Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Communication

One of them was a dying old man covered in blood, and the other was a naked, fresh young man.

Roland had read plenty of books on religion, of course, mostly non-serious ones. He heard that some reverends liked boys best. Roland’s character was only seventeen years old. Was he a little boy in the old man’s eyes?

Thinking about that, he felt a toothache and became wary. He jumped backward. With the ritual table in between as an obstacle, he was more relaxed.

Perhaps because the negative effect of resurrection had passed, Roland felt a lot more comfortable. He covered his genitals with one hand and gazed at the reverend.

He wouldn’t have been scared of such an old man in reality because he could easily beat the old man up if he asked for trouble. However, he was in a highly simulative game, and the old man was a reverend of the Church of Life.

Different from the fat reverends who were obsessed with boys in reality, the reverends in this game were capable of real spells.

Seeing the young man’s wariness, Falken smiled at him. Maybe because he looked trustworthy, the young man seemed more or less relaxed. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Falken raised his hand and pointed at the young man’s forehead.

Roland did not expect that the stranger would cast a spell without any warning. A green ball of light dashed at him, but it was not too fast. Roland hurried to dodge, but the light ball followed him and hit his head after a turn, before it transformed like jelly and leaked through his skull into his brain.

Roland thought that the reverend was trying to kill him. After all, it was not unusual for a player to be killed by an NPC. He expected more head-exploding agony, but to his surprise, he felt nothing except a twinge in his head.

“Young man, you should be able to understand me now.”

It was not any language that Roland was aware of, but he could understand what the reverend was saying now.

Roland was briefly stunned, but he soon realized what was going on. Holding his forehead, he gasped and said, “Language Proficiency? Mister, please wait a moment and let me put on my clothes first.”

Roland was certainly not a fan of nudity. He soon found the option, Pick Up Your Body, on the menu and clicked Confirm.

Roland’s headless body turned into countless white cubes in a few seconds, which were stretched into a beautiful ribbon and flew back into Roland. The scattered brains and blood turned into flecks of light and also flew back to him.

It was a beautiful view. Not just that, the temple was back to normal, and the stains on Falken’s clothes were entirely gone.

The place changed from a gruesome slaughterhouse back into the peaceful chapel.

Roland’s consciousness received the system’s reminder: You’ve retrieved your body and recovered 50% of the experience that you lost after you died. The amount of recovered experience is zero.

Because Roland’s head exploded soon after he was “born,” he hadn’t gained any experience yet. Naturally, none of it could be recovered.

When the glistening cubes all returned to Roland, new clothes were added to him. They were exactly the clothes he wore at the beginning.

Roland was much more poised with clothes on him. He nodded and said, “Mister, thank you for your trouble. How long can this Language Proficiency last?”

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“Around three hours,” said Falken weakly and hoarsely, like every old man. He was rather confident that the stranger was a Golden Son, according to the oracle. “When I was young, it could last more than five hours.”

Most old men cherished their feats when they were young. This old man, though a reverend and an NPC, was no exception. Roland secretly chuckled but said normally, “I am Roland. What’s your name, senior?”

“Falken!”

After offering his name, Falken eyed the young man up and down. Judging from his action and behavior, he did not seem to be a man of manners. Yet, he had an odd air around him that made Falken feel that it was just the way he talked and he did not mean to be rude.

Falken was a reverend, a senior, and a former mercenary. For regular people, he was a high and mighty savior of the world. But essentially speaking, Falken was only a human being who was slightly above average, and who had lost his source of intelligence after he settled down here.

On many occasions, intelligence was not just intelligence, but also knowledge.

Having lost the sources of intelligence and knowledge in this small town, Falken knew very well that he barely made any progress in the past decades. If anything, he even retrograded.

However, he did not regret it. Glorifying the goddess in this town was what he was most proud of in his life.

The Golden Son before him seemed approachable, but there was no telling what was on his mind. Logically, since he was revived on the ritual table for the goddess, he must be rather intimate with the goddess.

“Mr. Roland, you must be a Golden Son, no?” ventured Falken prudently. He couldn’t be more careful until he figured out the personality of this young man. “A few days ago, the goddess left an oracle which stated that you would arrive from the outer dimensions and live with us.”

Is that the role of the players in this game? Roland found it curious. In most games, players were set as saviors or powerful, special persons. It was the first time that he had been treated as a foreigner.

However, it did make sense on second thought. There couldn’t be five hundred thousand saviors, could there?

Roland nodded. “I’m probably a Golden Son that you mentioned, and I’m indeed from an outer dimension… Mister, can I ask you a question?”

Falken smiled. “By all means.”

“Where am I?” Roland looked around as he spoke. “I know that this is a temple of the Life Goddess. What I would like to know is my current location.”

Falken turned around and opened the door. The morning sunlight flowed into the temple like an orange brook, bright and warm.

Basking in the sunlight as if there was a halo around him, the reverend smiled at Roland.

“Welcome to Red Mountain Town!”