I thought for a moment before continuing. “It’d be a pretty good deal for you too. We’re not exactly worshipping another god at the moment, and we can at least fix up this chapel. If you want prayer power, I guess we could work some prayer time into our daily routine too.”
I didn’t know how a being like this was supposed to collect “prayer power.” I was pretty sure that artificial spirits in Oraculum had their power boosted to the extreme through generally unethical means like offerings and mana injections. But this horned entity gave me the impression that they got their fill through more benign methods—certainly not anything as terrible as what would be practiced in Oraculum, at least. As far as I could gather, they progressively gathered mana or something like it through worship, among other things. This conjecture was what had prompted my suggestion.
The horned entity reacted with some surprise. “I’d welcome that, but are you sure? I’ve been enshrined here as a deity. From the Church’s perspective, I’m an evil god. Won’t you be in trouble if I’m discovered?”
Unexpectedly, they seemed to be concerned about us—but their statement was a little off the mark. Since this spirit had stayed here for so long, they probably didn’t know much about world events. Asyl didn’t seem like it had ever had much contact with the outside world either, so maybe they were just clueless about society as a whole. A god who was largely ignorant of the world was a bizarre concept, but still possible, I supposed.
I told them, “You don’t need to worry about that. This country, Urizen, is rather tolerant when it comes to religion. A pretty radical group calling themselves the Sect of Forneus has been gaining steam in recent years, but the government hasn’t been able to do much about them. I don’t think anyone will denounce us for worshipping an abandoned deity in a tiny village like—”
“Huh? Hold on. Did you just say ‘Forneus’?” The horned entity asked, their eyes opened wider than I’d seen them yet.
I tilted my head in puzzlement. “Yeah. What about it? They’re a religious organization that’s been rapidly spreading over the past ten years or so. It’s a big issue in Urizen right now.”
“But Forneus is me.”
“Huh?”
“I’m Forneus. At least, that’s what my worshippers called me.”
I was astonished. This is Forneus? The god of the Sect of Forneus? No way, that can’t possibly be right.
The horned entity—or rather, Forneus—quickly concurred. “Well, plenty of humans have the same name as each other. It’s probably something similar,” they said, shaking their head. We wouldn’t know for sure unless we asked the Sect of Forneus, and I doubted they’d give us a useful answer. The organization was home to some intensely radical people like Glydel.
According to Katarina, those people were considered extremists or fundamentalists, whereas ordinary believers led normal, commonplace lives. However, the fanatics were probably the only ones who knew much about the entity Forneus itself. I imagined that the average layman didn’t get in that deep.
But if this was Forneus, would that explain why Glydel had been in this village? He could have easily found some other ghost town. There were plenty of towns that had been abandoned due to encroaching monsters, bandits, natural disasters, or whatever else. He could’ve found two or three other places just like this in the same area. But he’d specifically chosen this place. There had to be some meaning to it. Or maybe I was just overthinking things.
Anyway, it sounds like they might be willing to cooperate with us, so let’s focus on that first.
Mataza, who had been silently listening, suddenly chimed in. “W-Woof... (Mi-Milord...?)”
“What is it? They said they’re willing to work with us, so I wanna discuss that further. Is there an issue with—”
Before I could finish my sentence, Mataza shook his head and spoke. “W-Woof... Wa-woof, woof. (Th-That’s not it... Um, this is terribly difficult to mention, but...)”
“What? Go ahead and spit it out.”
“W-Woof (Y-Yes). Woof...woof woof? (Who exactly...have you been talking to, Milord?)”
“Huh?” My mouth gaped open like a dunce.
Liber followed suit. “W-Woof... Woof? (I wanted to ask as well. Is someone there?)”
“You too, Liber? Then that must mean...”
I wasn’t so dense that I couldn’t come to a realization based on these hints. I had thought that they were staying silent out of consideration and letting me handle everything. But that wasn’t the case. In short, this is...
I turned my gaze to Forneus. The beastman-like sheep-horned spirit smiled cutely.
“Oh, yes. I neglected to mention that I’m only visible to certain people. So I think, out of everyone here, you might be the only person who can see me.”
“That explains it.” It was just as I’d thought. Thinking back on it, there had been signs the whole time. Cath’s reaction had been strange when this spirit grabbed my arm because she couldn’t see them in the first place. Cath was very protective of me, so she should’ve yowled a warning or made a swipe. Instead, she hadn’t reacted at all...or rather, she had reacted peculiarly to something she could sense but not see.
“So that’s what’s been going on. Can you not be heard either?”
“So it seems. Only certain people can hear my voice. The villagers who used to live here called them <Diviners>. The one who put the mana stone in that statue was a <Diviner> too.”
“So what does that make me? Am I a <Diviner> too?”
“I’m not quite sure... I really didn’t expect you to be able to see or hear me.”
“Then why did you grab my arm?”
“Even if people can’t see me, I can give them an uncanny feeling by touching them or speaking. That’s exactly what happened with your kitty. I was going to give you a bit of a spook so that you’d leave.”
“I see. That explains a lot, including why people would abandon this village without taking its rare pseudo-artificial spirit along with them.”
“Does it, now?” Forneus asked blithely. It wasn’t that they didn’t understand what I was implying; on the contrary, they already understood everything and wanted to hear the conclusions I had reached. They had a nastier personality than I’d initially thought. Well, they were like an evil god, so maybe that was obvious.
“Yes, it does,” I said, unfazed. “By that time, there probably wasn’t anyone left who could see you.”
“Indeed. The villagers left a long while after the last <Diviner> stopped coming. I recall the person who last came here saying something along those lines.”
“And they didn’t bring you along with them?”
“No, but I think they tried to.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“What you see there is the idol that tethers me, but there used to be a larger, more magnificent statue which they took. They said to leave this shabby old one behind.”
“So...they mistakenly thought that you resided in the more grandiose one? No way, they couldn’t have been that stupid.”
“Well, they certainly handled it with care, so that’s probably exactly what happened. I took a passive attitude about it and didn’t lift a finger. Well, I couldn’t have, even if I’d wanted to.”
“Really?”
“You tell me. But it’s all right. Because of that, I was able to meet you here today. You’re going to build a town for me, aren’t you?”
“You’ve got that wrong. We’re making a town for us. It just happens that you’ll benefit too.”
“That’s fine. Then shall we make a contract? I’ll follow what you say as the town’s mayor—”
“Ack! Y-You idiot! You just—”
In an instant, I sensed a strange link form between Forneus and myself.