44 Days in a Room with a View

It’s been 44 days since I moved into a room with a view.

Every day, three people bring me warmth.

Of course, the warmth each person carries varies. Some days, the combined warmth of three individuals is less than what I might receive from just one on another day.

But you know how sometimes the school cafeteria serves tasteless food for a day or two?

It’s something you can overlook. Even a little is better than nothing.

If you’ve never shivered in the cold, you wouldn’t understand. The chill doesn’t just settle on your skin—it seeps into your bones, burrowing deeper still.

Even the faintest warmth brings immense joy.

So, for now, I’m content with this life.

Of course, I stay in my room most of the time. Aside from going out to bestow blessings, my routine involves sitting quietly in my space.

But I’m not bored.

I can observe over a hundred people in total.

You’re wondering why, after over 40 days and blessing three people daily, the number isn’t 120?

Some have died.

Some blessed individuals killed each other in fights, while others were killed during raids on nearby cities.

“Isn’t it a loss if the blessed kill each other?” you might ask.

Not at all.

Even when they fight and die, their warmth still comes to me. It doesn’t weaken the strength they give me, either.

So I continue to gain warmth every day, and occasionally, I receive even more. For instance, Wide and Isla are on the front lines, killing people.

They send me plenty of warmth. I love it.

As the number of people increases, I’ve been able to gather information and assess the surrounding environment.

The Future Hope Sect is currently based in a place called Skard Rock Desert, located at the intersection of three nations.

To the west lies the Kingdom of Lasve, to the northeast the Kingdom of Cogni, and to the southeast the Kingdom of Ancelus.

There are smaller countries beyond these, but these three dominate the area, and they’re where the Future Hope Sect operates most actively.

Each person who joins the sect brings their own grievances. These grievances accumulate and fester, seeking a place to explode.

The three nations are the ones with the deepest reservoirs of resentment.

That’s likely why, in less than 50 days, the missions carried out by those blessed by me have shifted.

Initially, they spread the faith and sought to persuade others.

But gradually, they began to spill blood.

What was the turning point?

I’m not entirely sure. Was it because the sect’s growing influence provoked resistance? Or was it because, unlike before, we now had the strength to push back?

It began with self-defense.

Then came defending others in the sect.

From there, it became easy.

Once you’ve wielded a weapon to protect someone, it becomes an acceptable method.

Blessed individuals from the Future Hope Sect began leading attacks on territories ruled by tyrannical lords.

When they liberated the oppressed people, those freed often joined the sect, overjoyed. Not everyone, of course.

But what other choice did they have?

Survivors of such battles had experienced overthrowing a lord to create a better world. No one in power would want such a person entering their domain.

From an outsider’s perspective, these survivors were enemies.

Enemies with dangerous ideologies.

Even wise individuals had no choice but to align themselves with the Future Hope Sect.

In a famous novel, there’s a group similar to the Future Hope Sect.

The Yellow Turban Rebellion.

Yes, they too began as a pseudo-religious uprising. People, tired of oppression and exploitation, joined the cause. But instead of creating a better world, they became more localized oppressors.

The only difference was that the government was replaced by bandits. Is this what it’s like in parts of Mexico ruled by gangs?

But for now, the atmosphere is hopeful.

Those who tormented them are dead, and the Future Hope Sect has given them much. Not liking the sect becomes a strange position to hold.

Critics who call it a cult or heresy grow silent. After all, traditional religions don’t provide food or safety in the immediate sense.

Religions often forge spiritual connections.

This creates intense rejection of those who don’t join their fold.

Material connections are simpler—if interests don’t align, the relationship ends.

But religions are different.

If the relationship isn’t deep, you’re labeled an apostate. It’s better to not join at all, but even that requires the right circumstances. How can someone avoid joining when the alternative is having no place to live?

The sect grows steadily.

This is what I see.

It’s fascinating to watch as they kill more people to expand their influence. Soon, when the Future Hope Sect becomes a massive organization like the Yellow Turban Rebellion, an age of chaos will begin.

More death. More killing.

Fields from which I can harvest warmth will grow.

Harvest season will require strength. And those who desire power will come to me, begging for it.

More harvesters!

Already, my harvesters are fighting soldiers and generals. Their superhuman physical abilities have surpassed human limits, and many wield unique powers.

Fire, water, ice, electricity—simple elemental abilities—and more complex ones like mind control or inducing sleep.

Their powers are universally violet.

While there are slight differences among individuals, the dominant hue is always violet.

And they send their warmth to me.

I could increase the number of harvesters, but I still don’t plan to bless more than three people a day.

Scarcity is important.

I wouldn’t have thought about this before, but now, even people in high positions vie for my blessings.

Especially when an elderly person transforms into a youthful version of themselves—such occurrences have become more frequent.

Hehe.

Everyone desires youth.

But whether they can live long remains uncertain. Their light has turned black.

I don’t yet know what it means when light turns black.

No matter how wretched someone’s life has been, their light always shines white.

Not even patricide, cannibalism, or genocide stains the light.

The light that falls into the cold sea passes through me, granting warmth before vanishing. I am the sea. By licking the light as it falls, I gain both its warmth and its memories.

Nothing exists beneath the surface but me.

No bottom, only the expanse above.

The light always shines.

One day, I’ll have to understand what this means, but for now, that day hasn’t come.

So, I shifted my focus away from the countless people far off and concentrated on Rebecca Rolf. Even while immersed in her, I can observe what others are doing.

But the deeper I immerse myself, the more details I might miss.

I stood up.

Not walking seems to be weakening Rebecca Rolf’s body. Aside from brief moments when I move to grant blessings, I’ve spent all my time sitting in a chair or lying in bed.

“Hey, where are you going?”

Hyungkeshni, lounging on a sofa in her self-made corner of the room, raised her head to ask. Her space included a long sofa, a table, and a small bookshelf.

At first, Joanna had strongly objected to it, but after Hyungkeshni handed her various trinkets, the two grew close.

Is Hyungkeshni cunning, or is Joanna simply broad-minded?

I pointed to myself.

“Humans grow weak if they don’t move.”

As always, I spoke like a non-human explaining things from a human’s perspective. I only state the facts.

By now, everyone accepts it as normal.

“Right. If you don’t move, you gain weight and weaken. Are you planning to walk around the area?”
“Yes.”

Hyungkeshni looked around. Joanna wasn’t present—she’d taken the blankets and bedcovers out earlier, saying she was going to wash them.

Scratching her nearly white, grayish hair, Hyungkeshni stood up.

“Clothes—where did Joanna put the clothes?”

She approached my wardrobe in one corner of the room.

“What about these?”

The clothes I usually wear are close to pajamas. I knew they weren’t suitable, but I asked anyway.

Aesthetic consistency matters, doesn’t it?

“No way, Rebecca. You’re the Apostle of the god in this Future Hope Sect. Appearance is half of a person’s identity. Clothing reflects your status. Look at me—I wear this ragged shawl for that reason. If you went out in those clothes, people would think some heretic escaped.”

Heretic.

A term used by the Future Hope Sect to encompass all other religions.

From the perspective of other religions, this sect is the heresy.

Hyungkeshni provided a reasonable explanation that made sense in its own way.

So, I wrapped myself in the dark purple mist flowing out of my body, materializing a white dress I had worn before, shortening the hem slightly.

It’s easier to move that way.

“Changed.”
“You can do that?”

She asked nonchalantly, though the faint smile tugging at her lips betrayed her lingering fear of me.

During our time sharing this room, I had behaved like a docile pet. At first, even minor movements from me elicited intense reactions, but after two weeks, those had faded.

Now, after over four weeks, I thought she’d completely let her guard down—but apparently not.

How troublesome.

If I could, I’d bless her to gain access to her knowledge.

But there’s no rush. Acting hastily would ruin everything. I’ll take my time building rapport until she desires my blessing.

“Surprised?”
“Of course I’m surprised when clothes suddenly change. Was that your doing? How did you do it?”

Hyungkeshni’s tone was casual, but her question required careful consideration. Explaining it would hand her the upper hand, so I decided to cut it short.

“Can’t you?”

Nothing more needed to be said.

Her expression soured slightly at my question.

Ah, it stung. Hehe.

“Normal people can’t do that.”
“I’m not normal.”

Swallowing the words, I once was human, I opened the door and stepped outside.

This was my first voluntary excursion.