Translator: CinderTL
You have gained the attention of a dragon.
This brief line of text, like an unresolved riddle, had remained unchanged since its appearance, offering no further clues.
During this time, Roland had repeatedly attempted to focus his consciousness on the option representing the Sorcerer class, but the feedback remained consistently cold and uniform:
The host does not meet the requirements for this class.
This frustrating lack of progress left him deeply perplexed, inevitably drawing his thoughts to other equally enigmatic matters:
The blessings of the gods.
As far as he knew, at least three deities were currently connected to him:
Shar, Selune, and Lothander.
Shar, the mysterious Goddess of Death, had appeared when he was on the brink of death, leaving the initial mark of her blessing.
Lothander, the Lord of a Billion Lights, had bestowed a blessing imbued with Dawn's Power during the Radiant Blessing Ceremony of the Blazing Sun Church.
But the most enigmatic of all was Selune.
In his vague perception, this goddess seemed to have once clashed with Shar's strength within his very body.
After that, Shar, whose presence he had occasionally sensed and with whom he had even briefly communicated, vanished completely, offering no further response.
According to Galvis, as one blessed by multiple gods, Roland should have been a highly favored "chosen one."
Yet deep within his heart, Roland felt something entirely different.
He didn't feel like a cherished favorite, but rather like...
...an object casually manipulated by the gods.
Logically, receiving divine blessings should have meant entering the gods' awareness and establishing some kind of connection.
But in reality, apart from the specific attribute bonuses clearly listed on his Job Panel, he felt no tangible connection or guidance from these three gods in his daily life.
Even when he was cursed by an abyssal demon and his life was threatened, Lothander, the revered Lord of Radiance, should have been able to easily purify such a level of corruption. Yet the god showed no divine signs and offered no assistance.
This contradictory phenomenon gradually led Roland to two hypotheses.
Either he, this so-called "chosen one," was not unique in the eyes of the lofty gods, but merely one of many interchangeable options, unworthy of their focused attention.
Or the gods themselves might be subject to some limitation, unable to establish a stable, direct, and substantial connection with the material plane he inhabited.
Otherwise...
His thoughts drifted back to Shar.
If these gods truly possessed the supreme power described in legends—the ability to arbitrarily interfere with reality—then the Goddess of Death, who seemed particularly "fond" of him, should have unhesitatingly claimed his life long ago, drawing his soul into her divine realm, rather than merely appearing faintly at the brink of his death.
Or perhaps...
Recalling Lothander's amused demeanor during the Radiant Blessing Ceremony, Roland suspected that both reasons might be at play.
The attention of the gods might be real, but it was shrouded in uncertainty, distance, and perhaps even a purpose beyond mortal comprehension.
In this grand game of chess orchestrated by the gods, he might truly be nothing more than a special pawn, or even...
An amusing toy that had captured the interest of multiple "players."
This realization deepened Roland's doubts about his status as a "chosen one."
He recalled Theresa's words: true chosen ones, upon receiving divine gifts, often bore an unexplained curse or negative consequence.
For example, after gaining the attention of Oghma, God of Truth, Theresa had been afflicted with insatiable gluttony, her appetite far exceeding normal human limits.
In contrast, despite receiving blessings from Shar, Selune, and Lothander—with the granted traits clearly listed on his Job Panel—Roland had yet to experience any discernible negative repercussions.
This discrepancy fueled his suspicion.
Could it be that he wasn't a true chosen one, but merely...
Had he accidentally piqued the fleeting interest of some God, who casually bestowed upon him abilities that seemed insignificant in the divine eye?
Just as he was lost in thought, the tent flap gently parted, and Theresa entered carrying a simple meal.
Roland thanked her and took the food, casually asking, "What's the situation outside?"
Theresa replied calmly, "King Monen says he's fatigued and plans to rest for the night. He's already sent messengers to Golden Grain City, demanding Lucius's surrender. If they refuse... we'll launch the attack at dawn tomorrow."
Roland immediately understood Monen's intentions.
The King still wanted to give his eldest son one last chance to turn back.
He didn't say much, partly because his voice carried little weight, and partly because, given the overwhelming disparity in strength, whether they attacked today or tomorrow seemed to make little difference.
Silence returned to the tent. Roland slowly chewed his food, the recent rapid advances of the war flashing through his mind.
King Monen's display of near-absolute crushing power was indeed reassuring.
Thinking of King Monen, a demigod walking among mortals, Roland's nerves, perpetually taut due to the abyssal demons, finally relaxed somewhat.
Monen might spare Lucius out of familial affection, but the enraged king would show no mercy to Arno, the other ostensible mastermind.
The reckoning was at hand, and Arno would pay dearly for his betrayal.
As for the abyssal demon colluding with Arno...
Though its exact strength remained unclear, the fact that it relied on schemes rather than direct confrontation suggested its power fell far short of Monen's peak prowess.
Perhaps this demon hunt, initially perceived as fraught with peril and uncertain outcomes, would conclude unexpectedly swiftly and easily.
With these thoughts, Roland turned his attention back to the matter of the chosen ones.
"After this war ends, I should find a chance to ask Galvis, who has seen more of the world, or Gloria, another chosen one, whether they also bear a corresponding burden alongside their divine gifts, just like Theresa."
As he pondered this, soft yet distinct footsteps approached the tent and stopped at the entrance.
Gloria's voice followed, carrying a perfectly measured tone of politeness.
"Lord Roland, are you inside? May I come in?"
"Please do, Your Highness."
The tent flap parted again, and Gloria's figure appeared in the lamplight.
She seemed to have just finished her duties, a faint trace of fatigue lingering on her face, but her eyes remained clear and focused.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, she cut straight to the point, her gaze fixed on Roland.
"Lord Roland, once this war is completely over... what are your plans?"
Her question came somewhat abruptly.
Though her tone was calm, it seemed to carry an unspoken depth, causing the air in the tent to thicken slightly.
(End of the Chapter)
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