I had a look. There was a symbol that looked like Chem’s holy book, along with a number.
“As your village’s population increases, so will your FP. It will also increase when your prophecies earn the gratitude of the villagers.”
So I’d earn more FP if my prophecies were helpful. I’d have to think more carefully about what I wrote in the future.
“This is a list of miracles you can perform. As your village improves and your population increases, you will unlock more powerful miracles.”
My opinion of this game was going up and down like a seesaw. With this new development, I found myself hooked once more. I scrolled down the list of miracles.
“Doesn’t look like I can just give them items. Let’s see… ‘Spawn a traveling merchant,’ ‘Spawn a traveling physician,’ ‘Spawn a hunter,’ ‘Reunite with escaped villagers.’ Right, I get it. I’m the God of Fate, so my power is all about influencing the fates of people. Ah, and there are some weather-related miracles. Guess that’s a pretty godlike thing to do.”
Finally, something that counted as gameplay!
I only had 100 FP to start with, maybe from earning my villagers’ gratitude for helping them escape the monsters. It made sense that the game would start you off with a little to play with, but it wasn’t enough to do much. I had to choose carefully. I decided to save them, even though I really wanted to try a miracle. After all, I didn’t know what my villagers needed yet. I should probably listen to what they had to say before sending any miracles their way.
Gams and Rodice were busy chopping trees in silence, and it didn’t look like I was going to get much out of them. Though Rodice was trying hard to make conversation, Gams wasn’t replying with much more than an occasional “yeah.”
“Good luck, Rodice,” I muttered, deciding it would make more sense to see what the women were doing for now.
“How much food did you manage to take, Lyra?” asked Chem as she and Lyra picked plants together.
“Three boxes, so about two weeks’ supply as long as we’re careful. Which is a miracle, given how bad things looked.”
“Two weeks… That’ll go by in a flash.”
Food, huh?
I wondered if the traveling merchant would sell food, but I didn’t even know if my villagers had any money. They might be perfectly capable of gathering their own food if I just left them to it. What I really wanted was to know what options they had for gathering food in the area.
“Maybe I should make Gams do some recon tomorrow? But I dunno if it’d be safe to leave the others by themselves…”
By searching the surrounding area, it would be easier to prepare my villagers for possible threats. At the same time, I didn’t know what was out there. It might be more dangerous to split them up.
I didn’t know what to do. From a gaming perspective, sending the kid to explore the area would be the best choice, since she wasn’t really doing anything. She was pretty much useless to the village, so if something killed her, it wouldn’t be such a big loss.
I couldn’t bring myself to do it. These characters just felt too human—I couldn’t send a little kid into danger and live with myself. They were all working so hard, making the best of their lives. If I took those lives for granted, they’d grow to hate me.
Sure, it was just a video game, but I still wanted to see how each of them would grow and develop.
I’ve only been playing for three hours, and I’m already attached to them… I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I put them in danger.
What would be the best thing for them, in terms of their survival? I took another look at the list of miracles to see if anything could help. Their biggest problem right now was food. After that, it was making sure they had the right tools and materials to make themselves some houses.
“Wait, what’s this?”
Underneath the list of miracles was a final option: “Familiars.”
In fantasy stories, familiars were servants who helped out their magical masters by fetching objects or gathering information.
“Gathering information!”
If I got myself a familiar, maybe I could use it to scout more of the map!
I just hope I can afford one with the FP I have.
Clicking the button led me to a list of available familiars. I scanned the list. There had to be at least fifty of them!
“Dogs, cats, mice, lizards, frogs, snakes, bats, crows, pigeons…”
The list wasn’t just regular animals, either. There were a good number of fantasy creatures, like unicorns and slimes. I had about enough FP for a frog, a mouse, or a lizard, but with a tiny thing like that, what could I really do? It might get eaten by something the moment it stepped foot in the woods. If I wanted to explore the area, a bird would be best, but they were all pretty costly. I could only afford a chick right now.
“Useless…unless my people like eggs. It’ll be a while before it could lay any, anyway.”
A cat or a dog would be good, too, but I didn’t have enough FP for them. I wondered if there was any way to earn points apart from the gratitude of my villagers. As though the game read my mind, a message suddenly appeared on the screen.
“You may purchase FP with real-life currency. 1,000 yen will buy you 10 FP.”
Great. And here I was, unemployed and broke. Of course the game had microtransactions. I should’ve expected this, but I was pretty cheesed off that they put them in the alpha version of the game.
If I bought 20,000 yen worth of FP, I would be able to afford a cat or a small dog. And in general, having more points would make my villagers’ lives much easier. I grabbed my passbook from the small case next to my computer and opened it.
“Only 10,000 yen, huh? Maybe I could sell some old books or games. Or I could auction off some of my unopened prizes online…”
I sat there considering it for a long while, ignoring the little voice in my head that told me I was putting too much stock in the lives of a bunch of pixels.