Chapter 31: Departure

"Since when did I become so stupid?" I muttered to myself as I realized the obvious solution I'd ignored.

With a sigh, I cast a noise-cancellation spell around my room, and finally, blissful silence enveloped me. I slept like a rock, undisturbed by the chaos brewing outside.

The next morning, I lowered the spell—and was instantly assaulted by a cacophony of voices.

It was horrendously loud.

Even from my window, I could hear the shouting spilling into the streets. Neighbors were yelling, some with flushed faces of anger, others with laughter.

"What a funny sight," I murmured, unable to suppress a smirk at the absurdity.

I wandered into the kitchen, only to find it in a state of disarray. Empty bottles and scattered plates sat on the counters, and dust clung to the neglected corners.

"Not saying this because he's a widower," I mused, picking up a grimy dish, "but the place definitely needs cleaning. Seriously."

After some effort to make the kitchen usable, I prepared a simple breakfast and packed a few sandwiches for later. Sitting by the window, I watched the unfolding scene next door.

A few minutes later, the commotion reached its peak as the town head himself stormed down the street.

He was red-faced, wagging his finger furiously as he reprimanded everyone involved in last night's antics.

The newlyweds, the widower, and, of course, my partner, Julie, stood in a line like schoolchildren caught causing trouble.

Julie, to her credit, looked more amused than ashamed, while Marc seemed utterly unbothered.

I took a bite of my sandwich, watching the scene with mild interest.

After a few hours of rest and preparation, we headed out from the village, leaving behind its peculiar energy and chaotic charm. This time, our goal was clear: find the next gate and ascend to the third floor.

Julie walked beside me, her usual radiant smile plastered across her face, clearly still riding the high from last night's escapades.

"So," I began, my tone as dry as ever, "the town chief promised you a good night too, huh?"

The words had barely left my mouth when Julie froze mid-step, her face a comical mix of shock and disbelief.

"You—you can joke?!" she exclaimed, pointing at me as if I'd just grown a second head. "I thought you were the silent, stoic type!"

I glanced at her, unfazed. "Keep it up," I said flatly, "and I won't grant you a blessing."

Julie gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "How cruel, my goddess! I live only for your divine favor!"

"You're exhausting," I muttered, shaking my head and picking up the pace.

Julie, undeterred, skipped to keep up with me, her grin widening. Despite her theatrics, I could tell she was genuinely enjoying herself.

As we walked further into the unknown terrain, I couldn't help but think how much quieter things would be without her—but also, how oddly dull.

"Don't you think climbing the tower is easier than expected?" Julie suddenly spoke, her voice thoughtful as she looked around the barren expanse.

"Yeah, that's true," I replied, my tone as indifferent as ever, though her words stirred something in me.

She continued, her brows furrowing. "You know, the blessed individuals—the ones chosen by gods—they always talk about how every floor is a challenge. They make it sound like this monumental task, filled with trials that push you to the brink of Life-and-death situations at every floor.

Each victory is supposed to be hard-earned, with incredible rewards, new powers, and a sense of overwhelming accomplishment."

I nodded slightly, prompting her to go on.

"But here we are," she said, gesturing around us. "We've gone through two floors already, and what have we really faced? A few hordes of monsters, some ogres, and... well, a lot of strange townsfolk." She laughed lightly, but there was a hint of unease in her voice. "Where's the danger they always warned us about? The traps, the impossible odds? It's almost like..."

"Like we're being underestimated," I finished for her, my eyes scanning the horizon.

"Exactly!" Julie exclaimed. "It's like this whole thing is holding back, testing us in the shallow end before throwing us into the deep. But why? Are we just lucky, or... is something off?"

I stayed quiet for a moment, considering her words. She wasn't wrong. The stories about the tower painted it as a brutal, unforgiving place, yet so far, it felt almost... manageable.

"Maybe the true challenge hasn't started yet," I said finally. "Or maybe..." I trailed off, glancing at her.

"Maybe what?" she pressed, her curiosity piqued.

"Maybe this is the challenge," I said simply. "Lulling us into a false sense of security, making us think it's easy, only to catch us off guard when it really matters."

Julie shivered, but her smile didn't falter. "Well, if that's the case, I hope you're ready, Goddess Lira. Because I'm definitely not dying here."

I smirked faintly, my gaze hardening. "Neither am I."

Just then, a sudden system message appeared before me, its glow stark against the endless expanse.

[System Message]

Your priestess and her believers have sacrificed an item in exchange for your divine intervention.

Will you spend 5,000 Holy Power to grant their request?

I paused mid-step, the words catching me off guard. Julie, oblivious to the notification, continued ahead, humming some tune that grated on my nerves.

Priestess? Believers? I hadn't even met these so-called followers of mine yet. My mind wandered briefly to the first notification I'd received, where it revealed I had over 290 believers.

"5,000 Holy Power," I muttered to myself. A drop in the ocean compared to my current pool.

Out of curiosity—more than a sense of responsibility—I tapped Yes on the screen.

Immediately, the system responded:

[System Update]

The sacrifice has been accepted. Divine intervention is granted.

A faint golden glow radiated from me, dispersing into the air. I felt a strange, fleeting tug at my consciousness, as if some distant connection had been momentarily strengthened.

Julie glanced back at me, confused. "What's up? Did something happen?"

I didn't bother answering. Instead, I focused on the system prompt that followed:

[System Notification]

The sacrificed item has been transformed into a "Blessed Amulet of Vitality" and delivered to your priestess.

A vision flashed in my mind—a figure kneeling in fervent prayer in some unknown location, clutching what looked like a dull, cracked gemstone. In the vision, it shimmered and morphed into a radiant amulet as the golden light descended upon it.

The vision faded as quickly as it appeared, leaving me with more questions than answers.

"Julie," I said, finally addressing her.

She perked up. "Yeah?"

"If I had followers somewhere, would you have any idea who they might be?"

She blinked, confused. "Followers? Like... worshippers? You? No offense, Lira, but that sounds kind of—"

"Never mind," I cut her off, turning away.

Whoever these believers were, they were far removed from Julie's hedonistic world. The connection I'd felt was faint but sincere—someone out there actually viewed me as a deity worth following.

"Let's keep moving," I said, my tone colder than before. "The sooner we find the next gate, the better."

Julie, clearly puzzled by my shift in mood, shrugged and followed, her usual chatter mercifully subdued.