I've set three major goals. 

  

First, save those who were supposed to die within my reach. 

  

Second, find the Holy Maiden. 

  

And finally, third. 

  

The legendary demon. 

  

Interfere with the schemes of Belial, the <King of Darkness>, and take his life. 

  

"Well then, for now..." 

  

In truth, I want to find the Holy Maiden right away, but her exact whereabouts won't be revealed until three years from now. 

  

So it's nearly impossible to find her right away. 

  

I'm not sure if I could find her if I went to the Pantheon, but considering my current location, it's too far. 

  

And as for Belial, I can't do anything right now without any foundation. 

  

So what I need to prioritize is... 

  

"The first goal." 

  

My connections. Or the potential heroes that Belial eliminated while operating in secret. 

  

Pulling them out of the swamp of Belial's schemes. The first goal is ultimately related to the third goal. 

  

Create connection points with them along the way to the Pantheon. 

  

In the process, save those who can be saved and kill those who need to be killed. 

  

"At this point, I have a plan, so should I eat first?" 

  

Considering what I need to do from now on, I'll have to move quickly. 

  

*     *     * 

  

I'm not sure if I should call it a coincidence or good luck. 

  

I remember quite clearly what period this is. 

  

I've only spent about two days in this village since I arrived. 

  

That's because I spent one night at the inn and then left for the Duchy of Foris, a big city, by carriage the next day. 

  

And the reason I remember this so clearly is because it's the place where I, who had been living in the forest, first tasted the bitterness of life. 

  

Between eating breakfast at the inn and getting on the carriage, I lost most of my money and the sword my master left me to a pickpocket. 

  

I'm in the middle of that process now. 

  

The only difference is that I'm not as naive as I was back then. 

  

"I really was an idiot." 

  

"Argh!" 

  

Crack! 

  

I pull in the wrist of the guy who was moving past me, trying to steal my pocket and sword, and stab him with a knife. 

  

To think I didn't realize I was being pickpocketed when it was this obvious, this blatant. 

  

After connecting the guy's hand to the table with a knife, I check what kind of person he is. 

  

"Haha...!" 

  

He was an employee of the inn. 

  

This is an interesting situation. Seeing this, I suspect it wasn't just a random pickpocketing of my pocket. 

  

Yesterday, I must have carelessly shown all the money I had to the innkeeper, not knowing how the world works. 

  

Knowing there was more money in the pocket than expected, it's quite possible they thought to target this naive kid. 

  

"Cu-Customer! What are you doing!" 

  

The innkeeper, who had been observing the situation, finally yells at me. 

  

"Ah, sorry. It seemed like your employee had some bad habits. I was giving him a lesson he'll remember deeply." 

  

"If there's any educating to be done, I'll do it!" 

  

"Then will you take responsibility as well?" 

  

"......" 

  

He suddenly shuts his mouth. 

  

He doesn't want to see the employee get hurt, but he doesn't want to take responsibility either. Well, what can you do? 

  

Most people are like that. 

  

"If you really want to take responsibility, I won't take any more violent actions. What will you do?" 

  

"...Is that true?" 

  

"Yes." 

  

At a glance, this probably wasn't the first time something like this has happened. I wonder if he's knowingly letting it happen, or if he's in on it. 

  

Either way, it doesn't matter. 

  

In the end, I was able to safely protect my sword and money. 

  

There's no need to do more than this. 

  

"Then please do so." 

  

"I will." 

  

"Argh!" 

  

I pull out the knife and send the guy towards the innkeeper, as if chasing him out. 

  

"...Go inside and treat your wound." 

  

"Yes..." 

  

What a close relationship. 

  

My suspicions are growing stronger. 

  

"Well then, let's have a little chat." 

  

I headed towards the counter where the innkeeper was standing, still holding the knife. 

  

I said I wouldn't continue violent actions, but as long as I'm holding this, he can't help but be nervous. 

  

I don't need to worry about it. 

  

"Innkeeper, do you believe in gods?" 

  

"...Gods, you say?" 

  

"Yes, how many people in this world don't believe in gods? In a world where so many gods exist." 

  

There's even a group called the Pantheon that records the register of gods. 

  

In this world, there are truly many faiths, and all of them become power. 

  

Just among those called celestial gods, there are more than three. 

  

There are also gods that I, the priests of the Pantheon, don't know about. 

  

"Since you run an inn, you might believe in the god of comfort, or the god of peace, or the god of warmth. Or maybe... the god of thieves?" 

  

"......" 

  

Among them, there are also gods classified as evil gods. 

  

It might be considered a biased view, but those who believe in them are called heretics and cults. 

  

Just believing in them not only adds to that god's power but also exercising their authority can be troublesome. 

  

"I hope you believe in a decent god." 

  

Scratch. 

  

I use the knife I brought to carve a scar on the inn's counter. 

  

Once horizontally short and once vertically long. A faint light remains where the knife tip carved. 

  

The innkeeper's expression turns to confusion and then belatedly turns pale at the scar carved with a total of two knife strokes. 

  

"There are many who act on behalf of the gods, and their eyes might be on you." 

  

This should be enough. 

  

I've spoken using the name of a god, so he should understand well what I mean. 

  

"Well then, I'll see you next time, innkeeper." 

  

I leave after paying for the breakfast I ate. 

  

As I was walking away, I remembered something I had forgotten and turned back to say: 

  

"Don't overcharge too much." 

  

By the time I left, the innkeeper's face had turned completely pale. 

  

*     *     * 

  

The man whose hand had been pierced by the knife was grumbling, clutching his bandaged hand. 

  

But when he came out again, the other party had already disappeared. 

  

"Damn it!" 

  

He let the man who stabbed his hand go. The man, belatedly realizing this fact, shouted in anger. 

  

"Boss! You just let that bastard go? Look what he did to my hand!" 

  

"Shut up." 

  

"Shouldn't we gather the boys and go after him now? How could you just let him go after what he did to me!" 

  

"You stupid fool, do you know who you messed with? Look at this." 

  

"What?" 

  

The innkeeper angrily pointed to the scar carved on the counter. There, a cross-shaped scar was still emitting a faint light of holy power. 

  

"A cross? What, is he a priest? Are you saying you let that bastard go because you're afraid of divine punishment?" 

  

"You idiot, do you think he would have carved this standing next to me?" 

  

"What do you mean?" 

  

"He drew this in front of me. If it looks like a cross to me, how do you think it looked to him?" 

  

"If the cross is reversed, then it's an inverted..." 

  

The shouting man's complexion gradually became similar to the innkeeper's as he belatedly realized. 

  

The other party carved an inverted cross and left. 

  

Anyone who knows what that means knows. 

  

"Those who serve the gods but bow their heads in shame. The special disposal team that handles the dirty work of the Pantheon." 

  

"An inquisitor...?" 

  

"If it were a knight or a noble, we might have a chance, but if you mess with an inquisitor, you'll end up with your neck in a noose before anyone knows what happened." 

  

The innkeeper touched the scar as if he had goosebumps. 

  

If it were a noble or a knight, they might have thought it was an impersonation. 

  

But inquisitors are an exception. 

  

There's no one crazy enough to impersonate them, and even if there were, they'd have to be completely insane. 

  

Moreover, the other party was a priest. The visible traces of holy power are proof of that. 

  

A priest wouldn't impersonate in such an undignified way. 

  

"Don't cause any trouble until that guy leaves town. We might get caught in the crossfire. No, just don't cause any trouble for a while. We might already be under scrutiny." 

  

The man nodded with a pale face at the innkeeper's words. 

  

We can't be certain that there's only one inquisitor who has come to this town. 

  

Other inquisitors might already be preparing to work here, and if we accidentally offend them, we might be killed in a horrible way. 

  

"...Let's start by lowering the lodging fee." 

  

*     *     * 

  

My life has never been smooth sailing, and my first journey was no exception. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

  

As with what happened this morning, I was pickpocketed in the first town I arrived in. 

  

So what happened after that? 

  

No matter how much I looked, I couldn't find my sword and money, and I needed to find a job to survive. 

  

Just then, there was a carriage in front of me offering to take kids to the big city, the Duchy of Foris, for free. 

  

What would I do in that situation? 

  

"I'd get on, of course." 

  

If I didn't know that it was actually human traffickers working with bandits, there couldn't be anything more reasonable. 

  

What else could I do, having fallen for the elaborate setup that started at the inn? 

  

This is truly surprising. 

  

The fact that at the end of these human traffickers' chain, after many twists and turns, it connects to the demons under Belial. 

  

Perhaps my return to 10 years ago was fate. 

  

"Excuse me..." 

  

"......" 

  

It was when I was nearing the entrance of the village. I was planning to observe the situation a bit, remembering that I had taken the carriage about 3-4 days from now. 

  

Someone grabbed me from behind. 

  

There doesn't seem to be any malice, but the fact that they could approach so cautiously shows they're not ordinary. 

  

"Is there a problem?" 

  

"Ah, well, you see..." 

  

When I turned around to check the face. 

  

I had to admit. This is indeed someone who might grab me from behind. 

  

10 years ago, at the moment when we were attacked by bandits, the reason I was able to survive was none other than... 

  

Thanks to this girl right in front of me, wearing a hood. 

  

Hair as black as ebony and mysterious purple eyes. 

  

"If you're thinking of taking the carriage, I think it's better not to..." 

  

It seems she heard my muttering. I'm not sure why she was following me, though. 

  

The person who saved the children with just a dagger against the bandit attack. 

  

Or the 'Human Butcher' who literally butchered the bandits' flesh and bones. 

  

Linea Spirin. 

  

She whispered to me with an exaggerated attitude. Something was poking up from under her hood. 

  

"A, a scary person is making a fuss about getting on the carriage. So the uncle is insisting that the operation day is three days later... I thought things might get complicated if you go there now..." 

  

I see, so this is why I was able to take the same carriage as her three days later. 

  

It seems they postponed the departure to three days later because of that scary person. 

  

"I see. Thank you for letting me know." 

  

"No, no! I just felt like I should tell you." 

  

It's unnecessary meddling. 

  

But it's her own way of doing good. 

  

She's probably been standing here, dissuading people like me continuously. 

  

Even though no one asked her to do so. 

  

I could see the hood that was poking up earlier drooping in relief. 

  

She seems to be trying to hide that she's a beastkin by wearing a hood, but she's unexpectedly a bit clumsy. 

  

The first hero who saved me was this young. Different from the mature image in my memories. 

  

"Then I'll try to resolve it." 

  

"What?" 

  

Yes, just like this. 

  

She was such a naive girl. 

  

A person no different from me. 

  

Not a hero, just a girl who had a bit more courage than others. 

  

A girl who took up a sword to save others, fought against bandits, and ended up being called a butcher. 

  

Even considering the favor she did, I'll admit her methods were excessive. 

  

Her being a beastkin probably contributed to those brutal methods. 

  

Beastkin are often avoided by people due to their characteristic violent wildness. 

  

She was someone who lived helping others steadfastly without getting angry, even while receiving such contempt. 

  

People couldn't bring themselves to criticize her, they just avoided her. 

  

A girl who died lonely like that. 

  

"I'll handle it." 

  

I remember her final moments. The image of her hanging herself alone in solitude. 

  

And seeing her current appearance, worrying and fidgeting with her mouth, I could be certain. 

  

"You don't need to force yourself." 

  

She shouldn't have died like that. 

  

"I'll do it this time." 

  

"This time?" 

  

Once again, her fox ears poke up from under her hood. 

  

She slightly furrows her brow, seemingly pondering the meaning of my words. 

  

I passed by her like that, heading towards where the carriage was. 

  

10 years ago, right now. Linea Spirin, who struggled among the boys and girls. 

  

This time, I'll take over her struggle and erase her infamy. 

  

When I arrived at the destination like that. 

  

"Oh my, what's this now." 

  

A being with a build easily exceeding 3 meters was arguing loudly with the carriage owner. 

  

It seems I need to make a slight correction. Linea Spirin isn't just a little clumsy... 

  

"That's not a scary 'person', is it? The criteria for humanity are too broad here." 

  

She seems to be quite clumsy. 

  

What's in front of me isn't a person, but a green muscle monster. 

  

In other words, an orc.