Chapter 39
His name was Lucas.
He was the last remaining priest of this temple — the one who had guarded it alone for years, despite the fact that almost no one ever came here anymore.
“Ah, we’re from the Hagion Hero Corps,” Adrian said quickly, showing the ID hanging from his neck.
“Oh! You must be here to resolve the darkness that has descended upon the forest. Welcome, welcome. The place is humble, but please, come in.”
Lucas greeted them warmly and opened the creaky wooden gate wide.
Just as they were about to step inside the temple, Adrian tapped Leo on the shoulder.
“Mr. Leo, you and I should check the area around the temple. It’d be inefficient for all of us to go inside.”
“Huh? Oh, uh, sure. But why me?”
“Elain must go—she’s the chosen of the Goddess, after all. Her presence might help earn the priest’s goodwill. As for those two…” Adrian glanced meaningfully at Darren and Rena. “You know how it is. If they get into another argument, it’ll be a headache. Better to send them somewhere friendly to us.”
At his cold remark, Darren and Rena looked ready to snap back, but noticing the stranger’s presence, they both exhaled and forced themselves to agree.
“Fine. Efficiency’s good. Let’s move efficiently,” Darren muttered, following the priest inside.
I thought I heard someone grinding their teeth, but well.
As someone who appreciated efficiency, I gave Adrian a silent thumbs-up and followed them into the temple.
Despite its shabby exterior, the interior was surprisingly well-kept. It was old, yes, but clearly cleaned and maintained with care.
They were seated in a modest guest room prepared for visitors, and after a short wait, Lucas returned with cups of herbal tea.
“I’ve heard rumors that one blessed by the Goddess herself has descended among mortals,” Lucas said kindly, smiling with the soft wrinkles of age at the corners of his eyes. “Might that person be among you?”
“Oh, that would be… me.”
Feeling my face flush, I shyly extended my hand to show him the mark of the Goddess engraved on the back of it.
You’d think I’d be used to this by now, but every time I showed that mark, my face still burned.
“Ohh… indeed.”
Lucas examined it closely, then clasped his hands together and closed his eyes in prayer.
I knew, of course, that his prayer wasn’t directed at me but at Hagionia, the Goddess who had branded this symbol into my skin. Still, for some reason, I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.
“Now then,” he said, “what brings you here? Is there something this old servant of the Goddess can do to help?”
Rena was the one who answered, calm but direct.
“Before entering the forest, we wanted to gather some information. But the villagers refuse to speak to us. There’s a clear resentment toward both the temple and the Hagion Hero Corps. We came to ask if there’s something going on that we don’t know about.”
Her words were straightforward, but respectful and to the point.
“Ahh, you must have had a hard time trying to learn anything from them,” Lucas sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment before beginning to explain.
It was a story I already knew from the game, but I nodded along as if hearing it for the first time.
Here’s the summary:
Not so long ago, this temple hadn’t been in such disrepair.
It had many priests, and even more workers supporting them.
The gardens had been beautifully maintained, adorned with golden ornaments and precious gemstones.
Donations poured in constantly; the temple’s treasury overflowed with riches.
And all that wealth had been amassed by a greedy bishop.
“The previous bishop conspired with the Forest Guild, extorting great sums from its members under the guise of ‘donations.’ But in truth, it was little more than forced tribute.”
As corruption spread between the temple and the guild, the people of Silvagrove Forest suffered more and more.
Eventually, the festering resentment exploded.
“About thirty years ago, there was an uprising within the guild. They ousted the pro-temple guildmaster and his followers, declaring that they would no longer cooperate with the temple. From that point on, the people of Silvagrove saw us as enemies.”
Fortunately, no mob came to storm the temple and drag out the corrupt clergy.
But once the bishop and his priests realized that remaining here no longer brought them profit, they left one by one—until only Lucas, then a young apprentice, was left behind.
“……”
Darren and Rena both looked shocked.
Apparently, they hadn’t imagined that the temple’s corruption ran that deep.
As for me, I wasn’t all that surprised. In fantasy worlds, it’s practically a rule that temples eventually become corrupt.
When faith in the Goddess—who once protected the continent of Edaphosia from the Demon King—faded during peacetime, it was only natural that greed would take root.
“…I’ve heard the weakening of the temple’s influence is not unique to this place,” Lucas went on. “Perhaps, if you brave heroes prove victorious against the Demon King’s forces, people’s faith will return.”
“Hah. Well, it’s not like we’re fighting the Demon King to help the temple’s reputation or anything~”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
I’d meant to keep that thought in my head, but with my already soured feelings toward the Goddess, I couldn’t help snapping a little.
“……!”
Silence fell.
Lucas, who’d been speaking so earnestly, froze. Rena and Darren stared at me wide-eyed, as if I’d just said something unthinkable.
Of course they were shocked. In the game, the protagonist was a pushover—always helping everyone, never saying a bad word to anyone.
But I’m not that protagonist.
I just pursed my lips, and Lucas gave an awkward chuckle.
“Oh, I see. I didn’t mean it that way,” he said quickly. “Honestly, as one who serves the Goddess, it pains me to say this, but… the temple’s decline is the result of our own sins. We brought this upon ourselves.”
Oh. So he was a decent man after all.
It made sense, then, that he’d stayed behind to care for the temple alone when everyone else abandoned it.
If only the clergy had been more like him, things might not have ended up this way.
“These are hard times,” he said softly. “But the Goddess will surely show us a way forward. I hope what I’ve told you proves helpful.”
And with that, their conversation ended.
When the group stepped outside the temple again, Rena made a suggestion—one that, given her personality, sounded a little unexpected, though I knew it from the game.
“Father Lucas must have a hard time maintaining this place on his own. Why don’t we help him clean up the front yard a little?”
“Oh, I’m in,” Darren said, rolling up his sleeves. “After all the insults we’ve heard about the Hero Corps today, I could use some hard labor to blow off steam.”
Both of them looked at me.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Rena asked coolly.
“Huh? Why would I?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say you’re not doing this for the temple?”
“Ah, that.”
So that’s why she thought I wouldn’t want to help.
“But that’s different,” I said, walking toward the courtyard. “I don’t like being treated like a tool to boost the temple’s influence, that’s all. But helping someone who’s struggling? That’s just being human.”
“I see… you’re surprisingly consistent,” Rena muttered, shaking her head before crouching down to pull out weeds herself.
I chuckled and pulled a small hoe from my inventory.
“Well then, let’s make this place shine.”
Of course, part of my motivation came from sympathy for Lucas…
…but mostly because—
If you weed the yard thoroughly, you’ll find the treasure chest the previous bishop buried before he fled.
And when you hand that treasure to Lucas, he uses it to rebuild the temple.
He doesn’t keep it all, of course—he shares useful items with the party.
Like the Rainbow Stone, for example.
I no longer had any reason to obsess over the Rainbow Stone…
…but it was still useful for forging and enhancement. No reason to say no.
So I got to work clearing the courtyard.
I roughly remembered where the chest was buried, but I couldn’t reach it until all the weeds were gone.
You have to pull weeds out by the roots. Otherwise, they’ll grow back fast.
That was something I’d learned while tending the Hero Corps’ vegetable field.
Back then, I’d only trimmed them with a sickle—until Beth yelled at me for not uprooting them completely.
Her words—“Eliminate every last root!”—sounded like something a war general would say, but surprisingly, it applied just as well to gardening.
And so, lost in such idle thoughts, I kept pulling weeds, one after another, until finally—
I reached the spot where the treasure chest was buried.
