Nymeria nodded. She'd heard of this before—how some people, anxious about their own power, tried to create a religion, tricking others into worshiping them. But as merely a lesser being, their strength and will were never enough to bear the weight of that belief, and in the end they would spiral into madness, their religion devolving into a cult, waiting for a cleansing to wipe them out.
Belief is a dangerous thing—unless you can reach demigod-level power through your own merit, don't touch it lightly. Of course, there are always those who think they're the exception, geniuses who can master this force, only to crash and burn in the end.
"Yeah, and because no one ever gets a good ending, there aren't many people who try it anymore," Hanni continued. "Mostly, it's the truly evil ones who still dare. For example, some Abyssal Lords love seducing kuo-toa into worshiping them, demanding sacrifices, and then, bam, getting themselves summoned into the real world."
Nymeria summoned her greatswords and quietly spoke to Demon Eilinel in the back of her mind: "Is that really how it works?"
Eilinel's answer was absolutely certain: "Of course. I've seen that play out countless times."
Nymeria nodded, then heard Hanni say, "I actually thought Hattie the nun had come up with the same plan. I mean, aren't you all followers of the Goddess of Life? I figured you wanted to steer the fishfolk to worship her, you know?"
Nymeria shook her head. "No way. Followers of the Moon Goddess or the Lady of Life act uprightly. We preach honestly and never hide our intentions."
She grinned. "Besides, this whole mess had nothing to do with Miss Hattie. The one who 'appeared' was a camouflaged monster. Even if the old priestess figured out the truth, and the rest of those clueless fishfolk really were fooled, all they'd worship is the monster—nothing to do with Miss Hattie!"
Hanni blinked, scratching her head. "Yeah, you're right. Guess I was overthinking things."
Nymeria patted her head. "You worry too much! We should find you a spellbook and get you to practice your spells—you'll need more ways to protect yourself for what's ahead, little one!"
Hanni giggled, her concerns forgotten. But none of them knew that Hattie wasn't a "lesser being" at all. At her core, just like the Great Old Ones and Outer Gods, she was a Distorted entity born from the loopholes in the material world's rules—a creature fundamentally different from the rest of them.
And that terrifying sea monster form? It was her truest self, stripped of disguise.
Now, with so many fanatical devotees unknowingly worshiping a witch, who knows what this could eventually bring...
So where was Charles, anyway?
He was behind the "Deep Father" altar, checking out the new Purification Points added to his system.
Just as Nymeria had suspected earlier, that gentle white light atop the altar was his own purification magic blanketing the entire altar—a staged miracle for the young fishfolk to witness.
After the altar's collapse, he didn't leave right away; instead, he hid for a while, intending to wait until the touching family drama between mother and daughter was finished before sneaking off.
Bored, he opened his system for a glance—and his expression hardened.
Purifying this altar had yielded an unexpected bonus.
Purified Demogorgon's altar: +18,000 points.
Seeing this message, he silently cursed.
Damn—it wasn't just some crazy fishfolk's new personal faith; this was the cover for a giant conspiracy!
He hadn't realized that the so-called "Deep Father" was actually the Demogorgon: the mightiest demon of the Infinite Layers of the Abyss, Lord of Three Realms, and singular Demon Prince.
He knew Abyssal Lords were notorious for shady schemes, always looking for a way to breach the material world and harvest souls meant for the gods. But to think he'd just stumbled into one of their conspiracies again made him grit his teeth.
Thank goodness he'd nipped it in the bud. And since the fishfolk didn't know Demogorgon's true form, and had never communicated with it directly, odds were the Demon Prince wouldn't notice his plan had been disrupted.
If that foolhardy fishfolk priestess had managed to finish her sacrificial ritual and summon those twin baboon heads—that would've doomed not just the village, but the entire little lakeside town nearby!
Demogorgon himself loved the water—he'd dive into the Darklake, lurk there for weeks, then burst forth leading an army of two-headed mutants and bizarre demons...
Just picturing that so close to his own territory made Charles' skin crawl.
Luckily, none of that happened. Instead, he'd stumbled into a fat reward of Purification Points, which would make the journeys ahead so much easier.
Still, worry nagged at him.
In a place like the Underdark, chaos and madness always spring up from nowhere. Take these kuo-toa: they'd already had a halfway decent "Sea Mother" faith, but Demogorgon still slipped right in...
He wondered how many other infamous Abyssal Lords were plotting their own entrances to the material world, seeking to harvest mortal power.
Hopefully, they'll take their sweet time showing up—or better yet, wait until he's powerful enough to take advantage of them. Game-wise, opportunities like these become outrageously valuable in the late-game.
He cleared his thoughts. Outside, the fishfolk were shouting in a language Charles didn't understand as they rushed to their other altar.
Once they'd all gathered and left his area, Charles got up, slipped out of sight, and raced toward the boat.
To his surprise, Nymeria, Hanni, and Shapiro had already returned. After a quick catch-up, he learned all the details and—just as Theresa had expected—immediately agreed to let Hanni stay, even gifting her a spellbook to help her bolster her spellcasting.
Hanni was practically in tears with gratitude, promising she knew lots of spells and would be the team's greatest support in the future.
Charles took that with a grain of salt; with the fishfolk now busy with their own beliefs, he saw no reason to linger—especially since he was nearly at his limit with the stench. He cut the anchor, let Hattie cast her magic, and had their small boat gently drift away, heading for the small town's dock.
They'd wasted enough time here—it was time to move on to more important things.
The fishfolk village's dock and the new marketplace dock weren't far apart. Even with no sailors, Hattie's magic easily powered the boat over. They arrived quickly, docking smoothly at the small town's pier.
Charles sent a message to Sophia, who replied that the map was ready. He shared their location and, before long, the memory witch and the floating beholder Lotuen came drifting over.
Charles waved to them, and as Lotuen's giant eye fixed on the tiny boat, the beholder looked surprised. "That's it? How many people can you fit on that little thing?"
"Hmm… fifteen or so," Charles glanced at the group. "Should be enough, right?"
Lotuen snorted. "Barely. What, are you planning to make all your lovely ladies row you across?"
The Underdark had almost no wind—with a few rare exceptions—making the Darklake perpetually calm. That meant all boats were rowed. If you wanted any speed, you needed a whole team of rowers.
Charles shook his head. "No need, we'll use magic to push the boat. Don't worry, we won't need any oarsmen from you."
Lotuen's eye widened. "Wow… what a waste. Let me remind you, though, it's a long trip. If you run out of magic partway through, don't blame me for not warning you about delays."
Charles smiled. "No worries, that won't happen."
The beholder floated back, reassured. "Great, so when do we leave?"
Charles looked to Sophia. "No rush. We have a few things to prepare. Give us another day or two—one day, if all goes well."
Shapiro had all the materials ready for the magic array. He needed time to probe Sulpharlo's true situation and whereabouts to gauge the enemy's condition—then, they'd set off to face their next challenge.
~~~
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