Aren’t they neglecting me too much?

Right now, I’m just eating, sleeping, and... relieving myself.

Because my routine is so regular, Joanna’s life has become easier. Honestly, I’m like a wild animal—just feed me, and I handle the rest myself.

Fortunately, I wasn’t bored.

That’s because I now had three more people to observe: Wide, Isla, and Tisaha.

As soon as Hieronymus parted ways with me, he took the children to a training area. Through long corridors and spacious open areas, they walked quite a distance.

I called it a "training area" because it wasn’t just an open field. The place where the Future Hope Sect resides is divided into a surprisingly diverse array of sections.

Using the memories of six individuals, I’ve managed to map roughly one-third of it.

At the deepest underground level lies the summoning chamber where I was called. From there, rooms and corridors spread out like an anthill.

Interestingly, the paths seem deliberately twisted, likely designed to confuse intruders unfamiliar with the layout.

Within this network lies a massive sanctuary, and even living quarters for people in case of emergencies. Joanna had explored almost every part of this underground domain.
However, she knew very little about the areas outside this subterranean network.

That’s because the only place she’d ever ventured to outside was a village to retrieve food. Before that, she’d been in another village entirely.

Still, something about this underground expanse feels odd. Even in a world with magic, building such an enormous underground complex in just a decade seems improbable.

It’s strange.

Perhaps inspecting the altar’s location more closely might reveal something. If they simply took over an existing structure, it wouldn’t be unusual. After all, my previous world had places like catacombs or Petra.

When you think about it, the existence of an underground city isn’t so strange.

The pace at which it was built, however, is perplexing.

But finding traces of its origins might be difficult. When one god’s shrine is overtaken by another, any traces of the previous deity are typically destroyed.

In Egypt, for example, temples were sometimes so massive that only their noses could be removed, or soot was used to obscure inscriptions.

The reason I’m pondering this is simple.

There’s a possibility that not even Joanna, or even Hieronymus, knows about certain areas.

By considering various possibilities, I’ll have more options if things go awry. If I don’t think ahead, I might end up with only one choice in a critical moment.

With plenty of time on my hands, I’ve been reflecting on how the Future Hope Sect operates while moving the children.

They walked for a very long time. In fact, they traveled far enough to leave the underground maze entirely.

After passing through the complex paths, they emerged at a cave entrance overlooking a distant village.

The location was camouflaged to resemble an animal’s den.

For the first time, I wasn’t relying on someone else’s memories—I was seeing the outside world with my own eyes. It was midday, so the surroundings were clearly visible. Viewing the landscape through the perspectives of the three children, I saw it was even more desolate than in the memories I’d glimpsed.

There were trees, but they were sparse, resembling cacti more than anything else.

It was like the barren wastelands often depicted in American Western movies.

Wide and Isla admired the landscape, while Tisaha, after scanning his surroundings, slumped dejectedly.

Huh.

Did he think he’d have a chance to escape?

It wouldn’t be surprising, considering his excessive defiance. That was an innate trait—an unwillingness to comply with what he deemed unjust.

People’s personalities vary greatly. Most can be corrected through “education,” a euphemism for physical abuse.

But exceptions exist.

Usually, such individuals are killed.
But Tisaha survived by developing the wisdom to adapt to the strangeness around him.

This place is fascinating.

Anyway, Hieronymus led the children into the village.

As soon as they arrived, Witega, the highest-ranking instructor, came to greet them.

With words drenched in flattery, he told the children they were blessed and chosen, inflating their self-esteem.

What’s amusing is that neither Witega nor Hieronymus believed a word of it.

It was obvious at a glance. But Wide, Isla, and even Tisaha seemed oblivious. Tisaha, in particular, didn’t like being chosen in the first place.

Even so, he remained oblivious to the coldness in their gazes. Were they looking at him as an object rather than a person?

Or was it because he’d never seen a different kind of gaze?

Witega, with that same detached gaze, led them to another area.

This place was filled with large men. Among them was one who had once dragged Isitur La Planja to me.

In other words, they were warriors.

Witega placed the children before them and bellowed.

“These children received their blessings first. If your blessing was delayed, know there was a reason for it!”

His speech implied that the warriors had voluntarily sought the blessing, but in reality, it was merely an excuse to push the children forward in case the situation turned volatile.

That’s how it seemed.

But lies are dangerous. He should have at least given me a heads-up. Otherwise, it could backfire someday.

Of course, they could strictly control any interaction between the followers and me.

But in a cult like this, how long could such tight control over faith last?

For now, I let the matter be and watched the children’s “blessings” in action.

They claimed it was to demonstrate the power of the blessings, but it was clearly an experiment.

I was curious too.

And the results?

Quite astonishing.

Tisaha was beaten to a pulp and collapsed, but Isla and Wide were different. Isla, for instance, singlehandedly took down more than five opponents. When two opponents attacked her simultaneously, she finally succumbed and fell.

Wide, however, had undergone the most drastic change.

He summoned violet flames in his hands. The sight alone changed everyone’s demeanor. One of the warriors facing him burst into flames in an instant.

Then another warrior caught fire.

Finally, a magic-wielding warrior appeared. He coated his sword in light and suspended chunks of ice in midair.

But when Wide was engulfed in violet flames, none of those attacks reached him—they burned away before contact.

When all opponents were defeated, the violet flames extinguished themselves.

These flames didn’t burn Wide but incinerated his enemies.

Wide proudly declared, “This is the power Lady Rebecca granted me. They didn’t receive it—only I was chosen!”

I didn’t grant him anything special, though.

The process had been identical for all three. The only difference was that Wide’s light and warmth had been far greater. But Isla had also had considerable light and warmth.

If anything, Tisaha’s light had been similar in size, but his warmth was distinctly lacking.

Regardless, Wide used the violet flames to bolster his authority, especially his faith.

“I was rewarded because of my unwavering belief,” he claimed.

Only two people frowned at this scene: Hieronymus and Witega.

Everyone else seemed to view the flames as the answer to their faith, praying fervently as they shouted that accursed name, “Krssaksshibal.”

The name "Krssaksshibal" echoed repeatedly, sounding more like a curse than something tied to "Future Hope Sect."

In the midst of this fervor, something interesting caught my attention: Isla. She was glaring at Wide with a face full of jealousy while clutching at the dirt beneath her.

Her entire body ached from the beating she’d taken in the 2-on-1 fight. The pain, however, wasn’t what consumed her. No, it was anger.

Her anger was directed at the warrior who had bested her, but beneath that was a faint sense of despair—an unspoken question: why wasn’t I chosen?

She voiced that question to herself as she gripped the soil tighter.

But she wasn’t what I found amusing.

What truly fascinated me was Tisaha.

Among the three, he was the only one who hadn’t grown taller or changed skin tone. The only visible difference was the change in his hair color.

Yet he had gained an ability.

Despite being beaten badly—enough to sustain injuries that should have left him crippled—he wasn’t in pain. Not a single part of his body hurt.

When he was knocked down, he didn’t lose consciousness. Instead, he remained still on the ground, silently observing the situation with bated breath.

Then, just before Wide finished his speech, Tisaha rose to his feet. Moving quickly, he made his way to Isla and prostrated himself behind her.

Why?

The answer came soon after. Wide began drawing comparisons.

He pointed to Tisaha first, mocking him as someone who had received a blessing but gained no power.

Then he shifted his focus to Isla, fixating on proving his superiority over her.

Hmm. My expectations were slightly off. I had assumed the three would end up with similar abilities, leading Wide to target Tisaha based on the order of their blessings. But now, that seemed unlikely.

Instead, Isla was the one developing resentment toward Wide. And faintly, though she tried to hide it, she harbored a sense of defeat.

Though their abilities were similar, Isla had initially been the stronger of the two. Now, the tables had turned.

Personally, I found Wide the most favorable. After all, the warmth I gained from him equaled that of five lives! Isla, on the other hand, hadn’t killed anyone. Tisaha, meanwhile, lost to his very first opponent.

The harvesters were proving their worth!

Hehe.

I could feel the warmth spreading through me. It was like a cold body shivering in a frozen wasteland, only for a soothing breeze of warmth to sweep over it.

While observing how the individuals I "granted" my essence were changing, I was able to absorb that warmth.

Today was a good day.