I sat on the edge of a simple but clean bed in a small room at the city's main inn, staring at the wall.
Well, that didn't go over well. Apparently, telling the absolute truth about their divine messengers to the most religious man in the city is considered a major social faux pas. Who knew? The resulting lecture on blasphemy, piety, and the perfection of celestial beings lasted for a solid thirty minutes.
After Kerina finally managed to placate the high priest, she brought me here. She said she would find someone to teach me what I wanted, and then left me with a firm "stay put."
And what is it that I want? I looked out the window at the bustling city street below. It's simple, really. I just want to understand the rules of this new world.
I began to pace the small inn room. My corporate brain took over, processing the situation like a new market entry strategy.
"Okay, let's assess the business landscape of Aerthos... The primary growth sector is 'adventuring' due to a risk-averse workforce and high demand for monster subjugation. The barrier to entry seems low, but the risk of liquidation actual, permanent liquidation is high."
Could I do it? My only "asset" was a magic trick. It felt like trying to start a shipping company with only a single, flimsy canoe. But then I remembered the chaotic scene in the carriage. The light. Azakiel's frantic, unprofessional apology. The "physical compensation package."
I stopped pacing and focused, calling the familiar black interface into the air before me. I navigated straight to the [SKILLS] menu. It looked different now.
[ SKILLS LIST ]
> Perfect Illusion (Godly)
Description: Creates a flawless, tangible illusion.
Cost: None.
Cooldown: None.
> Superhuman Body (Divine - Passive)
Description: The user's physical vessel has been reinforced by a divine intervention.
Effects: Significantly increased strength. Greatly enhanced durability (hardened skin). Reduced stamina consumption. Accelerated healing from minor wounds.
I read the description of the new passive skill, my eyes scanning each detail. My risk assessment began to change fundamentally.
"A passive physical buff, harder to damage, harder to get tired." The gears were turning. "Combined with an untraceable, perfect decoy..."
A slow, calculating smile spread across my face. The adventurer path was no longer just a high-risk gamble. With these assets, it was a viable, logical career move.
With a viable career path identified, the next logical step was to test my primary asset. Azakiel, in her frantic apology, had called the illusion 'tangible'. I needed to know exactly what that meant.
I focused, and my silent duplicate shimmered into existence near the foot of the simple wooden bed. "Alright, let's test the parameters."
I directed my will at the illusion, commanding it to lift the bed. The duplicate bent at the knees, its hands gripping the wooden frame. Then, with what appeared to be effortless ease, it lifted the heavy piece of furniture a foot into the air.
I watched, a slow nod of approval on my face. The illusion was doing the heavy lifting, but I didn't feel a single bit of strain. My stamina was completely untouched.
Excellent,Physical labor can be outsourced. I thought.
I had the duplicate set the bed down gently. Next, I needed to test for weaknesses. For the next several minutes, I directed my illusion around the room in a series of simple tests. I had it open the door to the wardrobe. I made it pick up a clay cup from the nightstand. I had it push against the stone wall. In every instance, the interaction was flawless. The world responded to the illusion as if it were truly there. It seemed my godly-tier magic trick was a surprisingly robust piece of software.
I let the duplicate fade and sat back on the bed, my mind racing. The power created a tangible illusion based on my will. My duplicate was just an illusion of me. What if I applied the same principle differently? What if I created an illusion of the empty space I was occupying, and projected it directly onto my own body?
The thought was too powerful to ignore. I stood up and closed my eyes, focusing. I pictured the empty room and willed the illusion to cover me completely. To my own sight, nothing had changed, but I felt a new sense of confidence. I had to test it.
I strode right through the middle of the common room, past a table of laughing merchants. No one looked up. No one flinched. To them, I simply wasn't there. I walked silently behind the front desk, where a young woman was diligently writing in a large ledger. To test the limits of interaction, I reached out and gently placed my hands on her shoulders.
She flinched for a second, startled by the sudden contact from nowhere, but as I began to gently massage the tense muscles in her shoulders, her posture relaxed. She let out a soft sigh of pleasure.
"Ahh..." she murmured quietly to herself, rolling her shoulder into my unseen hands. "Ah, why do my shoulders feel so good all of a sudden?"
She glanced around briefly, saw nothing, and then simply closed her eyes, enjoying the mysterious sensation. Having confirmed what I needed to know, I stopped and silently walked away, slipping past the kitchen door and into the backrooms to continue my exploration, a ghost in their midst.
I slipped past the kitchen, where cooks were busy shouting and chopping, and found a quieter storage area in the back. A portly man, likely an off-duty kitchen hand, was resting on a crate, wiping sweat from his brow with a rag. He had just finished a drink and set the empty wooden tankard down beside him.
Time to test indirect interaction, I thought.
While he was catching his breath, I silently crept over and picked up the empty tankard. I then walked across the small room and placed it carefully on top of a tall stack of flour sacks, well above his head.
A moment later, the man sighed and reached for his tankard without looking. His hand met empty air. He patted the crate beside him, a confused look spreading across his face. He looked down, saw it was gone, and his eyes scanned the room until they finally landed on the tankard, perched ridiculously on the sacks.
"How in the..." he muttered, getting up with a groan. He retrieved his cup, shaking his head as if questioning his own sanity, and sat back down.
As he settled in, I walked over to a stack of empty wooden boxes. I gave the bottom one a sharp kick.
CRASH!
The box clattered loudly onto the stone floor. The man leaped to his feet, his eyes wide with terror as he whipped around, searching for the source of the noise. He saw nothing but the toppled box in the otherwise still room. His confusion had now turned to genuine fear. I slipped out before he could start screaming about ghosts.
My successful experiments in the inn only led to another, more extreme question. The illusion could fool the distracted and the unsuspecting, but what were its true limits? I needed a definitive test. A trial under conditions where discovery would be socially catastrophic.
My wandering through the city brought me to a public bathhouse. It was the perfect, high-stakes testing ground.
I walked past the men's entrance and, with the cold resolve of a scientist testing a hypothesis, I slipped through the curtained doorway of the women's side. The air was thick with steam, and the sound of splashing water echoed off the stone walls.
This wasn't about perversion; a man who couldn't control himself had no business wielding a power like this. This was a clinical test of my ability and my own discipline.
I walked slowly around the edge of the large, steaming bath. I stood still in a high-traffic area. I waved my hand directly in front of a woman's face as she spoke to her friend. There was no reaction. No flicker of recognition, not even a subconscious glance in my direction. They were completely, utterly oblivious to my presence.
I turned and walked out, the test complete. The conclusion was absolute. I was really, truly invisible.
With the test concluded, I walked out of the onsen and into the flow of the bustling street. I found a spot with a moderate number of people milling about, took a breath, and simply let the illusion drop.
There was no sound, no flash of light. I just... was. A man standing nearby blinked, did a double-take, and shook his head as if clearing a strange spot from his vision. A woman who was about to walk through the space I now occupied stopped abruptly with a confused gasp. The effect was exactly what I'd hoped for: subtle, localized, and disorienting. I gave a small, satisfied nod.
Then, a calm voice cut through the street noise, directed squarely at me.
"I don't know who you are, but I saw you disappear earlier. Who are you?"
My satisfaction evaporated. I turned slowly towards the voice. Leaning against the wall of a building was a man, watching me with sharp, observant eyes. He was dressed in the practical, durable gear of an adventurer, though he lacked Kerina's sharp-edged intensity. He was a little shorter than me, with an average, lean build, but he held himself with a relaxed confidence that suggested he was more than capable.
To Be Continued.