”
The guard on duty was astonished when Fran showed him her guild card. He was surprised enough to learn that the little beastgirl in front of him was an adventurer. That she was also a mid-rank adventurer proved too much to process.
After inspecting her guild card multiple times, the soldier regained his composure and resumed the registration process. We paid 300G for our entry fee and produced Jet’s Familiar Registration documents.
“Carry on.”
We were free to enter. That went smoother than I thought. I expected him to bother us with a lot more questions, but as it was in Alessa, entering the city was simple enough as long as you had proper documentation and identification.
All right, let’s look for a place to stay.
“What about the beach?”
After we get a room. But wow, this city is packed!
Although Dars was smaller than Alessa, its population was several times larger. Did that come with being a port town?
The streets were bustling with merchants and seamen.
I hope we can get a nice place to stay. Wouldn’t want to sleep on the streets in a city like this.
“Well, duh.”
Who taught you to talk like that?
“Hm?”
…Never mind. We need to check in at the local guild, so let’s hurry up and find some lodging.
We saw a lot of hotels and inns along the main street, just like in Alessa. The cheaper inns didn’t feel safe to me, so I kept my eyes peeled for something pricier.
However, that didn’t work out.
“They wouldn’t let us stay, either…”
What is going on?
We had been turned away at all of the five inns we went to. At first, I thought it had something to do with Fran being too small or them not allowing pets like Jet, but the innkeepers didn’t seem to be lying. The receptionists had all apologized profusely for turning us away. There really were no vacancies.
Did this come with being a port town? Were the inns always packed because of all the people who were constantly coming and going?
But how could all the lodges be filled all of the time?
Can’t be helped. Let’s go to the guild for now. We’ll ask them if they have any suggestio ns on where to stay.
“Okay.”
We reached the local guildhouse after asking someone on the street for directions. It was much smaller than the one in Alessa.
“Hello.”
“Welcome!”
A voice full of vitality and vigor greeted us when we opened the door to the guildhouse. A well-built man was waiting at the reception table. He wore a tank top and a headband around his forehead, making him look like a veritable fishmonger. Was this also part of the port town experience? I should stop with the comparisons.
The difference between Alessa’s pretty lady receptionist and…this guy, was quite a shock, though. Oh, adventurers of Dars, how I pity you.
“What brings you to the guild, little lady?”
“I want to sell materials.”
“Sorry, but we only buy mats off of authorized adventurers.”
“No problem. I am one.”
Fran presented her guild card over the counter. The man casually picked it up, expecting Fran to be a newly minted rookie adventurer.
His indifference didn’t last for long.
“Wh-what? Y-you’re a D-Rank?” He inspected her identification, astonished. “Is this fake? No…it’s real no matter how you dice it. H-hang on.”
The guild receptionist shared the reaction of the soldier at the gates. He scrunched his face and held a crystal against Fran’s guild card.
The crystal looked to be of the same kind as the one used to register her guild card, albeit much smaller. It probably had the ability to read information stored in a guild card. Fran’s name and information appeared on its surface, confirming that her card was, in fact, authentic.
“It…it’s real?! You really are a D-Rank, little lady!”
The macho man stood up, astounded. The other adventures gathered around after hearing his exclamation. The guildhouse came equipped with a tavern, so there were quite a few who had been lounging in their seats.
A crowd of twenty encircled us in no time.
“What the hell are you on about, Modge? Is this some kind of joke?”
“That’s gotta be fake.”
Disbelief was their immediate reaction. The receptionist, Modge, insisted however, having seen the proof with his own eyes.
The rowdy adventurers were making this conversation go nowhere.
“Can I sell you my stuff now?”
“O-oh, of course. Sorry about that.”
“Good. Trading counter’s over there?”
“Y-yes.”
Fran ignored the rowdy complaints of her fellow adventurers and made her way to the trading counter.
She piled materials one on top of another on the leather-adorned table. She started with the low-rank materials she got off the monsters we fought on our way to Dars and worked up to the few materials she had left from the undead dungeon.
We had sold the materials that could be used for specialized crafting off to Jean. All that we had left on us were materials which were used for making weapons and armor.
The guild hall grew noisier with every item Fran put on her pile. That was until she took out a D-Rank Threat material. Clearly, that had crossed some line, and everyone fell silent.
The only sound left in the guild hall was that of Fran stacking up items.
Judging by the looks of the guildsmen, it didn’t seem like we were going to get caught up in the cliché of having low-life adventurers gang up on us. Good. Should we make a public display of all our transactions from now on? No, that would only attract the attention of money-grubbing idiots.
“That’s all of it.”
The guy behind the counter didn’t answer.
Fran stared at him questioningly.
He still boggled at her pile.
“Hey.”
“…Oh! ’Scuse me! I’m just a little shocked is all!”
Fran might be a D-Rank adventurer, but she couldn’t avoid being treated like a child because of her looks.
“All right… It’s going to take about an hour to get through all of this. Do you wanna wait?”
What do you think?
Ask him about lodging so we can head out and find a place to stay.
Got it.
So we asked the receptionist, Modge, if he knew of any place that would take us in for the night. The information he had to share was unfortunate.
“That’s going to be tough at this time of year,” Modge said, furling his eyebrows.
“Why?”
“It’s almost time for the Festival of the Moons, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“We celebrate it normally in this city like anywhere else, but they throw an extravagant festival over in Bulbola. Folks who wanna take a ship over there end up crowding our little town around this time of year. Can’t find a vacant room for the life of you.”
“I see.”
That didn’t sound good. Were we going to have to sleep on the streets while we were here? And what was this about the Festival of the Moons? Fran seemed to know what it was, so it must be a customary festival of this world.
Hey, what’s this Festival of the Moons thing?
It’s a festival.
Yeah, I kind of figured. It had “Festival” in the name, after all.
It’s a day where you can see all the moons.
Doesn’t that happen all the time?
No. I mean you get to see all of them being full moons at once.
After much prompting, I was finally able to put together Fran’s explanation of the Festival of the Moons.
The Festival of the Moons happened once every three months. A large silver moon surrounded by six smaller moons orbited this planet, but you could only see all seven heavenly discs at their fullest on the days of these festivals.
The seven simultaneous full moons occurred on the last days of March, June, September, and December—only four times a year. Today was March 25, just six days away from the Festival of the Moons.
I couldn’t tell how grand the Festival of the Moons in Bulbola was going to be based on Modge’s explanation, but I could tell it was big. Big enough to get all the people in the country to want to visit.
“You’re not the only ones without lodging. If you don’t mind hunkering down in a corner of the bar, I can lend you a blanket.”
Yeah, I would like to avoid that if at all possible.
We left the guild regardless, since calculating the price of the materials was going to take time, anyway. Modge gave us some leads for inns that might have vacancies but…to no avail.
Some of the inns were completely chartered by some rich nobles. God, why did they have to bring so much trouble wherever they went? We tried three more inns and were turned away from all of them.
Oh well. Let’s go get our money at the guild before trying again.
“Okay.”
We might have to take Modge’s advice and rent out a corner of a bar.
“You’re back. Any luck?”
“None.”
“I see. That’s too bad. Ah, before I forget, here’s payment for your materials.”
“Thanks.”
120,000G in total. Not bad. If we could find a place to stay, today would be perfect.
“I’m so sorry. We’re fully booked today.”
This was our ninth miss of the day.
We can’t find an inn at all. What should we do?
We found ourselves at the market, located in the city center, as we continued our search for lodging. Specialty foodstuffs unique to port towns lined the stalls on the streets.
How about we take a walk around the market for a change of pace? I wanted to get my hands on seafood if they had any.
“Okay, sure.”
We looked around the market, and the selection of seafood did not disappoint. The port town of Dars lived up to its name. They had so many different kinds of fish.
Among the selection of products sold at the marketplace was some kind of crimson salt. It was ten times more expensive than regular white salt.
We learned a lot from speaking to the fast-talking young lady (estimated age: fifty years old) who ran one of the stalls, although we did have to prevent her from going off on a tangent about the problems she had with her daughter-in-law and husband. She told us about Dars’ specialty, which could only be harvested from a nearby dungeon in the sea.
The mere mention of a dungeon excited Fran, but she lost all interest after being told the details. This dungeon was only one floor deep. You could clear it in thirty minutes, and there wasn’t anything of interest in it other than Blue Salt. To top it all off, the monsters were few and weak, as it was a G-Rank dungeon. No wonder Fran was disappointed. I wouldn’t want to bother traversing such a dungeon myself.
