The old nun turned and walked toward the center of the church, and Linde instinctively followed her.
"The Circle of Magic is broken, disaster emerges, the flame of life is about to be extinguished..."
"I know," Linde interjected, cutting off what sounded like a video game intro. He noticed that her mental state was fragile, as if she'd suffered a great shock.
The old nun stopped and turned, staring at Linde with eyes that seemed to bulge out of their sockets.
As if to say: You tell it, then!
Linde gave an awkward smile and gestured for her to continue.
"The Gods have fallen asleep," the old nun continued walking. "The Gods have abandoned us, or are struggling themselves. Six months ago, we could still contact Goliath."
"What happened? Why can't you contact them now?" Linde asked immediately.
The old nun stopped, positioning herself perfectly in front of the stone statue of the head of the Storm Knight's greatsword, letting the sunlight fall on her, bathing her in a golden glow. She looked divinely radiant.
"The end of the world, loss of power," she said. "They began to pursue a purer truth, but the truth is always hard to accept."
"Truth?" Linde frowned slightly, not quite understanding.
She led Linde deeper into the church, pushing open the iron-clad door. A stench washed over them.
Covering his nose, Linde looked inside. There were bodies clad in church vestments, their limbs twisted grotesquely.
It was the first time Linde had ever seen a person's legs twisted into a DNA-like double helix, yet maintaining enough space between them, not interfering with each other.
Or arms twisted into a double helix, like braided rope.
And there were corpses with protruding spines, hanging by their necks like grotesque teru teru bozu dolls.
It was as if these bodies were twisting themselves as much as possible, using their bodies to create a rhythm, to sense "the truth."
Linde now understood why they couldn't contact Goliath. Everyone in the church was dead, except for the old nun.
"What truth were they pursuing?" Linde asked immediately.
Given that no one outside the broken Circle of Magic could obtain powerful strength, it was surprising that the church, even six months ago, still had the opportunity to pursue greater power.
Linde was intrigued.
With the appearance of the players, he was certain he couldn't remain ordinary. He had no choice; he had to have power.
"The moon's gaze, Death's stare, the sun's radiance, mortals greedily demand from the gods, unaware that even a fleeting glance from a god contains wisdom incomprehensible to mortals. That is the truth of power, the truth of magic."
She continued speaking in a manner resembling a hymn. After listening for a bit, Linde began examining the surrounding corpses. He eventually discovered a book amongst the twisted bones.
Just then, the old nun stopped and looked at Linde with bulging, somewhat lifeless eyes.
Praise the Sun
Linde thought to himself, "The players would definitely love this book."
He pried apart the white finger bones clutching the book tightly, picked up the book, and began to leaf through it.
It was a thin booklet, written in black ink.
A hymn?
Linde didn't know the melody, so he read it to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," and found it surprisingly fitting.
It was a strange, confusing book, seemingly recounting a piece of history, describing some kind of knowledge, or simply being a song of praise.
He closed the thin booklet and noticed the old nun was staring at him with an intense gaze.
"Can you explain in detail how they turned into this?" Linde was made uneasy by her stare. It was as if, in her eyes, he too might twist into some kind of monster at any moment.
"A potion to steal divine authority," she said.
"A potion!" Linde was a bit excited. His past self wasn't a cultivation genius, didn't qualify to be a Church Knight, and had no way to become a powerful figure who could fly and escape through the earth.
A drug that makes you stronger? Perfect for him.
"After taking it, you will hear the whispers of the gods," the old nun said, trying to dissuade Linde. She'd seen that look on too many people. "The clever become more deranged, the foolish offer their flesh, the obsessed become more fanatical, only the God-chosen may endure."
Her gaze rested on Linde, as if she considered him a fool or an obsessed one, not even clever enough, so she wasn't planning on telling him about the potion.
These clergy members with twisted bodies were probably all "fools."
"Yes, of course, the gods always choose people with unique qualities," Linde nodded, thinking to himself, I happen to have some God-chosen people in my territory. They're definitely God-chosen.
He could finally expand his inventory.
"Excuse me, what is your name?"
He had a better way to get information from this rambling old woman.
"Airuna."
"Alright, Mother Airuna," Linde nodded, tucking the book under his arm. "I am Linde, the lord of Star Dragon Outpost. A group of rather peculiar individuals has appeared there, and I believe they might be the God-chosen you speak of, although their behavior is a little... unorthodox." Linde said, "Mother Airuna, if you are interested, I'd like to invite you to my territory to continue spreading the doctrine of the sun."
He paused, then said, "In return, I will provide you with enough food and shelter from the elements."
Mother Airuna's cheek twitched slightly, then she nodded. "I think you may also be God-chosen. Please, come with me. There may be something there that you need."
"Of course, thank you very much!" Linde said with a smile.
A lonely old woman, holed up in a dilapidated church, must be at her breaking point to have endured this long. Winter wouldn't be as forgiving as summer.
Linde was certain she wouldn't refuse. Even if the church did have food, there probably wasn't much left after half a year.
Getting his hands on a so-called potion to steal divine authority while also recruiting an apparently hymn-spouting, loopy old nun NPC? Where else would you find such a sweet deal?
Dear players, I've found you a mascot! Even if she's wrinkled and grumpy.
That was just a joke, though. He couldn't hire a somewhat mentally unstable old woman as a mascot. Unless he wanted to drive his undead players away. Players are all about aesthetics; looking good is paramount.
A nutty NPC would feed many players' imaginations, giving them a sense of hidden quests and storylines. Linde could take this opportunity to have Mother Airuna issue specific tasks.
But absolutely no way could Mother Airuna be the mascot!
He couldn't be the one giving out all the quests. If Linde wanted to turn Star Dragon Outpost into a player hub, he had to refine the functionality and have a variety of NPC types.
Ideally, he'd build a real newbie village.
Before officially hiring her, he'd definitely need a sales pitch, and he believed Mother Airuna could handle it. After all, when it comes to persuasive language, church clergy are professionals.
Linde followed Mother Airuna to a room at the back of the church, where a collapsed bookshelf held a parchment-bound book about 30 centimeters long.
He picked up the so-called diary for "stealing divine authority" and gently brushed off the dust.
"Crowley's Diary."