The Book of Orthodox Creadism was sectioned into three parts.
I wouldn't have been able to finish reading the book before tiredness took over me, however, it seemed I didn't have to.
As I opened to the first page, Zarveno's memories kicked in.
I've read this book back to front many times already!
It only made sense. After all, I was a priest of the religion.
And so, rather than reading, I went over the newfound knowledge inside of my mind.
Creadism was a religion centred around a man named Cread. He claimed to be God incarnate and was punished for such claims. Captured by his enemies, Cread was pinned to a cross and eventually struck by lightning during a thunderstorm.
I'm guessing Rubiana was inspired by Christianity when creating this religion...
There were hundreds of other minor details that came along with the story, some of which were not written down in the book of Creadism; however, what was most important was the powers that came with following the religion.
Orthodox Creadism believed that the most important aspect of Cread's life was being struck by lightning. They believed that it was an important symbol of faith, and thus, their powers awakened as such.
As I came to this realisation, I began to further understand the abilities that were accessible to me.
Being a priest, which was the third rank of the Creadist power system, I was able to draw a decent amount of power from my beliefs. However, this was still limited to abilities ranked around C.
Assuming this world was anything like other stories that I had read, I guessed that although I was above the average in terms of magic, the gap between myself and the most powerful people in the Blessed World was universal.
At the moment, I only had access to three abilities. I yearned to try them, however, none seemed safe enough to use indoors.
And so, after closing the book, I decided to explore the church in hopes of more memories coming back to me and perhaps finding out more useful information.
———
My room contained a lantern, which was already lit, so I lifted it and stepped out of my chambers and into the dark corridors of my deceased father's church.
I found myself on a balcony, looking down at the main area of the building, which was a bunch of stands facing towards a raised platform at the far end.
Seeing the location made memories come back to me.
As a youth, I had watched my father deliver sermons on the platform to a small congregation of believers. After his death, I took over. Every Sunday, I would stand on that same stage and tell people about the glorious life of Cread.
I knew nothing about the man... or God, but the more time I spent in that body, the more respect I found myself having towards him.
It was a strange feeling.
After making my way down the stairs and towards the large wooden door which would lead outside, I suddenly noticed a powerful feeling weighing upon me.
It was like a weight was resting on my entire being, making it slightly harder to move and even breathe!
And it only got stronger the closer I moved towards the door.
I stood there staring at the exit.
Is there some sort of beast waiting for me outside?
...
No... I would be able to hear it, right?
But still, it seems like a serious risk of travelling outside unarmed.
Wait a minute... I'm not unarmed. I have the greatest weapon that a man could ask for.
Magic.
However, one of my abilities granted me the power to enshroud a weapon in the essence of lightning. At the bare minimum, I should look for some sort of sword.
And so, I travelled around the dark corners of the church, in search for exactly that.
My mind carried my feet towards the raised platform where I would stand to deliver my sermon.
At first, I was confused. What could I possibly find there?
But on top of the stage was a stand, where I would rest the book of Orthodox Creadism when reading to the congregation, and down the length of the Stand was a secret compartment.
As I pulled it open, I was met with the sight of a shortsword, designed to be welded in one hand. Its condition was worn, but the blade was still marvellous.
On earth, I had never seen such weaponry, but in The Blessed World, I seemed to be familiar.
As I took the weapon in my mind, another block of information filled my mind.
Name: Worn Steel Shortsword
Rank: E
Type: One-Handed Sword
Description: A standard steel shortsword. Reliable and balanced, but worn down, decreasing its rank by one.
⌠ Weapon Abilities ⌡
— None —
⌠ Wielder's Buffs ⌡
— None —
———
I was surprised to find that not only did I have a system, but the weapons did, too.
And it seemed that the only weapon I owned, was a weak one.
Priest is a Faith Rank above the average believer. Doesn't that mean I should have an above-average weapon?
I let out a sigh, accepting that Zaven must have been a man who relied on his spells rather than magic. It definitely wasn't unheard of.
Then, after closing the compartment, I made my way back towards the door, feeling the presence dawning on me once again.
I kept my weapon gripped tightly in my hand as I placed my hands against the wooden door and pushed it open.
Instantly, the wind of the night washed over me, sending satisfying chills through my body. The air smelt herbal, and being outside seemed to relax my mind, if only for a moment.
As seen before, directly outside of the church was an ancient cemetery. My mind told me that it was reserved only for previous owners of the church.
I saw an empty grave with a stone inscribed with my name. It seemed I had already prepared for my own death.
But most importantly, I found the source of the presence weighing down on me.
At the centre of the cemetery was a diagram painted into the ground.
It was the pattern of a star with a circle inscribed around it, and the diagram covered almost the entire field.
As I focused on the diagram, an ominous image filled my head, carrying the darkness with it.
[RITUAL DETECTED]
Name: The Long Dead
Type: Survival
Danger Rank: Moderate
Reward Tier: B
[STEP FORWARD TO BEGIN]